The Little Bitch III: Kiss Goodbye

Follows on directly from The Little Bitch II: The Dumb Slut

Contains ball-busting and castration and big tit themes.

Luckily, I wasn’t the only one found lying in a puddle of sick the next morning, and was bundled into a taxi headed for the hospital. I was called a taxi and told to go to go sleep it off.

I asked the driver to take me to hospital and set about concocting an explanation for my injuries.

The young doctor who examined my scrotum had trouble keeping a straight face as I describe to her, in a series of grunts and squeaks, how my right ball had become stuck up inside me, and that in an attempt to dislodge it I had accidentally stabbed myself in the other with a fork. It was humiliating, but it was the best I could do.

‘A fork?’ repeated the doctor; her eyes sparkling like she couldn’t believe her luck. She pumped her fist. ‘Yes!’

She noticed me staring in disbelief. ‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ she apologised, reaching out to touch me lightly on the thighs. ‘It’s just all the trainees made a bet to see who would get the first weird sex accident – you’re gonna win me fifty quid!’

I stared at her blankly for a while longer before I couldn’t contain my rage any longer.

‘What about my nut?’ I screamed, causing the young woman to jump. Her smile vanished immediately, and she straightened her white coat.

‘Right, well,’ she said, coolly. ‘Let’s get to it.’


As I hobbled out of the examination room the doctor told me that she expected there would be no permanent damage, though, two weeks on, I was beginning to think she had a funny definition of “damage” because my right nut remained almost double its previous size. My spuds were so hilariously mismatching that I had even taken to walking differently in an attempt to reduce the painful jostling the imbalance caused.

On top of this peculiarity, my scrotum, having been massively stretched to accommodate my bloated bollock, never really shrank back. The once thick and responsive skin remained thin and loose; barely reacting to fear or changes in temperature, meaning my nuts were left permanently, precariously swinging.


Yet, despite my lasting damage, after only two-week’s recovery, my doctor, the heartless bitch, decided I was fit to return to work.

So, wearing a pair of my baggiest jogging bottoms, I limped across the car park and entered through the reception.

I found Sian, tits as buoyant as they had ever been and showing no signs of injury, sat behind the front desk. When our eyes met hers bulged and suddenly darted away. Her cheeks burned as she turned her head and busily pretended to read an email.

I got the message and hobbled on into the office without a word.

When I got to my desk I found an unfamiliar girl in my seat.

‘Can I help you?’ I asked, setting down my bag.

‘I don’t know,’ she said, studying me uncertainly.

‘You’re in my seat.’

‘Oh, right, I’m Gillian – I’ve been filling in for you while you’ve been away.’

‘But I’m back.’

‘Ah, well they said you’ve been away so long that you’d need a hand getting back up to speed. Do you want to pull up a spare chair and I’ll go over what you’ve missed?’

I looked at her grudgingly for a long moment. She was a fresh-faced, skinny girl with little in the way of curves, and what bumps she did have were probably seriously padded. Still, she was attractive enough to brighten my morning and make settling back into work less of a chore.

I dragged over one of the cheap wooden chairs and, with my eyes surreptitiously ogling Gillian’s suspect lady-lumps, dropped myself heavily onto it. I was unprepared for the pain which this caused.

The crunch had no sooner escaped my flattened scrotum than I was cross-eyed and grimacing.

Gillian watched me for a moment as I sporadically sucked in air through clenched teeth, before asking with an amused frown, ‘Oh, my… Did you just sit on your balls?’

I said nothing, occupied entirely with my pained groaning.

‘That’s hilarious!’ she enthused. ‘She told me you’d probably still be tender down there, but that’s just hilarious.’

I stopped groaning.

‘Who told you that I’d still be tender?’ I asked.


That name made me bolt upright despite my body’s desire to curl up.

‘Whitney? She’s back?’

‘She’s been back ages. In fact…’ She intimated over my shoulder. A feeling more terrible than the one currently there went into my stomach.

A hand gripped my shoulder. ‘Hi, lover,’ she said brightly.

‘I see from your pained expression that they let you keep your nut then.’

Still looking right at me she whispered to Gillian, loud enough for me to hear, ‘The last time I saw it I kicked the fat fucker inside out.’

Gillian shuddered before sharing a giggle.

‘Gill, can you give us a moment?’

‘Sure, Whitney.’

‘Thanks, hun.’

When Gillian had gone, Whitney walked around to sit herself down in her empty chair. ‘Aren’t you going to ask how I am?’ she asked, sounding hurt. She was wearing an extremely short skirt and as she sat down she left her legs spread wide open, allowing me the awesome sight of her pussy.

‘I won’t be wearing any tight pants or underwear for a while, but, hey, you can’t say I don’t rock a skirt.’

She grinned at my drooling and finally crossed her legs.

‘But, Sian…’ I said dumbly. ‘She popped your—’

‘That dumb bitch doesn’t know the difference between popping a clit and a female ejaculation.’

My jaw dropped.

‘That’s right,’ she said leaning forward to add huskily, ‘I’m a squirter.’ She reclined proudly adding, ‘You’d have found that out for yourself if you hadn’t fucked around with that whore; I think you would have been impressed.’

I swallowed audibly.

‘But you did,’ she said with a sigh, standing out of the chair. ‘So you are going to pay.’ She leaned in threateningly to growl, ‘I’m going to make your life a living hell. In fact…’ She grinned. ‘I’ve already begun.’

She stood up and walked around me, running her fingers through my hair.

‘See you around, lover,’ she said as she walked away, leaving me both aroused and terrified.


When I finally got around to doing some work I found my first task was to clear out my backlog of unread emails. Deciding to work backwards through it, I found the first mail to be from the insipid human resources department. I was about to dismiss it as just another preposterous health and safety warning about the dangers of not blinking enough when I noticed that I was the mail’s sole recipient. With a groan I opened it.

It was a request to attend a one-on-one meeting with some woman who introduced herself as the office’s new “well-being coordinator.” What’s more, I was already five minutes late.

With a growl of resentment, I peeled myself out of my seat and hobbled downstairs.

The den of bureaucracy and bitching otherwise known as the human resources department was intentionally located as far away from where the actual work got done as possible and meant I had to pass through reception to get to it. Luckily, Sian was being kept busy by a cunning delivery man who was insisting she sign in triplicate for every package in order to allow him several more precious seconds ogling time.

Despite wanting to pass through undetected, I myself was unable to resist sneaking a look at her magnificent, jiggling rack as she scribbled her signature furiously. I simply couldn’t believe how entirely unaffected they were after taking the full weight of a small Californian girl bouncing up and down on them when, having suffered the same turmoil, my testicles were seemingly permanently altered.

Tearing myself away from the young girl’s milk-monsters, I took a deep breath and grudgingly entered the sickly-sweet-smelling lair of the administration team.

When I arrived at the meeting room, I peered inside to find the girl was already waiting. She was about my age, but seemed older in her smart skirt-suit, though see did appear nervous; clutching in her hands a rolled pamphlet. When she saw me waddle in she stood up quickly, almost toppling, ill-practiced as she appeared to be in her extremely shiny high-heels.

‘Sorry I’m late,’ I said feigning sincerity as I shuffled over to the empty chair.

‘Oh, no need to apologise,’ she said earnestly. ‘Walking can’t be easy for a man in your situation.’

Her worryingly insightful statement left me so unnerved that once again I took my seat without making the necessary adjustments. While my eyes bulged and my lips tightened to hold back the involuntary mewling sounds, she retook her seat, crossed her long, smooth legs one way before, finding it uncomfortable, crossing them the other way. She glanced at me sheepishly and then unrolled the pamphlet and began thumbing through it anxiously.

‘Now,’ she began, finally, ‘I want you to know that this is a safe place. Nothing you say here will leave this room. Do you understand?’

I nodded fervently; eager that she not notice my predicament as I surreptitiously rearranged my genitals so that I wasn’t sitting on my most tender of parts.

‘Good,’ she continued; thankfully to bashful to maintain eye contact for any length of time. ‘I also want you to know that nobody is laughing at you.’

Again, her words made me anxious. ‘Why would anyone be laughing at me?’ I asked in an embarrassingly high-pitch. As far as I was concerned no one was supposed to know what had actually put me off work.

‘Well, exactly,’ she concurred, unhelpfully. Again she uncrossed her wonderful legs and this time set both feet on the floor. ‘It’s no laughing matter, though I hope one day you’ll be able to look back on this whole ordeal and laugh.’

‘Ordeal?’ I asked weakly.

She blushed. ‘There were no pamphlets on dealing with the kind of loss you’ve suffered, but I found this one: “Overcoming the Loss of a Loved One”, and from what I’m told that’s pretty much how you men feel about your testicles.’

I looked at her sharply. ‘You think I’ve lost a testicle? Who told you that?’

‘There’s no need to be embarrassed about admitting it. Whitney told me and a few of the other girls about the whole thing and we all feel sorry for you.’ She leaned forward to stress once more, ‘No one is laughing at you.’

‘Little bitch!’ I cried, cursing Whitney.

‘Hey! There’s no need to take it out on me!’ snapped the pseudo-counsellor indignantly. ‘Although anger is part of the grieving process as I recall...’ She began to flick through her pamphlet for confirmation.

‘I am not grieving!’ I cried.

‘Well, good for you,’ she patronised. ‘I’m sure that little thing was just a nuisance anyway. Good riddance to it – and you’ve always got the other one... right?’

I have not lost a testicle!’ I bellowed, standing, and before I knew it I had dropped my jogging bottoms and was stood before her baring my damaged goods for inspection.

My falling trousers had hardly reached my knees when the horrified young blonde sprang from her seat to launch a kick at my still descending nuts. Her smooth, bare shin met the wrinkly underside of my scrotum to send my heavy orbs, on their lengthy cords, swinging up to punch me in the stomach. While this did at least spare them a crushing when her shin followed up to strike my crotch solidly, she had already inflicted enough damage necessary to achieve the effect desired.

‘I thought this was a safe place?’ I squealed as I crumbled instantly to my knees.

‘Fuck you!’ she yelled as I fell away. ‘I didn’t ask you to flash your disgusting bollock at me, you one-nutted freak.’ She pulled back her foot a second time and before I could catch my flopping gonads she smashed them again and sent me onto my back. Meeting violently adjourned, she stormed out and slammed the door shut behind her.

In the silence, my prick let off a sorry spurt of spunk and I promptly passed out.


When I came to I realised with horror that I had been stripped of my trousers. Pulling myself immediately upright I found Whitney sat in the counsellor’s chair, legs akimbo, faking an obnoxiously intense orgasm whilst her fingers spread her tight, pink lips and flicked fiercely at her prominent bean. Behind her, Gillian watched my panicked reaction with much amusement.

‘Oh, you’re awake,’ observed Whitney, breathlessly, as she wound down her over-acted climax. ‘Did you have a nice sleep, lover? Gillian and I had lots of fun while you were out, didn’t we Gill?’

‘We certainly did,’ confirmed the giggling brunette, and held out my stolen jogging bottoms mockingly. ‘Those are some big, pink balls you have there. The cock isn’t up to much, but all my girlfriends will appreciate the photos I sent them nevertheless.’

I groaned hopelessly. ‘What do you want?’

‘I told you, hun,’ said Whitney, standing suddenly from her seat, ‘to make your life a living hell.’ She leaned forward, placing her hands on her knees in a way which pressed her little tits together in a tantalizing cleavage and asked devilishly, ‘How am I doing?’

The scowl I shot her had her cute, button nose scrunching up as she let out a mean chuckle right in my face. I was moved to grab her by the pretty little neck, but her feet were far too close to my sagging bollocks to risk it.

Drawing away from me, she beckoned Gillian after her and made her way to the exit as I watched her leave from my vantage on the floor; her perfect, tight little ass wiggling as she went.

‘I’ll leave these in reception for you,’ said Gillian, shaking my trousers.

‘Bitch!’ I cursed when I was sure they were out of earshot. I gave the meeting room a cursory once over, though I knew full well that Whitney would not have been negligent enough to leave me anything to cover my dangling shame. With my only choice to make my way to reception and shamefacedly retrieve my trousers, I tested my legs to find them unable to support my weight just yet. So, pathetically, I crawled across the room with my excruciatingly tender parts bouncing side to side between my thighs like a soft, fleshy pendulum.

Cautiously, I drew open the door which had been left purposely ajar and scanned the human resources department. It was a minefield of merciless women just waiting for an opportunity to tear apart a defenceless young male. I gulped.

There was an empty desk a short crawl from where I knelt. On the back of its chair was a cardigan which would come in useful if caught on my humiliating trip back to reception. And then, once at reception, there would come the awkward conversation with Sian. She would no doubt be curious to know how Whitney came to be in possession of my trousers. The thought of her big, hurt eyes (and tits) spurred me on.

Making sure the coast was clear, I scurried across the walkway into the cluster of partitioned cubicles and made a beeline for the cardigan. As I was reaching up for the garment I heard footsteps coming around the corner and hurriedly I threw myself under the desk and pressed my back right up against the cubicle wall.

‘Where’ve you been?’ asked the woman in at the cubicle opposite as the girl whose legs I recognised as belonging to my so-called well-being coordinator approached and took her seat right in front of me.

‘I needed some air after my meeting with that one-nut prick I was telling you about,’ she said, pulling her seat in until her pointy-toed shoes jabbed into either of my balls and then rolled over the top of them, mashing them into the floor. I put my fist in my mouth and bit it hard to stifle my squeaks of anguish.

‘One nut?’ said her colleague, snorting. ‘From what Whitney was telling me he’s got to be a eunuch. Did she tell you about the fork?’

‘Well, put it this way,’ said my counsellor in a way which I could tell meant she was smiling, ‘judging from the way he crumbled when I kicked him in the sack he definitely has at least one left in there.’ While her friend let out a shriek of delighted laughter, her hands began to rub her upper thighs and her feet began roll on their heel causing me intense discomfort.

‘You tried to pop his only nut?’ said her friend, cackling. ‘Some well-being supervisor or whatever it is you are. Talk about kicking a guy when he’s down.’

‘Fuck him,’ she said unconcerned. ‘Anyway, are we off for an early lunch?’ She pushed herself backward off my bollocks and ground them flat into the rough carpet until they slipped out from under the soles of her feet.

‘Done enough good work for one day, have you?’ asked the other woman, still chucking.

‘God, I wish that was my job,’ said my counsellor, herself now chuckling as she reached down under the desk. ‘Anyway, come with me to lunch and I’ll tell you all about it over some meat and one veg!’

Her was hand going straight for my balls as if it instinctively knew they were there. I shuffled back desperately and that's when I realised something beneath me.

Quickly, I hoisted my balls out of the way to reveal a handbag and, to my great relief (as well as hers no doubt) her hand found the bag it had intended to.

I let out a sigh and slumped back down; inadvertently releasing my balls so that they rolled at speed across the floor between my thighs until reaching the far end of my extensive scrotum.

‘Actually,’ said my counsellor, pensively. ‘I only really need my purse.’ With that she tossed the brimming handbag back under her desk. Her aim was uncanny. The hefty bag flattened my balls with a splat! and the surprise pain caused me to jump and smack my head on the underside of her desk.

‘What the fuck was that?’ she asked, bending to look beneath.

‘Sally!’ called a voice with enough urgency to make her turn.

‘Oh, hi, Sian,’ she said standing back up. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘Oh, um, this is embarrassing – I’ve completely forgotten... Oh, are you off for lunch? I’ll let you get on your way.’

‘O-kay,’ said Sally uncertainly. ‘Well, if you remember what it was let me know.’

‘Will do.’

Sally’s beautiful, but deadly legs walked away only to be replaced by Sian’s. Without warning the busty brunette dropped into the seat left empty and chucked my jogging bottoms under the desk.

‘Put them on and don’t say a word,’ she hissed. I couldn’t see her face to tell how serious she was, just her white tennis shoes, her legs in their skin-tight grey leggings and the tempting camel-toe nestled between.

‘But––’ I ventured.

‘Not a word!’ she snapped, spinning on the chair so that her feet were between my legs. ‘Or I start kicking ’til I find the one of them that’s real.’

I glanced down at my two genuine balls, bewildered, then remembered how, when one nut had shot up inside me apparently ruptured under her foot, I had done nothing to convince the guilt-ridden teenage otherwise. In fact, I had used the terrible loss as a means to get a second blowjob out of her. As far as poor, gullible Sian knew, she had robbed me of one of my precious nuggets of manhood.

Feeling remorseful, I tried to set the record straight. ‘Actually, Sian—’ I began.

Her foot lashed out and struck me square in the left nut – the very one she was convinced she had popped. The squeal and bump of my skull against the desk, followed by the subsequent silence as I cradled my struck nut seemed to appease her and she set her foot back down on the floor and continued, ‘Good. Now listen to me very carefully. This is the last favour I ever do for you, you hear? Me and Whitney have come to an understanding – if I have nothing to do with you then she’ll have nothing to do with me.’ She paused for a moment and I heard her sob.

‘I can’t go through that again,’ she said, sniffing. She leaned forward to hug her huge melons protectively and inadvertently lowered them into my lustful gaze. ‘My boobs were black and blue for a week after and every time I think about what she did to me I... I – Oh shit!’

She lifted her hands from her jugs to reveal two freshly formed wet spots before quickly recovering them with embarrassment. She stood up abruptly and, as she hurried away, she called back, sobbing, ‘I’m sorry, but you’re on your own,’ and with that she left me staring longingly after her; my aching nut in one hand and my trousers in the other.


After awkwardly redressing and climbing sheepishly out from under Sally’s desk, I staggered out of the nightmarish human resources department into reception. Whitney was waiting for me there; her tomboyish assistant in my humiliation, Gillian, in tow. Both girls had their arms folded tightly across their small portions of tit-meat forcing it into bright white globes which rose above the plunging neckline of their low-cut, and matching in all but colour, tops.

To my left Sian sat with her head in her hands, sobbing softly.

‘You let me down, Sian,’ Whitney told the weeping girl, reproachfully.

‘Leave her alone,’ I growled protectively.

‘Stay out of this Nutless,’ said Whitney, as though she had grown weary of talking to me, ‘this is between me and this fake-titted dumb slut.’

‘Oh, hey,’ piped up Gillian, ‘when you had your boobs done did you mean to ask for novelty implants?’ She and Whitney shared a cruel cackle as Sian burst into tears proper and the twin circles over either nipple first darkened, then doubled in size.

When the mean girls had done laughing, Whitney’s stare became cold once more as she looked at me, but continued to address Sian. ‘If you help this pathetic little eunuch once more,’ she growled, ‘I’ll rip you fucking tits off and use them for Space Hoppers. Got it, slut?’ Sian nodded into her tear-soaked palms.

My heart ached for the poor girl and I desperately want to spring to her rescue, but I wasn’t about to take on two fighting-fit girls in my debilitated state. Especially when they had no doubt already decided on which of my testicles they would each get to pop.

Noticing the fire in my eyes, Whitney remarked, ‘You look like you have something to say, lover. Do you?’

I dropped my gaze to the floor and felt an overcome by the shame. Sullenly, I shuffled around the front of the reception desk and toward the cafeteria leaving Sian bawling into her hands. As I passed Gillian she made to slap me in the nuts and though she pulled it at the last minute I still found myself lurching forward as if struck. As I staggered on like a cripple, their laughter chased me into the food hall.


I was still a little early for lunch, but it was the warmth I felt from the cafeteria’s staff which had encouraged me to head there. Well, I say the staff treated me with warmth, one of them, Laura, did, the other Anna was a stroppy cow most the time, but she was the same with everyone so I never took it personally.

Laura was a bright and bubbly with mousey brown hair, while Anna was slim and aloof and only smiled out of professional courtesy, though it did little to hide the contempt she felt for her customers. Both girls looking stunning in their tight black T-shirts and khaki shorts, though Laura’s ill-fitting bra meant she offered much more in the way of jiggling.

As I hobbled towards the counter I forced myself to straighten best I could. My approach was met with a gasp from the girls and much excited whispering. Unsettled, I was about to turn away, but Laura's face lit up suddenly and her earnest smile and overflowing breasts invited me in.

‘We heard you were back,’ she chirped, her eyes twinkling, ‘so we made you the usual.’

My “usual” was a jacket potato and baked beans, but Anna returned from the oven with two potatoes on a single plate and set them down on the counter. They allowed me a moment to stare at the steaming pair with incomprehension before Anna declared, ‘But you don’t have the “usual” anymore do you?’

With a grin, Laura dropped one of the potatoes stomped on it. My jaw fell open at the action, but before I could vocalise my dismay she looked at the remaining potato and noted, ‘There’s something missing from the one left, isn’t there?’

‘So I hear,’ said Anna, and then unexpectedly raised above her head a fork she had cunningly concealed. The sight of the twinkling steel chilled me to the balls and when she promptly plunged its deadly prongs into the helpless spud I almost fainted as the violence of the stabbing and the graphic sound as the fork split the potato’s thick skin brought back the horror of that night.

With my legs giving out from under me, I stumbled backward and dropped into a chair, trapping myself beneath my thighs, painfully, but fortunately only briefly this time.

‘Oh god!’ cried Laura, rushing immediately out from behind the counter; her substantial breasts so poorly contained by her inadequate bra that the upper portion of each fleshy globe bounced so freely that it would have easily spilled from the cups if it weren’t for her T-shirt. Anna looked on with amused disbelief as her friend came to my side.

‘It’s been over two weeks – we thought you’d have gotten over losing your nut by now,’ said Laura, her remorse genuine and the level of her female incomprehension of testicle loss apparent. She noticed the way I was clutching myself and asked, ‘Is it okay... your ball?’

‘Balls,’ I corrected her in a strained whisper.

Anna seemed to be immediately animated by her colleague’s speculation. ‘It’s got to be his ball,’ she asserted, also rounding the counter. ‘We’d better take a look at it.’ She knelt down in front of me, grabbed my jogging bottoms at either the side of the waistband and yanked them down. I only narrowly escaped humiliation by grabbing the middle of my waistband and resisting her pull.

‘Come on!’ she said through gritted teeth. ‘Don’t be shy – it’s only a little ball.’

‘Balls!’ I corrected her furiously as I began to lose the tug of war and the hilt of my cock came into view. I glance upward to find Laura entranced by the struggle for my pride.

‘Why are you being such a dick?’ demanded Anna, pulling now with almost her entire weight behind her. ‘It’s only like me getting a boob out.’

‘Two boobs!’ I corrected her tersely.

‘Whatever!’ she responded just as frustrated. Then her eyes lit up. ‘Is that what it’s going to take?’ she asked. ‘If Laura got her boobs out for you would you show us your ball?’

‘Anna!’ objected Laura unconvincingly.

‘Oh, you so would!’ Anna chided.

As Anna’s pull lessened, I looked up at Laura; over the impressive swell of tit-flesh she had scooped together in her folded arms and to her face, the mouth of which twitched slightly as she looked to the ceiling in contemplation. Slowly, a smirk began to draw her lips wider.

‘I suppose... if that’s what it’s going to take,’ she said, smiling at me seductively.

At that moment one of my colleagues from upstairs, chancing his luck, poked his head around the door about to enquire whether he could get lunch yet. No such luck. ‘Fuck off, you’re early!’ yelled Anna, immediately sending him scurry back to his desk.

She looked back at me and asked politely, ‘May I?’ before nodding down at my hand which still clung to my joggers. Hesitantly, I relinquished my grasp and let her have her wish.

After a deep breath, she slowly drew my trousers down around my knees, exposing inch by inch my shame.

‘Shit,’ said Anna, her dilated pupils rocking side to side in time with the sway of my balls. ‘He does still have two.’

‘Wow,’ said Laura, her hungry eyes running the length of my snaking cock. ‘Sian said it was a mouthful.’ She reached down to within an inch of touching it and then looked to me for permission. I nodded. Stroking my length covetously she looked at Anna and asked, ‘How long until we start serving lunch?’

‘Five minutes or so,’ Anna told her.

‘Can you manage without me for ten?’ she asked hopefully.

Anna tore her eyes from my balls and looked up at her friend for a moment then at me, narrowing her gaze. ‘Sure,’ she said grudgingly, ‘but only if I can check for prosthetics.’

‘What?’ I asked, balking at the insinuation.

‘Prosthetic bollocks,’ she said matter-of-factly. ‘They can be quite convincing nowadays and I want to be sure – just a few gentle squeezes and Laura will drag you off to the women’s toilets and perform her end of the bargain... and no doubt quite a bit more.’

‘Anna!’ cried Laura, again unconvincing in her outrage.

I really didn’t know if I could take even a single squeeze, no matter how gentle she assured me she would be. But I couldn’t miss an opportunity to receive favours from Laura so I let out a miserable groan and agreed to her terms. She grinned in a way I’ve only ever seen a few women do, and each moments before causing my testicles grievous harm. I gritted my teeth as she took hold of my balls, one in each hand, and braced myself for her inspection.

At first she was surprisingly gentle; rolling my orbs this way and that between her fingers with interest, but, unsurprisingly, it wasn’t long before her darker intentions became apparent and her probing grew quite malicious. I bucked and squirmed in my seat, gripping its sides, white-knuckled, whilst she pinched and prodded at my poor, purpling plums.

After just over two minutes of torture, she stopped and bounced them in her palms. ‘Well, they feel real,’ she said, ‘but I suppose there’s only one way to really be sure.’ Reading her devious mind, I knew immediately what test she referred to, but before I could plead or protest she clenched her fist around my left nut and bore down on the rubbery nugget until I sang soprano and freshly squeezed semen leaked from my Jap’s eye.

‘Oh, yeah!’ she growled with satisfaction at my reaction. ‘This one’s definitely the genuine article.’

I let out an aggrieved groan and slumped back into my seat; knowing she had yet to perform the same test on my right nut, but being too debilitated to prepare myself for it.

I shrieked girlishly as the cruel fingers of her left her deep into the gristly shell of their next victim, warping it and crushing the nerve-packed mush it was intended to protect.

‘Oh! Not too hard!’ beseeched Laura as I screamed. Through my tears I saw Anna look up at Laura with a devilish grin and I gave up any hope of keeping the compressed orb, but fortunately, she must have really cared for her friend as she did eventually relinquish my bollock leaving it in some sort of working order. Once more I flopped lifeless into my seat and let out a sob of relief.

No sooner had Anna stepped away than Laura’s face filled my tunnel vision. ‘Come on,’ she urged me zealously, ‘we’ve only got ten minutes.’


Without much cooperation from my paralysed legs, not that they would have been much use anyway with my trousers still caught around my ankles, Laura dragged me across the cafeteria and into the women’s toilets directly off it.

I was tossed hastily onto a toilet seat; my nuts swinging after me to bounce painfully off the porcelain. While I grimaced she pulled shut the cubicle door behind her and immediately dropped to her knees in front of me. This obviously caught my attention and as I stared down at her curiously she said the two sexist words a woman can say to a man: ‘Use me.’ After the pain and humiliations I had suffered that day, I was not in the mood to be considerate or gentle anyway, so taking her roughly by the hair, I impaled her face on the erection which had risen the instant she had uttered those two little words, and set her to work swallowing as much of it as any girl could reasonably be expected without being a practiced sword-swallower. She made a few grunts, but seemed more surprised by my enthusiasm than perturbed, and she quickly established a pleasing rhythm.

At about the same time she decided to really let go for it, I heard over her frenzied slurps the door to the toilets creak open. ‘Hello?’ said Sian warily. ‘Laura?’ I felt Laura attempt to lift her head to answer, but held it down firmly.

Sian’s hesitant footsteps closed in on our cubicle until her tennis shoes appeared under the door. She must have put her ear to the door because, after a sudden intake of breath, she cried, ‘Laura, what are you doing to him?’

Laura knocked aside the hand with which I held the back of her head and came up gasping for air. After a few much needed breaths she replied tersely, ‘You know what I’m doing Sian – you had your chance now it’s my turn!’ With my tingle dwindling and my wet dick getting cold, I set her back to work, thinking as I did how right she was. Sian had had her chance, in fact, she had had two chances and both times she had chosen to abandon me as I lay there, presumably castrated.

‘You’re making a mistake,’ Sian warned her in an uncharacteristic growl. ‘A big mistake!’

Suddenly quite furious at her, I decided to show her I didn’t need her anymore. Embracing the next wave of pleasure to grip me, I took hold of Laura’s head with both hands and let rip with an explosive ejaculation which had been building up for two whole weeks. Laura’s cheeks bulged with the sudden deluge which filled her mouth, but despite gulping down what must have amounted to a couple shot glasses full of warm, salty semen she continued to work my shaft like a pro while I violently fucked her face and groaned with obnoxious abandon.

As I was firing the final few strings of spunk at the back of Laura’s throat I heard a squeak of rubber and opened my eyes to see Sian had spun on her heels.

‘You’ll both regret this!’ she yelled, sobbing, and with that she raced out of the toilets in tears.

‘Fucking slut,’ I growled idly after her. Laura must have thought I was paying her a compliment because she extricated herself from my stiff pole, noisily slurping every wayward dribble of cum as she went, to look up at me, pink-cheeked and beaming with great pride.

Still inexplicably angry, I looked down at her and growled, ‘Get those tits up here and put them to work.’ So gleefully that I thought she might start jumping up and down on the spot clapping her hands, she rushed to straddle me, shedding her top as she did so. Her tits were surprisingly big outside the confines of their bra and she was eager to show off their malleability by squashing them into and around my face. Impressed by the comprehensiveness of her smothering, I tugged down her shorts and, without any warning, forced her onto my still willing cock.

Between the saliva coating my shaft and the juices which literally dripped from her cunt, she slid down my entire length without stopping and I could tell from her sharp intake of breath that I had filled her to the top. I wrapped my hands around her juicy melons, leaving her swollen nipples to bulge out from my grasp, and bore down on them cruelly; getting a depraved thrill out of her moans of anguish.

‘Harder,’ she urged me, and began to slam her ass into my lap with abandon. Her doughy jugs turned to turgid lumps of flesh under the crushing pressure, but try as I might I couldn’t extract a single droplet from them. As if sensing my frustration, Laura wrapped her own hands over mine and helped squeeze them to the point of bursting. To my delight and her apparent surprise, her tumescent teats gave off a fine squirt of milky liquid which wet my cheeks.

‘Oh my god!’ she cried, through the pain. ‘I didn’t know they could do that!’

I let my head loll backwards and felt, deep inside me, my prostate release its salty load for a second time. At that moment, the door to the cubicle was wrenched open unexpectedly and hands fell upon Laura whose surprise caused her pussy to clamp down on my dick like a vice.

Then, completely out of the blue, she was hauled kicking and screaming off my lap by persons unknown. Already in the process of cumming, the extra stimulation of her surprise-tightened cunt sliding the length of my cock only increased violence with which I blew my load. As my fat, purple head slipped free of her tensed fuck-hole it let loose a torrent of spunk which was flicked in a perfectly straight line from clit to chin as my prick sprung powerfully backwards.

I watched helplessly as she was dragged out of the cubicle and around the corner; still too occupied with the mind-blowing orgasm which had me thrusting moronically at thin air as I continued to spray my load all over myself.

I hadn’t seen who had kidnapped her, but it came as no surprise when Gillian stepped into the cubicle. She looked anything but impressed at the sight of me at full mast, bucking like a blue-balled stallion. Casually pointing my spurting cock off to one side to avoid an eyeful of jizz, she reached down with the other hand and took hold of my scrotum which hung loose over the front of the toilet seat. She lifted it and dangled my heavy balls for a teasing moment over the toilet bowl.

‘Time to cool off, stud,’ she quipped, before letting them drop into the freezing waters below with a mighty splosh!

While the sudden chill was trauma enough, Gillian wasn’t finished. She leaned over me, treating me to, or possibly further mocking me with, a great view down her top, before giving the toilet a powerful flush which wrenched forcefully at my bollocks and had me kicking my legs high up in the air and shrieking hysterically as I reached after them in an attempt to haul them back around the U-bend.

‘Gill!’ came Whitney’s urgent bark. ‘This bitch’s shorts aren’t going to pull themselves off!’

Smirking, Gillian walked backwards out of the cubicle in order to witness as much of my struggle against the raging waters as possible, then vanished to join her partner in crime.

Only when the flush had diminished enough for me to wrestle my gonads from the bowl was I able to stand. With them dripping profusely and hanging almost at my knees I hobbled out of the cubicle just in time to see Laura, stripped down to her trainers, be ejected from the toilets into the cafeteria with Whitney and Gillian then holding the door shut against her desperate attempts to regain entry.

‘Did you see her?’ asked Whitney.

‘Who – Giselle?’ said Gillian. ‘Yeah.’

I gasped in horror. Giselle was the office manager; a good-looking blonde, probably about forty, but easily able to pass for thirty, whose frame was so petite and slim that it was hard for me to imagine her taking a dick without copious amounts of lube. Not that the uptight bitch seemed the type to allow herself to be violated in such an undignified manner.

The reason Whitney was so keen that she be in the cafeteria at that moment in time was because, while a single of her glares being could send a man’s testicles scurrying into their hidey-holes, it was well-known that she saved her true contempt for younger, more attractive women.

Oh god, I thought. Laura!

There was a high window which ran the length of the separating wall so I staggered over to one of the sinks and carefully climbed up on to it to gain a view of the events as they unfolded. I saw a cafeteria full of gobsmacked men sat at the tables with one woman, Giselle, up from her seat and glaring at the spunk-streaked, rosy-breasted naked girl who was pounding on the door tearfully.

‘Laura!’ she barked, causing the poor girl to whirl around with horror.

‘Giselle!’ she sobbed, quickly covering her obscenely swollen tits and cunt. ‘I can explain.’

‘Get her out of here!’ roared Giselle, boiling with more rage than her incredibly slight body could contain. The men of the office looked at one another, hardly able to comprehend the management-sanction groping opportunity, and within seconds Laura was engulfed by a raucous mob of horny males, all desperate for a handful of her naked flesh. Pulled this way and that, and with her already tortured breasts being tugged in the opposite directions, she was eventually escorted out of the cafeteria.

‘I want that slut out of the office!’ bellowed Giselle over the young girls screams, as she followed them out with arms folded. ‘And make sure she doesn’t get back in.’

The thought of Laura locked out of the building stark naked, which at any other time would have had my dick stiffening, filled my heart with dread. I knew I had to do something to help her, but as I turned away from the window I found the one thing that prevented me standing beneath me, looking up with a mean grin.

‘Thought I’d let you fuck around behind my back did you?’ demanded Whitney, before roughly snatching hold of my sac just above the balls. ‘Think again!’ With an almighty downward tug she turned out the lights.


When I came round some time later, I was in a crumpled heap on the floor beneath the sink. Once more my jogging bottoms had been stolen and I was left in just my shirt and shoes.

I dragged myself over to the exit and cautiously peered out. The canteen was empty and silent. On the assumption that my trousers would once more have been left with Sian I scurried across the room to the double doors which led on directly to the reception.

‘You!’ cried a cold, hard voice causing me to spin around in surprise. It was Anna and she was furious. ‘You cost Laura her job... and her pride!’ she sobbed whilst taking hold of the large, twin-pronged fork she used to handle hot potatoes. ‘But it’s going to cost you so much more!’

I hurled myself through the doors and into reception, acutely aware that my weak legs were not yet prepared for a pursuit. Seeing Sian was not at her desk I dived underneath and curled up; praying Anna would assume I had some sort of super-human power of recovery and had taken the stairs to the left.

As the raven-haired bitch burst through the double doors Sian emerged from the admin office directly off the reception. She was flicking through freshly printed papers and didn’t notice my pathetic, cowering form beneath her desk.

‘Where’d he go?’ Anna demanded of the surprised brunette.

‘Who?’ asked Sian, taken aback by the young woman’s urgency.

‘Don’t act dumb!’ Anna snarled.

It’s not an act, I thought and, as if by way of punishment, Sian looked down and noticed me cowering beneath her desk. I clasped my hands together, white-knuckled, and pleaded for her to not give me away.

‘Oh, him,’ she said as her expression grew dark. Then after a tense few seconds’ contemplation, she shook her head and looked back at Anna. ‘I haven’t seen that prick, but trust me – if I had we’d be having this conversation in the puddle of mush that used to be his bollock.’

‘Bollocks,’ corrected Anna, though Sian took it as a curse of frustration. ‘He must have gone upstairs,’ she deduced, and quickly made her way toward the staircase. ‘Listen, if you do find him, come get me and we can share his balls between us – one each.’

‘Fine,’ Sian called after her. ‘But you get the fake one.’

Oh shit! I thought. I peered through a crack in the desk, hoping that Anna would just keep ascending the stairs, but since when did I ever get any luck? She turned with a grin and said, ‘Fake one?’ She scoffed. ‘Oh, they’re both the genuine article, trust me – I’ve checked.’ With that she skipped up the stairs leaving Sian, breathing extremely slow and heavily.

She glared down at the twin bulges which filled my plentiful scrotum quite convincingly. I looked up at her and smiled hopefully, but the intense look of ire in her dark eyes told me that rather than escape a psychotic bitch out for my balls, I’d simply swapped for one with practice.

‘Sian,’ I started pitifully.

‘You told me I’d popped one,’ she growled, her shoulders arching.

‘What was I supposed to say?’ I cried. ‘Keep going – you’ve not quite crushed it?’

Ignoring my undeniable logic, she asked, ‘Do you know how bad I felt about that? You tricked me into feeling sorry for you – you were going to make me give you a blow job!

‘You remembered,’ I said, swallowing audibly.

‘Get up!’ she snapped, taking me by the hair and dragging me into the small admin room to the rear of the reception. She tossed me against the photocopier and leaned over me menacingly to growl, ‘This ends here.’

‘No, please, Sian!’ I begged her, crumbling to the floor; my weak legs sliding apart to let my swollen genitals unfurl onto the carpet completely exposed and defenceless as not even my hands could be persuaded to protect them. I looked up at her as the sheer enormity of her swollen breasts loomed over me; no doubt back-breaking in weight, yet somehow heaved up and down as she sucked in angry breaths, while her engorged, bullet nipples strained through her smart, but over-burdened blouse and looked set to poke my eyes out.

I was terrified and yet hyper-aware of the sensation of my cock slithering across the rough carpet as it stiffened. I was a pitiful slave to my bollocks and I knew it. Sighing with resignation I told her, ‘Fine. Get it over with. I’d rather it be you than Whitney after years of torture.’

She lifted her foot and then looked down at me thoughtfully for a moment.

‘Before I do...’ she said. ‘How did you make it look like I’d popped your nut? I mean, it definitely wasn’t there – I checked twice.’

I shrugged and said simply, ‘It went up inside me.’

She stared at me horrified. ‘They can do that?’ she asked. It took her a while to comprehend, but finally she asked with exasperation, ‘Then why don’t you keep them there all the time?’

I opened my mouth to respond with a withering retort, but, when I actually thought about it, she had a good point to which I could not argue.

‘Well,’ she said suddenly; her eyes lighting up, ‘that’s all we need to do, surely.’

‘Wait... what?’ I asked with unease as she dropped to her knees between my wide open legs and grabbed one of my duck egg-sized nuts in each hand.

‘We stick them back up there and convince Whitney that I popped them in a fit of jealous rage. That way Whitney will have no reason to stalk you and I won’t have to constantly put my boobs on the line for you and your stupid fat plums!’

‘Oh god!’ I cried. ‘You can’t be serious Sian. They’re too big! They’ll never fit.’

‘I seem to remember the one I knocked up last time was pretty big too – if not bigger.’

‘No,’ I said in a panicked gasp, as she rolled each nut around my crotch until she found the depressions from which they had descended long ago. ‘It’s not as easy as just pushing them in.’

Looking me straight in the eyes, she said with a devilish smirk, ‘Oh, I didn’t think it would be.’ And with that she began to press her thumbs into my tender testicle meat.

‘Oh god!’ I shrieked like a startled girl as my legs began to flop wildly around on the carpet. ‘Stop, Sian. Stop! You’re going to pop them!

‘That way works for me too,’ she said, grinning.

Between her flexing upper arms Sian’s hefty melons were squashed flat and distorted into long, narrow masses of bulging flesh which billowed out of her low-cut blouse like rising dough. Sian saw how captivated I was with her breasts despite my discomfort.

‘You really love these things,’ she observed with a mixture of pity and bafflement in her voice. Deciding to give me a closer look, she leaned in closer and thrust forward her jugs so that that they were pressed right in my face. With a bitter sigh, she added, ‘God knows why you fancy that flat-chested little bitch as well.’

What Sian didn’t realise (though it was doubtful she would have cared anyway) was that in treating me to a faceful of bliss she had inadvertently shifted the entirety of her incredible tit-weight directly over her arms thereby doubling the force with which she drove my nuts into their snug little hidey-holes. As her thumbs plunged deep into the creaking shells of my poor, abused nuts my screams were smothered by her enveloping cleavage.

No man in such a state of testicular agony could hope to maintain lucidity of thought: reason goes out of the window and yet lust, it seemed, did not, as, with her gigantic tits in my face, my penis got a new rush of blood and rose like a cobra, drawing itself sluggishly up Sian’s inner thighs as she knelt before me. There was no way she was ignorant to the sensation through her skin-tight leggings, but she chose not to comment and simply pressed on until, sensing that she lacked the upper body strength to make internal my gonads, she deftly hopped to her feet whilst keeping my balls pinned in their nooks. Then, without word or remorse, she planted one heel after the other on top of the bulging bubbles of tender meat and pushed herself upright; steadying herself on the photocopier behind me as my terrified bollocks squirmed desperately underfoot.

Free once more to protest vocally now that I wasn’t being suffocated by her melons, I shrieked with what little air I had left in my lungs, ‘Sian, you’re killing me!

Sian let out a snort. ‘You’re such a baby,’ she scoffed, before beginning to bounce up and down on her heels in an effort to work my fat nuts deeper. Every single time she lifted off my testicles I let out a moronic sob of relief as if it were the end of the ordeal, despite the fact that every time, not a second later, her heels would set back down on precious, spunk-filled orbs bringing with them her entire jiggling weight.

I could almost hear the squeaking as my rubbery nuggets were forced deeper into the recesses which neither of us were certain could contain them.

Then, all at once, there came a sound much like that of something big being sucked up the hose of a vacuum cleaner; a sort of f-wump! and, unbalanced by the sudden shift in her footing, Sian was sent toppling backwards with a surprised shriek.

I didn’t see her hit the floor, I blacked out within moments of my balls going internal, but when, a few minutes later I assume, she roused me from my lovely, warm, painless coma, I could see that her fall had somehow popped the top few buttons of her blouse and it was now clear that she was braless beneath. I was busy picturing the sight as the wonderful tsunami of tit-flesh rolled up her chest and burst the confines of her blouse, when the pain which had caused me to pass out moments earlier reasserted its presence all of a suddenly by seizing my brain, guts and balls in a horrific vice-like grip.

My balls!’ I cried effeminately and quickly clutched at my scrotum in search for the chunks of nut-butter I was certain I would find sloshing about it.

‘Don’t panic,’ said Sian as she knelt down between my twitching legs to poke impassively at my empty scrotum. ‘They went in. Now you need to look like you just lost your bollocks because Whitney will be on her way.’

‘You called her already?’ I squeaked in terror.

‘I didn’t have to. A woman’s hearing isn’t attuned to higher pitches just for babies you know – every woman in the building will have heard and recognised that pathetic squeal you gave before you passed out.’ She gave me a wink and added, ‘And they’ll be on their way.’

‘But Sian—’ I began, but before I could finish my protest, she stuffed what tasted like her knickers in my mouth.

‘Much better,’ she said. Then she unbuttoned my shirt and, leaving my arms caught in the sleeves, tied it in a rough knot behind my back.

I screamed into my sweet-tasting gag causing her to grin. ‘Keep it up – this needs to look convincing.’

At that moment Whitney burst through the door with Gillian in tow and Anna close behind her. The blonde wellbeing coordinator appeared a moment later with her friend whose voice I had only ever heard previously. In the flesh she just as I had expected: mid-twenties and attractive if a tad plain. She even wore the exact mocking grin I had imagined she would.

The four women stared down at me sat there with legs spread, cock out and scrotum, all ten inches of pink, wrinkled skin, sprawled out on the carpet in preparation for their perusal.

It was Whitney who first noticed the absence of its precious, plump cargo. ‘No,’ she said in a horrified gasp. ‘You didn’t. You wouldn’t!’ She threw herself to her knees before me and snatched hold of my empty bean-bag. Than after a few moments of frantic searching she sobbed. ‘You popped them. You popped them both!’

‘Both?’ squeaked Gillian with a childish whimper of dismay. ‘One of them was supposed to be mine!’

‘They’re gone,’ said Whitney, her voice a disconsolate whisper. ‘You took them, you dumb slut.’

‘Yes,’ said Sian, firmly. ‘I did. It’s over Whitney – he’s ruined and I was the one that ruined him.’ She gave me a nudge with her foot to remind me to act distraught as I had frozen up the moment Whitney had entered the room and proceeded to grab me by the sac.

‘My balls,’ I moaned unintelligibly into my gag. ‘My balls.’

The shell-shocked Californian continued to poke at my leathery pouch for a while longer in silence while Gillian complained quietly to herself.

‘Well, at least someone popped them,’ said Anna, pragmatic, but still desperately disappointed. ‘It would have been nice if you had have stuck to our deal,’ she sniped at Sian, ‘but whatever, I guess.’

The well-being counsellor and her friend remained silent; too busy giddily snapping photos on their phones.

The door, which none of the girls had taken the care to close behind them, but which had swung shut of its own accord, opened once more and the women turned around with a start. Into the crowded room marched Giselle, the office manager; her face sour and her thin arms folded across the angry points of her small breasts.

The girls drew in a gasp as one and I let out a sob as my humiliation reached new heights.

‘Well, well,’ she said glaring at each girl in turn before looking down at me. ‘I thought I heard giggling. Can someone please explain to me what is going on here?’

I looked to Sian who was biting her plump bottom lip as she considered her next move. She glanced down at me and then at her torn blouse. Reading her mind, I shook my head in desperation, but there was no stopping her.

‘He tried to rape me,’ she told Giselle, without conviction. She had genuine tears in her eyes when she looked back at me apologetically.

‘He did what?’ roared the platinum blonde volcano.

‘Rape,’ repeated Anna helpfully. ‘So Sian smashed his balls into little pieces.’

‘She did did she?’ said Giselle in an ambiguous whisper. Then a faint smirk broke out across her pretty, but stern face. ‘Good for her.’

‘Wait!’ said Whitney suddenly sound hopeful. My attention returned to the beautiful brunette holding my scrotum in her hands. ‘Little pieces... Where are the pieces?’ She ran her fingers the length of my scrotum in search of the remains of my testicles.

‘What do you mean?’ asked Sian, anxiously.

‘And the goo,’ added Anna. ‘Anyone who has ever popped a man’s bollocks knows that he gives an involuntary squirt as they crack.’

Whitney stood up to confront Sian face to face. ‘Where’s the fucking goo?’ she demanded furiously.

Sian looked to Giselle for support, but the cold blonde stared back expectantly.

‘The goo...’ she began weakly. Then she must have recalled my cock brushing up her thighs because she looked down to see the slime trail my leaking tip had left behind it. ‘The goo,’ she announced, almost proudly, ‘went in my pussy.’

‘Oh, you poor thing,’ said Giselle, gasping. ‘He got that far?’ She reached into a pot of stationary on the desk beside her and lifted out a large pair of scissors. ‘Here,’ she said pressing them into Sian’s palm. ‘You need to finish the job.’

Sian stared down at the scissors with open mouthed horror. ‘But...’ she said. She looked at me with dread, and then I noticed her eyes flit down to my cock. It was a brief glance, but enough to send me into hysterics.

The other girls, knowing full well that there had been no such rape, watched her with amused anticipation as she slowly bent down and lifted my leaking penis timidly by the foreskin; all apart from Whitney who glared at Sian with pure hatred in her eyes.

The grating of the scissors metal jaws opening was the most terrifying sound I had ever heard. Sian’s hand trembled as she angled the blades around my flaccid meat, but, thankfully, at the last moment she pulled them away and gushed, ‘I can’t do it! It wasn’t entirely his fault – I might have led him on.’

‘Oh,’ said Giselle with disappointment. ‘I’ve heard the rumours – I should have known.’ She snatched the scissors back off the disgraced brunette.

‘Well, it’s probably for the best he gets to keep his cock.’ She went on, glaring down at me to add menacingly, ‘it leaves us something to cut off if he tells anyone the truth about his balls.’

She looked back at Sian and growled, ‘Get him out of here. Everyone else,’ she announced, turning to the crowded women, ‘out!’

The girls filed out of the room, moaning and glancing backward over their shoulders as they went; only Whitney dared to linger.

‘Whitney,’ said Giselle, waiting for her by the doorway. ‘If I have to repeat myself I’ll have you tossed out on the street like I did Laura – I know nothing would make the men here happier than to see you stripped and humiliated.’

Grudgingly, Whitney backed out of the room, glaring all the time at the sight of me and Sian together. The moment she passed through the doorway she turned and rushed away in what sounded like tears. Giselle walked out after her and closed the door behind her pausing only to say, ‘And I hope it goes without saying that you’re both fired.’

‘What?’ cried Sian. ‘Both of us? Why?’

‘What use to me are a frigid slut and a whining eunuch? You’re a sexual harassment lawsuit waiting to happen and he’s... well, he’s a whining eunuch.’ With that she shut the door and left the two of us in stunned silence.

After a long while Sian looked down at me, her face drained of colour. ‘Well, I guess that’s that,’ she said miserably.


It transpired that Gillian had not left my trousers with Sian this time so, after she had untied and retrieved her knickers from my mouth, she dragged my unresponsive body out through the reception and through the car park to her little car. Every movement caused me pain as my hip joints shifted and pressed against my nuts which were floating around somewhere deep inside my groin.

I was deposited in the passenger seat without word. Sian then took her seat and started the engine.

‘Well...’ she said after a long, awkward pause. ‘I guess there’s nothing stopping us from getting together now.’ She could not have sounded less thrilled about the prospect, but I wasn’t about to let her change her mind.

‘Yeah!’ I enthused. She looked at me with an expression of mild despair, but didn’t answer.

I let her pull out of the car park before saying bashfully, ‘Sian, my balls feel like they’re about to explode. Could you... maybe...?’

Before I could finish asking her to take me to the hospital, Sian slammed her foot on the brakes and brought the car to an instantaneous stop which pitched us both forward into our seat belts. Before my head was snapped violently around, I was able to catch the briefest glimpse of Sian’s enormous right tit as it was wrenched sideways by the shoulder harness with enough force to pop the remaining buttons of her blouse and throw it clean out of the garment. Meanwhile, it was the lap harness of my seat belt which caused the ejection of my body parts as it tightened around my groin and squeezed my nuts back out of their overly-snug recesses.

When I fell back into my seat I let out a shriek of anguish. Clutching at the source of the pain I became suddenly overjoyed when I found my hands filled by my erstwhile absent gonads. I was busy delighting in the return of my precious orbs when Sian turned on me unexpectedly; her huge tit still hanging from her torn blouse.

‘Get out,’ she told me, firmly.

I looked at her with wide, hurt-filled eyes. ‘Why?’

‘Because of those,’ she yelled, jabbing an accusatory finger down at my freshly refilled scrotum. ‘I can’t stand to see you clutching them and I can’t stand to hear you bitching about them because every time you do I think of her and want to smash them to a fucking pulp!’


Get out!

She unfastened my seat belt herself and as she leaned across my lap to push open my door her heavy left tit followed its sister’s lead and slipped free of her blouse to land solidly in my lap. After the initial shock, I was able to enjoy its warmth and softness for a few seconds as she struggled with the door handle before I was unceremoniously shoved to the gutter.

The door slammed behind me and there came a squeal of tyres as Sian accelerated away to leave me crippled and half-naked at the side of the road; still in full view of the building filled with females to whom my testicles would make prized trophies should their sharp eyes spot I still had them.

Crawling at speed I crossed the pavement and deposited myself behind a large bush where I hoped I could pause to recuperate.

‘What was that big-titted slut giving you? A tit-wank?’

I looked up to find Laura crouched over me: naked, goose-pimpled and puckered. I gasped with horror when I  realised what it must have looked like when the car door opened to reveal me revelling in the sensation of Sian’s bare breasts against my conspicuously stiff, naked cock.

‘Oh god,’ was all I managed to say before she continued her tearful tirade.

‘I wondered why you didn’t rush to my rescue after I was stripped and tossed out like trash. It’s because I’m just another in a long line of girls you get your dick sucked by.’ She pushed her stiff nippled jugs together and demanded, ‘are these not good enough for you? Was my mouth and pussy not good enough for you?’

Releasing her tits, she reached down and took hold of my balls with both hands. I had seen the dark look she had in her eyes more times than I could remember, but never before from a girl to whom I was of so little consequence.

‘Well, let’s see who’s not good enough when I pop your bollocks,’ she snarled. With that she plunged her thumbs into my testicles without any trace of restraint.

Her efficiency was shocking. I had barely screamed my first lungful of air before the first gristly crack of rupture shook my body, and it wasn’t long before her thumbs had breached my rubbery nut-shells and were sinking deeper: into the very cores of my maleness.

At that point the usual pain morphed from the usual ball-ache into an infinitely more agonising form which was quite literally blinding: my vision was consumed with bright white lights in what seemed more like a religious experience than a castration.

‘There,’ she said shaking the spunking of her hands before staring to unbutton my shirt. ‘Let’s see you get a blow job without those.’

As I lie there, twitching as I was stripped of the last remaining remnants of my dignity, I could help but think as I slowly blacked out how disappointed I was that it had been someone who meant so little to me that had been the one to rob me of my much sought after manhood.

I heard a resounding clang! and Laura face-planted the grass beside me, unconscious.

I blinked away the tears and spots of light and squinted up at the slim figure standing over me holding a metal dustbin lid.

‘Whitney?’ I said in a pained whisper. I couldn’t believe it, but I was actually happy to see her. Then I remembered I no longer had anything she wanted.

‘Hi, honey,’ she said with a tinge of sadness in her voice.

‘You’re too late,’ I croaked. ‘There's nothing left.’

‘Oh, I dunno about that,’ she said, kneeling between my legs to carefully take hold of my deflated sac. ‘Looks like she left me plenty to work with so you just lie back and let me take care of you, lover.’

Doing as I had been told, I rested my head on the soft grass and let the welcome numbness of unconsciousness consume me.