Here is the original version of Hockey Cock, complete with its very brutal ending. Not only is the young and hunky hockey player fully emasculated, he is snuffed as well. This version is NOT for the faint of heart...
Hockey Cock
Original story by an unknown author
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Hockey Cock
"Start talking, Big Dick!”
"Fuck you, man.”
Connor, the forward guard, jabbed the handle end of the hockey stick deeper Into BD's naked crotch, crushing his balls. The defiant young player groaned from the new pain and jerked his arms futility against the grip of his teammates who were holding him In place and reveling in the sight of this big-dicked pretty boy finally getting what he deserved.
Benjamin Daniel Nichols, better known to fans and teammates as "BD," was in deep shit, How could be have expected to get away with it? He should have quit the team and left town the same day be squealed to the Gaming Commission. But he had bad no idea bow widespread the corruption was--no idea that be, as the newest member of the team, was the only one not involved in the point shaving scam. His teammates bad no trouble figuring out that it was Nichols who ratted on them. Now it was just a matter of getting him to admit it. After that It wasn't just his betrayal that had enraged his teammates, though. Some of them bad it in for him since he first joined the team. BD Nichols' stunning ability on the ice, his instant popularity with the fans, particularly with the women, his darkly handsome face, his tall, studly frame, and that enormous cock of his--all had combined to make him an object of intense envy among the other athletes who watched him warily in the showers and in the locker room, wondering if he could be trusted with the team's dirty secret. After his first exposure in the showers, where his prodigious genitals could not go unnoticed, the others had decided his initials would stand for "Big Dick" or sometimes "Biggus Dickus." Nichols hadn't liked these appellations much, but he bad tried to accept his teammates" resentful ribbing with good humor. "Who did you name, you piece of shit?" Nelson, the hulking blond goalie wanted to know. "Did you name us all, or just some of us, you little rat's ass!?" With a viciousness BD had so far only seen expended on their hockey opponents, Nelson struck young BD across the face, nearly knocking him unconscious. He felt his nose begin to bleed. "Strap him to the wall, boys," ordered Connor, who seemed to be in charge of the interrogation. They had jumped him while be was in the locker room dressing for practice. Before he knew what was happening to him, BD's teammates bad stripped off his jockstrap, which was all he had been wearing at the time, and had force-marched him up to the deserted rink. They spread-eagled the handsome young star against one of the billboards that ringed the arena, using handgrips attached to be wall as fasteners to which they could lash his arms and legs. BD looked around him and realized his crotch, exposed and vulnerable, was positioned in the center of the "O" in a huge advertisement for "Coke, the Taste That Refreshes." His arms and legs reached the bright red outer extremities of the painted circle, his midriff and crotch area were centered within it.
"Let me down," he said simply, trying not to sound too much like he was pleading. He watched incredulously as his teammate Connor took one of BD's skates and extracted one of the laces. To the amusement of the other men, Connors tied one end of the lace to the skate blade, then roughly encircled BD's exposed genitals with the other end of the string. He tied it off then let the skate drop so that it pulled the lace tight. BD grunted sharply from the pain to his cock and balls. The skate dangled between his legs, bumping into the billboard and painfully stretching the young man's ample sexmeat.
"Who did you talk to, Big Dick? " Hansen growled.
When BD said nothing, Hansen's and Connor's eyes met briefly, then Connor, who was holding a hockey puck In his right hand, went through the wind-up motions of a baseball pitch. BD realized to his horror that his powerful teammate was about to hurl the puck directly Into his already traumatized genitals. The projectile met its target dead center, sending waves of searing pain throughout BD's body. His balls ached incredibly, and his dick felt as if it were smashed and bruised to the point of uselessness. He could feel his balls contracting and trying to creep up into his abdomen for protection, but they were stretched tight by the weight of the hanging skate. He cried out, no longer caring whether or not he was putting up a brave front.
"You're gonna lose that nutsac of yours, if you don't start talking, son . . ." Connor's voice was menacing, serious, believable.
BD had become accustomed to risqué highjinks among the hockey players. His initiation to the team had Included having his clothes ripped from his body, after which he was strapped butt-down onto the massage table in the locker room. The entire team gathered around him, wearing jock straps over the lower part of their faces in order to mock the appearance of surgeons about to cut up a patient. Connor had been in charge of that show as well, and BD had been genuinely afraid when he saw the straight razor in Connor's hand. They creamed his crotch with Barbasol, and while BD struggled against his bonds, they shaved off all his pubes. When they got to the tender, wrinkled skin of his big ballsac, be began yelling for them not to cut him. At that point Hansen had taken BD's own jockstrap and stuffed it into his mouth to shut him up. After the "surgery," they had jeered at the young man 5 hairless crotch in the shower for days afterward. He had been too shy to pick anybody up at the bars for fear of ridicule once he was naked in bed, so he had had to make do with beating off regularly. Even jacking off felt different to him without his rnanhair. Finally the stigma of the newly initiated had begun to disappear as his crotch regained its normal thatch. BD had finally been recovering his dignity, and now this Connor tossed the hockey puck to his buddy Hansen, and the other players oohed mockingly as the powerful hunk prepared to take his turn at pitching It Into BD's groin. He went through a rapid wind-up and pitch, with BD watching in horrified silence. Then the young stud screamed even louder than last time when his privates were again smashed by the heavy puck.
Connor was losing patience. He grabbed the bound victim's abused cock and balls in his strong right hand and jerked them mercilessly outward from BD's body, causing the young man to gasp and cry out once more from the pain. The dangling skate banged loudly against the backboard. Connor squeezed tight, crushing the soft mass in his thick, rough band.
"Come on, boy . . . who'd you talk to? Who'd you name?" Connor kept asking, staring coldly into the hurting man's eyes. He undulated his fingers as they clasped BD's ballsac and managed to pin one of the victim's nuts in between his thumb and forefinger. "You're gonna talk to me, boy. . ." When BD did nothing but grimace and whimper, Connor squeezed the tender organ with all his might.
The force of Connor's vice grip crushed BD's left ball. He screamed until he was hoarse. Almost delirious from the pain, BD broke down.
"It was the Gaming Commission," he blubbered. "They said they'd arrange a big bonus for me if I kept my eyes and ears open.”
"You sorry piece of shit," Connor said menacingly. "So you sold out your teammates! Who'd you name?" He had found BD's right ball and was ready to crush it as he had juSt done with the other one.
ED whimpered, scared for his manhood. "I . . I said I didn't know how many were in on the scam.
"Who'd you name? " it was Hansen who shouted.
"I said I was pretty sure you two guys were involved," he told Hansen with a pleading look in his eye. "You and Connor. I . . . I said I wasn't sure
There was a moment of silence as the other players, standing about in various stages of undress, considered what the stoolie had just told them. Connors and Hansen were in the most immediate danger, of course. Put how could the others be sure the authorities weren't on to them as well? Connor seemed to sense that his men were with him, that they would support the requisite punishment of a traitorous stoolie. The team captain resumed giving orders to the others.
"Take him down, boys," Connor ordered. "Let's play some hockey. The stud here can watch us from the goal.”
They untied BD from his spread-eagled position on the billboard and unfastened the cockweight, causing the young man to groan both from relief and from new pain that shot through his groin once the lace was untied. Then they shoved him across the ice to the nearest goal. Kicked in the knees from behind, BD was forced bare-assed down onto the ice. His legs were spread wide apart, the ankles tied off to the sides of the goal net. His arms were stretched above him, and his wrists were likewise tied to the netted enclosure. BD's dick and balls rested on the surface of the ice, where the cold began to hurt. His ass and the back of his legs, pressed against the cold surface, soon began to tingle and ache from the fierce cold.
The men finished donning their pads and helmets and began their practice session. Each time one of them shot the puck toward the goal, however, Nelson the goalie deliberately let the shot through, allowing it to slam into BD's exposed crotch. The prisoner threw his head back and howled from the pain each time he was hit. Nelson feigned concern and promised to do a better job of goal tending next time. After a dozen direct hits to BD's groin, the young man began to slump into semi-consciousness. Connor decided he'd had enough. He skated over to the side of the bound, naked prisoner and Slapped him smartly across the face with his heavily gloved hand.
"You ready to tell us the whole story now, boy?" Connor demanded. BD merely contorted his face in the expression of a man fighting back tears. He shook his head, indicating he had nothing to say. 'take young Mr. Macho here downstairs, boys," Connor intoned, staring into BD's scared eyes. "We'll finish what we started when we initiated him. Strap him to the table again.
The threat brought new life to BD's face. "Not Connor, really, I swear I didn't give them anything they could ever use in court Please!" BD's pleas were to no avail as his husky teammates quickly unlashed his arms and legs and half-carried, half-dragged him down to the dressing room. He wound up on his back, spread-eagled on the massage table, just as had been done to him when his crotch was shaved. Once again they stuffed a jock strap deep into his gullet. it was a discarded strap from the laundry bin, and its intense odor and the flavor of manly crotch sweat, piss, and precum made BD gag repeatedly. The others didn't bother with their mock surgical masks this time. They looked deadly serious as they circled the massage table and Connor once again took up the straight razor that would serve as his scalpel. BD tried to scream, but the sounds would not emerge from his throat. His magnificent chest was heaving with nervous panic, and his skin was covered with a sheen of sweat.
"Where'd you get a set of balls and a horsecock like that anyway?" Connor queried with disgust as be eyed the bruised meat between BD's legs. "Your mother fuck a stallion or something?" Hansen laughed. A few of the other men chuckled.
Connor was now lifting the prisoner's abused, tenderized cock from the swollen ballsac where it was resting. He pulled it back and laid it on BD's abdomen.
"Tape that goddamned thing up out of the way," Connor growled. One of the other men cut a piece of bandaging tape and pressed it onto BD's flat, hard belly, pinning the big shaft against his midriff. The tip of his endowment extended up his belly an inch or so higher than his navel. BD's balls, which he could feel crawling with fear, were now exposed to the knife.
"Ready to be a eunuch, son?" Connor asked, looking his victim in the eye. Tears streamed down the sides of BD's face. He craned his head in order to see his own crotch, then let it drop to the table again, as if he were afraid to look.
It took three quick swipes with the straight razor before BD's balls were hanging loose from his crotch, connected only by a few interior strands of tissue. BD's muffled screams went ignored as he arched his groin upward and flung his head from side to side, writhing from pain and horror.
Connor now donned a pair of rubber gloves and prepared to complete the emasculation. With his left hand he pulled hard on the nearly-severed testicles, stretching the bloody mass outward from BD's crotch. With his right hand, Connor inserted the blade underneath the remaining messy strands of flesh and initiated an upward sawing action. The testicles soon came loose completely. Connor held them in his bloodied, gloved hand, then let the slightly hairy balls dangle between thumb and forefinger. He displayed them to his colleagues who stared at them raptly, as if they had never seen a man's balls before. Actually, none of them had ever seen a man's balls cut off before. Hansen grabbed a fistful of BD's hair and jerked his head up, forcing the young ball-less prisoner to view with wide-eyed terror the trophy that had just been cut from between his legs.
"Let's get some more practice in, boys!" said Hansen jovially. "That's what we came here for!" He bent over BD's face. "Thanks for the new hockey puck, Big Dick!" The entire team laughed uproariously and began once again donning their skates.
BD was unstrapped from the table. He was faint and lapsing in and out of shock, but with the rough assistance of his sadistic teammates, he managed to it make up the stairs to the rink level. They let him take the stinking jock strap from his mouth, which he pressed as hard as he could against his bleeding crotch wound. It was soon saturated with blood, however, and BD let it fall to the floor.
Topside BD found the guys hooting even louder than before as they went through their warmup routine. They were using BD's enormous severed ballsac as their puck. The fleshy mass was batted back and forth, up and down the playing area, leaving a faint smear of blood on the ice as it skidded along.
They shoved BD Into one of the penalty boxes and positioned him in a standing position about eight inches behind the wooden rail of the box. The rail was slightly higher than PD's crotch. Hansen entered the box as well, carrying an industrial-size staple gun.
"Put his dick up on that rail, boys," Hansen ordered. His teammates roughly jerked the tape from BD's belly and grasped the thick shaft of their hapless victim. While two men held BD in place, his manmeat was laid out onto the flat surface atop the wooden rail and pinned down.
"No, man . . . no!" BD cried softly as Hansen moved In with the stapler. He pressed the shooting end of the device hard against the thick glans of BD's abused cock, then squeezed the firing mechanism. There was a dull bang as the sharp steel of the staple was forced down through BD's unwilling flesh and into the wood below. BD screamed and threw his head back, crying out "oh God." over and over again. His knees were weak, but he bad enough sense not to collapse. Using all his strength, BD managed to retain consciousness and remain in an upright position in order to prevent his fall from ripping the end of his cock off. Connor tossed BD his jersey and ordered him to stuff it between his legs. BD held the treasured uniform up for a last glance at his number and the proud white lettering, "B. D. Nichols," then crumpled it and inserted it between his muscular thighs in an attempt to stop the bleeding from his crotch wound.
The other team members laughed and left BD standing in his helpless position. His arms were free, but he was unable to do anything to help himself. Any attempt to release his stapled meat would only result in more mutilation.
The men continued their practice, using BD's ballsac as a puck while BD watched in agony from the penalty box. Eventually the young player's balls became so mutilated they were not longer useable, and the team resumed play with a regular puck.
on a couple of occasions, when one of the players would leave the ice for a swig of Gatorade or to take a piss, BD was molested as he stood waiting in the penalty box. Lautrec, a hunky Frenchman from Quebec, skated over to the box, eyeing the naked prisoner lasciviously. He climbed a
The men leaned forward, intent on getting a good view of the amputation. one of them jerked the bloody jersey from between BD's thighs, and the young Adonis flow stood completely nude, save for the steel staple embedded in hi; cock.
"This is what happens to traitors with big dicks, Connors said prior to the first slice. The blade descended rapidly onto the top of BD's penis, just at Its base. Connor slashed once, then twice, while BD writhed vainly against the strong arms that were restraining him. Connor then sliced on the underside of the cock. BD's knees gave way, and his teammates had to hold him up while Connor finished the hacking. Several slicing motions, alternative between the top and bottom of BD's enormous tool, finally succeeded in severing it completely from the young athlete body. He sank to the floor in a state of shock. Hansen viciously ripped the severed penis from the staple clamping it to the wooden railing. He grasped the enormous shaft in his hand and flailed it in BD's face. "You ain't gonna be swingin" this thing around the lockerroorn any more, motherfucker."" he yelled at BD. Still in his submissive kneeling position, ED felt a handful of his dark hair being grabbed by one of the men behind him. His head was pulled back, his mouth forced 0? with the straight razor, and then--the final horror.
Hansen inserted the massive sexmeat into BD's gaping maw, letting it descend into the gullet of the victim from which it had just been severed. Hansen stroked BD's handsome throat, encouraging the prisoner to swallow the cockmeat. It disappeared far enough down BD's throat to become lodged there, where it blocked his breathing. Conner then clamped the young man's mouth shut to prevent him from ejecting the blockage.
BD writhed a final few times, his flesh turning blue he asphyxiated on his own cock.
After BD was dead, his body suffered still more abused. A hockey puck was forced into his gullet, chasing the cock that had earlier been stuffed down his throat. Another couple of pucks went up the handsome corpse's ravaged ass, poked deep inside BD's rectum and gut with the help of a hockey stick. The weight would only be further encouragement for the body to sink to the bottom when they dropped Benjamin Daniel Nichols, a.k.a. "Big Dick," off a bridge and into the icy river just outside town.
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