Friday, September 9, 2016
Based on an original story by Jonoffen
In the uppermost bedroom of a lighthouse on a remote Scottish island, a blonde teenager was excitedly packing her bag in preparation for one of the few nights each year she got to escape the suffocating supervision of her parents and actually have some fun.
She was a slender girl who was entering her full blossom of womanhood, with long and shapely legs from the many stairs she had to ascend daily, and a more-than-ample bosom that was still continuing to grow and develop. In fact, much to her prudish parents’ dismay, puberty had really begun to work its magic and her body grew more curvaceous and womanly with every passing day. The young lass was also blessed (or cursed, in her parents’ opinion) with a devastating beauty, the kind of stunning, heart-shaped face that was beautiful in youth, and would only continue to ripen over the coming years.
“Melanie!” came her mother’s voice, echoing up the endlessly winding staircase. “Time to go!”
“Coming!” she called back, giddy with excitement. Still zipping her bag, she raced down the stairs, out of the lighthouse, and into the waiting car. She fell into the back seat, fairly buzzing with excitement.
“Melanie, what have I told you?” chided her mother. “Good girls keep their knees together.”
Abashed, Melanie pressed her knees together, smoothing her dress over them, and said, “Sorry Mum.”
“And seatbelt on,” came her mother’s still disapproving reply.
Melanie was being taken to a sleepover at her best (and only) friend Siobhan’s house. Siobhan lived on a cattle farm, and though it was over a dozen miles away, it was still the closest house with a girl Melanie’s age.
To say Melanie lived a sheltered life was an understatement; Siobhan and her family were virtually the only outside contact Melanie ever got, except for the occasional visit into the nearly small town. Melanie was being home-schooled by her puritanical parents, in a lighthouse on a jutting peninsula of a windswept and sparsely inhabited island. ‘Isolated’ only began to cover it.
Melanie couldn’t figure out why her parents even allowed her this brief chance to enjoy herself at her best friend’s house. They obviously trusted Siobhan and her parents, and with good reason, but Melanie was surprised that her parents allowed her to stay in the same house as Siobhan’s older brother, Fynn.
Fynn was 18 years old, which meant that he’d already graduated from school and would be heading off to university in the fall. The young man had created quite the stir in the small town when he was awarded a full athletic scholarship at a large university in Glasgow, and that he would be playing for the university’s renowned rugby team. No one in town had really been all that surprised by the scholarship, though, as Fynn had always been a natural athlete.
Melanie had all but grown up with Fynn, and she knew that he had always been a large lad for his age, and tremendously strong as well. He’d begun playing in the local men’s rugby league at 13, already big enough to hold his own, and was bigger and stronger than any other man in town by the age of 15. He’d only grown bigger and stronger in the three years since, and had earned the nickname ‘The Bull’ for his impressive muscular size and incredible strength.
Young Melanie had begun to notice other aspects of Fynn in recent years, however, as she began to hit puberty herself. Like the way his wavy, dark brown hair framed his face, or the fullness of his lips, or the sharp, square shape of his jawline. But especially his eyes - crystal blue orbs beneath long, dark lashes, the kind of soulful eyes that could see into your soul.
Though Melanie had little to compare the young man to, as she had no access to television, magazines, or the Internet, she somehow knew that Fynn was very handsome. Beyond handsome, in fact. But she didn’t understand these strange new feelings she was experiencing; she just knew that she was utterly fascinated by her best friend’s older brother.
Of course, it didn’t help matters that Fynn barely seemed to notice that Melanie existed. He was always dark and brooding, hardly ever spoke, and spent all of his time either doing the chores and heavy lifting on his parents’ cattle ranch, at the small and rustic local gym lifting weights, or at the local pitch playing a rugby game. Melanie hoped that Fynn would notice her some day, but that never seemed to happen…
Melanie’s mother drew the car up alongside Siobhan’s house. Before the vehicle had even come to a full stop, Melanie was throwing open the door. She grabbed her bag and raced to the driver’s door to kiss her mother goodbye through the open window.
“Just remember what I told you,” said her mother as Melanie pecked her on the cheek.
“Good girls bend at the knees, bad girls bend at the waist?”
“Well, yes, but I mean about your visit. If I hear you’ve been anything but ladylike, you will not be allowed to stay over again.”
“Yes, Mum.” Melanie said, as contrite as she could be.
She heard the front door of Siobhan’s house open and looked over the roof of the car to see Siobhan racing down the garden path towards her, giddy with excitement, her curly dark hair trailing behind her. As her mother pulled away, the pair met in a joyful embrace.
“I’ve missed you so much!” cried Siobhan, only to stop squeezing her friend suddenly. “I have to show you something,” she said, excitement and mischief in her sparkling blue eyes. She took Melanie’s hand and led her through the house and into her bedroom, making sure to shut the door firmly behind them.
“Look what I found!” she said, presenting Melanie with a torn out page from a magazine. Melanie gasped. Upon the torn page stood a young woman so breathtakingly top-heavy that it seemed incredible that she didn't just topple forward. But the young woman’s measurements weren’t the only thing which shocked Melanie, as the woman’s breasts were also left completely uncovered.
“Can you believe it?!” asked Siobhan excitedly.
Melanie couldn't. She had never seen such a scandalous image in her young life. The young woman was bearing her breasts! And not only that, but from the shameless smirk on her face, she seemed to be taking pride in it. It was this aspect of the photo which horrified Melanie’s modest sensibilities the most.
“She gets paid for showing her boobs!” Siobhan gripped her young friend by the shoulders and, with her blue eyes twinkling like sapphires, she asked, “Can you imagine?!”
Melanie could imagine and it filled her with horror, shame, and humiliation, and left her feeling quite queasy. Yet Siobhan seemed positively thrilled by the notion; Melanie could tell from the way the young dark-haired girl’s nipples poked obviously through her T-shirt; the same way hers did whenever she thought too much about her friend’s brother, Fynn.
“Can we... do something else?” asked Melanie, profoundly uneasy looking at the naked woman’s breasts.
“Okay,” said Siobhan reluctantly, a little hurt and disappointed that her friend hadn't shown the slightest interest in her find. “Oh!” she said, her eyes lighting up once more, “I have just the game for us. Wait here!” She rushed out of the room, leaving Melanie holding the torn magazine page.
Melanie wanted desperately to drop the offensive photograph, but there was something about the young woman’s breasts that rendered her unable to stop staring. They were so immense and bloated that the skin was stretched and shiny with tension.
When Siobhan returned a few minutes later, Melanie finally snapped out of her trance and set the page down on the sideboard. Siobhan was carrying a basket containing several variously filled water-balloons and a garment of clothing which Melanie recognized as a bra, but which had proportions unlike any she had ever seen.
“Whose bra IS that?” she asked, her wide eyes locked on the gigantic cups.
“It’s my mum’s old maternity bra,” Siobhan told her.
“Your mum’s boobs are big, but they aren’t THAT big!”
“No, not anymore, but they got really big when they were filled with milk.”
“When they WHAT?!?” asked Melanie, horrified by the thought.
“Fill with milk,” repeated Siobhan with a frown. “You know, just like our dairy cows on the farm. All girls’ boobs fill with milk, Melanie,” she continued confidently. “It’s to feed their babies, silly!”
The news came as a shocking revelation to Melanie, who clutched her own ample breasts protectively, unsure about how she felt about them getting bigger and filling with milk.
“I hope my boobs grow as big as that, so I can run away and become a model in one of those magazines,” said Siobhan with an assured grin. She lifted from the basket two extremely over-filled water-balloons and dropped them into the cups of her mother’s bra before unexpectedly lifting her top up to her chin and hoisting the bra and its sloshing contents to her bare chest. Siobhan was still decidedly flat-chested, but when she stood upright with the balloon-filled bra held to her body, the near transparent, bloated orbs that spilled out of the top of the bra bore a shocking likeness to the bloated breasts of young woman from the magazine page.
“What do you think?” she asked Melanie, seductively jiggling them with her hands.
“Um, Siobhan…” Melanie said, shocked by the young girl’s degrading aspiration, but starting to giggle nonetheless. She then noticed a dark circle expanding across one of the bra’s cups. “Looks like you’ve sprung a leak!”
“Oh no!” cried Siobhan, pulling the cup out to peer inside only to be sprayed in the face by a fine jet of water. “My boob has a puncture!”
Melanie watched as the young brunette raced to the set of heavy wooden drawers and began tugging insistently on one of the stubborn drawers until it was open enough for her to push her hand in and fish around desperately for what it was she was searching for. When she withdrew her hand, it was holding a sheet of tiny star-shaped stickers, one of which she quickly peeled off and stuck over the infinitesimal puncture in her pretend left boob.
With the flow of water stemmed, she turned back to Melanie, who noticed that the leaking breast had been reduced to half its size. A sight which made her giggle anew.
“Phew!” said Siobhan, “Saved most of it.”
She walked back to the basket and lifted out the remaining clutch of water-balloons, which had been arranged in such a way to make them instantly obscene to anyone even slightly familiar with the male genitalia. Melanie, however, still had had no exposure to such sights on man or beast.
“What are these?” she asked as they were thrust into her hand.
“Well, I’m the woman,” Siobhan said, cupping her lop-sided boobs. “So that means YOU,” she pushed Melanie’s hand lower until the drooping balloons were held at groin height, “are the man!”
Melanie’s eyes widened as she began to comprehend what she held in her hand. “Is this what boys’ parts look like?!” she asked in a shocked whisper.
“Sure!” replied Siobhan. “It’s what Fynn’s look like, anyway.” Siobhan said with a shrug, which jostled her balloons. The balloons in Melanie’s hands were true as far as proportions went, but anyone with any knowledge of human male genitalia would have known that the scale was wildly optimistic. The cucumber-thick penis was almost ten inches long, and each sagging, water-laden testicle was the size of a large orange.
“You’ve seen his parts!?!?” asked Melanie, both shocked and suddenly very interested.
“Of course I have! Lots of times!” scoffed Siobhan.
Melanie had never really thought about it before, but Siobhan’s house didn’t have a bathroom inside. There was an outhouse out back for the toilet, and ewers and basins for washing hands and faces. She suddenly realized that the big tin tub hanging off the side of the house must be what the family used to take baths, and this was confirmed when Siobhan told her that the family bathed in the living room, using water heated over the fireplace as the bathing water. That meant that Siobhan had seen her parents naked, and even more shockingly, that she’d seen her brother naked. Many times! And perhaps even more shockingly, vice versa as well!
As Siobhan finished telling her blushing friend the sordid details, a sudden devilish grin spread across her pretty face. “Hey, Melanie,” she said. “Do you want to see them?”
As fortune would have it, that evening Siobhan’s parents left on an unscheduled cattle delivery that would see them gone all night. Being the oldest, Fynn was left in charge. He had spent the entire day out in the pastures, heaving around hay bales and mucking out the cattle pens. Fynn was therefore in no mood for his annoying sister and her sweet but simple friend, so he banished them to their bedroom for the rest of the night while he prepared to take a nice long bath.
When Melanie heard him drag an old tin bath tub across the living room and set it down indelicately on the stone in front of the fireplace, she asked Siobhan impatiently, “Can we watch yet?”
“No, he’ll catch you looking! Wait until he gets out. He’ll have forgotten we’re here by then.”
Melanie groaned impatiently, but remained by the door listening intently as Fynn continued to prepare his bath. She could hear him dragging over a heavy oak coat stand upon which he hung his towel. She was very familiar with all of the furniture in Siobhan’s house, so she knew exactly how huge and heavy that oak coat stand truly was, and her heart began beating a bit faster at the realization of just how strong Fynn must be to be able to move such a heavy piece of furniture all by himself.
The girls had changed into their pajamas. They both wore white cotton vest tops and woolen pajama bottoms in differing tartan patterns. Siobhan still wore her mother’s maternity bra under her vest, complete with water balloons. Due to the general coldness of the farmhouse’s stone floors, the girls also wore thick woolen socks, which had the added benefit of making their footsteps almost silent.
“Are you really going to stand there all night?” asked Siobhan with a sigh. She fell onto her bed heavily, the water-balloons rolling up her chest to crash against her chin. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the warmth and enveloping softness of the by now body-temperature balloons against her chest and neck. Feels so good, she thought. Like a real woman. She found herself squeezing the squeaking balloon breasts with a groan of satisfaction.
“I think I can hear him unbuckling his belt,” whispered Melanie excitedly. Siobhan ignored her, instead slipping her right hand under the waistband of her pajama bottoms, and setting her fingers to work. Though only recently discovered, Siobhan had quickly become so practiced at masturbating in silence that Melanie didn’t even notice. With her ear pressed to the door, Melanie mistook the wet noises of the brunette’s furious fingering for the sounds of Fynn splashing as he bathed.
“I think he"s getting out of the bath!” she finally hissed some minute later. She looked back to find Siobhan on the bed with her legs hitched up and breathing in sharp pants.
“What are you doing?” she asked with concern.
Siobhan stopped what she was doing immediately and said guiltily, “Nothing.” She carefully withdrew her hand and sat upright, sending her sloshing balloons falling back into the waiting cups of her bra. “He’s getting out you say?”
Melanie nodded excitedly, so with a groan of effort, Siobhan pushed herself up off the bed and dragged herself over to the door. Silently, she pushed it open a crack and peered out across the expansive living room of the old farmhouse.
Fynn had indeed lifted himself from the steaming water, but this (Siobhan knew from watching him many times) was only the start of a set of strange rituals he went through before stepping out of the tub. She motioned for Melanie to join her. The young blonde dropped to her knees and shuffled in beneath her friend and barely noticed the heavy water-balloons which came to rest on her head as she was too busy gasping at the sight of Fynn who stood in the tub with his wide, powerful back to the girls as he brushed the water from his hair.
The young man’s body was utterly spectacular. Melanie knew this with a certainty, despite her lack of references for comparison. Fynn was tall and extremely broad shouldered, possessing a powerful frame. And that was a good thing, for the beefy lad was packing a tremendous amount of muscle, and it took a large frame to hold so much muscular size. His wide back was a complex series of bulges and valleys, glistening and dripping with rivers of bath water, and his enormous shoulders looked like a pair of cannon balls. Fynn had long limbs, with arms thick with powerful muscle, and a set of thighs and calves so colossal that they looked almost comical. These legs were so massive, so mind-blowingly muscular that even other rugby players looked at them with envy.
This was NOT the body of an 18 year old. This was the physique of a mature bodybuilder, not of some lad barely into his manhood. Nevertheless, Fynn’s body was nothing short of heroic in both its size and its exquisite proportion, and despite his epic size, there was plenty of room on his massive frame for even MORE growth. The lad was a true bull of a man.
But despite his overwhelmingly impressive body, the only thing Melanie had eyes for was his pale white bum. Fynn’s incredibly wide back narrowed down dramatically to a tight and muscular waist, below which was the most mighty, muscular ass imaginable. The young man’s enormous butt cheeks looked like a pair of ridiculously overinflated footballs, gorgeously curved at both top and bottom with deep dimples on their sides. She looked up at Siobhan and the pair shared a giggle. Melanie’s laughter trailed off, however, when she looked back at the young hunk and caught sight of what dangled beneath his milky white cheeks.
“What is THAT?!” Melanie asked, referring to the heavy, sagging sac that swayed hypnotically in between the young man’s phenomenally well-muscled thighs. As he went on to brush the excess water from his thick arms, that bulging sac wobbled ponderously, speaking to the enormous weight of their heavy contents.
“What are you talking about?” whispered Siobhan.
Stooping next to brush the water from his legs, Fynn unknowingly exposed the curious pink and silky bag further, along with a second, tubular appendage that apparently hung down in front of the sac, extending down even further. It was only when the lad was near to grabbing his ankles, however, that the firelight fell over the heavily flopping sac to make suddenly very evident that a very large pair of egg-shaped orbs which filled the dangling sac.
Melanie had no idea what she was looking at and nothing to judge them against, but something deep down told her that what she was seeing was extremely, almost impossibly, impressive.
“Oh yeah, those,” said Siobhan with remarkable disinterest. With a fresh set of eyes, she tried appreciating her brother’s thick, plump, and hefty nuts. She did note how much larger they had grown in the past few years, and how much farther they were hanging down in his supple scrotum. She realized that his balls must be exceedingly heavy to have stretched his nutsac down to more than 3 inches from his crotch, and she idly wondered how much more they would grow and how much farther they would hang in the years ahead.
“Those are the parts Mum takes from the bulls so they don’t annoy the cows. She calls it their ‘swinging beef.’” She chuckled and whispered mischievously, “Maybe if I take away Fynn’s swinging beef, he’ll stop annoying me!”
Her words struck a chord with Melanie, who looked back at Fynn’s enormous ‘swinging beef’ and asked seriously, “How would you take them?”
“Same way Mum does, I guess,” said Siobhan with a shrug. “Smash them between two big bricks.” She held out her hands and brought them together savagely. “SPLAT! Though Fynn’s nuts are bigger than those of most of the bulls, so I’d probably have to do them one at a time…”
Melanie stared up at her friend with wide, twinkling eyes and let the image sink in as something stirred inside her. She envisioned placing both of the young man’s huge balls on a large, flat brick, and then pulverizing them with a blow from a second big brick. Her heartbeat sped up once again, and she felt a little bit dizzy.
When he was done removing the excess water from his naked body, Fynn half-turned and reached for the towel hanging from the antique coat rack standing at the head of the bath. Melanie quietly gasped as she saw his breathtakingly handsome face in profile, and then let her eyes wander down the length of his exquisite body. The rippling of his enormous shoulders, the swell of his bulging pecs, the raw power evident in those massive arms, the cobblestone appearance of his washboard abs.
But it was Fynn’s groin that caught Melanie’s avid attention. Seen from the side, the long tube of flesh protruding from the young lad’s muscular crotch was even more impressive, looking like some sort of huge summer sausage. It looked almost like another limb sticking out from his groin, a thick and incredibly long tube of flesh that very nearly matched the earlier cucumber-shaped water balloon for both girth and length. Melanie estimated that the appendage was perhaps 8 or even 9 inches long, and she doubted that she could encircle its entire width with the fingers of one hand. There was a handsome knob at the far end of Fynn’s heavy cock, mostly partially covered by some sort of hood of skin but still clearly visible. Melanie wondered what that strange but appealingly attractive appendage was for.
Her eyes were even more captivated by the enormous, sagging bag dangling behind Fynn’s monster cock. The gigantic balls swung heavily as Fynn turned sideways, bouncing and jostling against each other before settling once more in the bottom of that baggy, voluminous pink sac. With the light catching it from the side, Melanie could now see that a sparse dusting of coarse, dark hairs covered that otherwise silky smooth sac, and she wondered what that combination of rough and smooth would feel like in her pretty little hands.
Fynn was having difficulty freeing his towel from the hook, and he tugged it indelicately before finally freeing it. He turned around the other direction and gingerly stepped out of the tub, unaware that he had unbalanced the top-heavy rack enough to send it toppling after him.
It all happened so quickly that the two girls could only watch in rapt fascination, similar to witnessing a traffic accident on the motorway. Only Melanie realized shortly afterward that, even if she’d had time to call out a warning, she wouldn’t have done so.
As Fynn lifted the large bath towel to his face, the entire heavy oak coat rack toppled toward the unsuspecting hunk. A huge, round, decorative acorn sat atop the coat rack, and it cut a graceful arc as it fell toward the handsome stud. The huge fell a fraction too short to strike the lad in the coccyx, and instead slipped between his muscular buttocks to strike him with brutal force on the back of his huge, low-hanging left nut.
The devastating impact send his massive bollock swinging forward and upward, taking with it both its heavy twin and the meaty sausage cock, so that his entire genitalia was flopped up on itself in a shocking display that had both the girls gasping out loud.
Fynn did not hear their surprised intakes of breath, however. He was too preoccupied with the unexpected shock of an assault on one of his massive bollocks, the recognition of which he had barely processed before the malevolent coat rack hit the rim of the tin bath and rebounded to smash the testicle it had missed in its first strike as it flopped back down into its path. Fynn’s goliath right nut was crushed against his muscular and unyielding crotch, smashed dangerously flat before the coat rack fell once more, allowing the squashed bollock to rebound to its massive, egg-like shape.
The girls watched wide-eyed as Fynn’s lengthy scrotum disappeared between his legs only to reappear once more to curl up around his arse with a slap. The heavy sac then swung forward once again to hang, heavy and throbbing, between the young man’s colossal thighs.
It was all too much for Siobhan. She covered her mouth and raced to her bed, where she leapt on top of the covers and buried her face in her pillow to let out her uncontrollable mirth. Melanie, in contrast, remained glued to the doorway, waiting to see what would happen next.
Fynn too was overwhelmed by the event, but in an entirely different way. As the coat rack settled against the side of the old bath tub as if nothing had happened, the towel fell from the young man’s hands to reveal a stunning handsome face frozen with a mixture of shock and distress. His stunning blue eyes were open wide in surprise, and his mouth hung open in a silent scream of agony.
After a few moments where time seemed to stand still, Fynn finally began to move, reaching down to cradle his battered testicles with both of his big hands as he simultaneously bent at both his waist and knees and fell heavily to the stone floor. A deep grunt of pain was forced from his lungs as he hit the floor, followed by a low-pitched rumble resonating from deep within Fynn’s thick chest. It took Melanie several moments to realize that this low sound was the sound of a long moan escaping Fynn’s parted lips.
Melanie watched with twinkling eyes as Fynn’s big strong fingers curled around the swinging organs and delicately cupped them. The young lass knew that this young man had an extraordinary gift of strength, yet there was a gentleness to his touch that she found tremendously arousing. Fynn slowly sat back on his heels and then bent further forward at the waist until his forehead was resting against the cold stone floor, never once removing his hands from around his big, bruised balls.
Though greatly amused by the young man’s misfortune, another feeling was overriding Melanie’s mirth, a feeling that the young woman had never before experienced. It was like butterflies in her tummy, but she had never felt them fluttering as far south as they were now. She traced the sensation with her fingers, down her flat stomach and lower until she came to a place, she realized suddenly, that she should not be touching. She withdrew her hand quickly and squeezed her thighs together in an attempt to smother the shameful tingling. But squeezing her legs so tightly together only seemed to make the frightening feeling grow.
When finally able to control her laughter enough to speak, Siobhan lifted her face from her pillow to ask, “Did you see his face, Melanie?! That was AWESOME!” Then she noticed the huge wet patch that radiated out from around her chest and soaked her duvet.
“My boobs!” she cried, jumping up to grip at the empty, sodden cup of her bra. “I popped my boobs!”
Melanie looked suddenly at the water balloon representation of the male genitalia, which she had set down on the sideboard earlier. She realized that the balloons were a surprisingly close approximation of Fynn’s burgeoning manhood, though the cucumber-shaped balloon was slightly larger than Fynn’s real cock, and the orange-sized water balloon balls were a bit smaller than Fynn’s actual bollocks. Melanie tossed aside the thick penis balloon and took hold of one of the fake testicles, testing its resilience with a few gentle squeezes. The balloon’s stretched rubber gave with surprising ease, denting deeply wherever her fingers squeezed. Melanie squeezed harder and harder still, fascinated by how the testicle balloon deformed in her hand. She was so caught up in her fantasies that she was startled when the tortured balloon finally popped, showering her hand in warm water and leaving it clutching only a few shriveled scraps of brightly-colored rubber.
“Siobhan,” she said in a thrilled whisper, “do you think one of Fynn’s swinging beef might have popped?”
Siobhan gasped with genuine concern. “I don’t know,” she said. “Gosh, maybe. We should check.”
“He’ll be okay though, right?” said Melanie, uncertain if her words were a statement or a question. She scrunched up her nose and added reasonably, “I mean, what does he even need them for anyway?”
Siobhan’s eyes widened as she pondered the question. “I don’t know. Maybe you’re right,” she said, face suddenly intense. “I mean, it’s not like I’ve seen him DO anything with them!”
Realizing that she was on a roll, Melanie pressed on, asking, “And didn’t your mum say that they’re the reason he’s so annoying?”
Siobhan gasped with sudden realization. “She said that’s why she takes them from the bulls! So yeah, they must be what makes him so annoying!”
Seeing that her friend was visibly bristling with indignation, Melanie decided to go for broke. “Siobhan,” she whispered fiendishly, “I think we should totally take Fynn’s swinging beef!” Though she had no idea what ‘taking’ Fynn’s boy parts would entail, the mere thought of it caused the tingling in her naughty parts to spread to her budding breasts and stiffen her nipples into bullets.
Siobhan looked up at the blonde, wearing a dark expression on her pretty face. Without breaking eye contact, she snatched up the remaining balloon testicle from the sideboard and held it out in front of her. Melanie’s lustful eyes flickered between the swollen orb and the heavy penis which swung after it and flopped around comically beneath. With a flash of rage, Siobhan clenched her fist. The turgid rubber ballooned out from between her fingers briefly before bursting over the two girls to drench their cotton vests. The wet fabric clung to the outline of the girls’ chests, making apparent their exceptionally erect nipples. But while arousal was the cause of Melanie’s stiffness, it was fury which hardened Siobhan’s pink nubs.
“Let’s do it!” she growled.
There came a sudden loud thump from the next room. The girls rushed over to the crack in the door to investigate. They peered out to find that Fynn had flopped heavily to his side like some sort of fallen redwood tree, still clenching his battered balls in his hands but appearing to have passed out.
Melanie excitedly pulled open the door, but Siobhan caught it before she could exit. The young blonde looked back at her friend quizzically.
“Maybe they popped already?” asked Siobhan.
“Only one way to find out!” Melanie replied.
The pair looked back at Fynn as he let out another pitiful moan and began to lift himself onto his hands. His enormously muscular legs appeared to be uncooperative, so he began to crawl towards his bedroom, simply dragging the great meaty bulk of his legs limply after him. His legs were not the only thing dragging limply against the cold stone floor. The girls ducked down to get a better look at all of the heavy meat that dangled from his groin.
“I can’t tell from here,” said Siobhan, her squinting eyes searching for the trace of shape in the loose trailing sac.
All of a sudden Fynn collapsed to the floor, exhausted or perhaps passing out again.
“We should just go out there and make sure,” insisted Melanie, becoming frustrated with her friend’s reticence, and immensely eager to see the young man’s big swinging beef up close.
With another piteous groan, Fynn rolled onto his side. His baggy scrotum was so long and loose that one of his mammoth bollocks rested on the stone floor, while its brother sat heavily atop the first, looking like a pair of stacked grapefruits. Siobhan gasped and went to close the door, fearful that Fynn would see them, but this time Melanie caught and held it. Fynn was far too intent on his intimate agony to notice the girls in the doorway, and, in full view of the pair, took hold of his scrotum and began to probe it tentatively with both hands.
The girls watched in suspense as his fingers gently traced the full, round shapes of his individual testicles. He gingerly applied a minimal amount of pressure to each weighty bollock to check their structural integrity, wincing and grunting with the pain this digital exploration caused. But he was soon satisfied that his mighty balls were indeed still intact, and so he slowly curled into a ball on the cold floor and appeared to pass out once again.
Melanie shoved Siobhan aside and marched through the living room towards Fynn’s muscular, unmoving form, intent on checking out his hanging bollocks for herself. But before she reached him, the living room was unexpectedly illuminated by headlights as a car pulled into the drive.
“It’s Mum and Dad! They’re back!” hissed Siobhan, rushing past Melanie, who had frozen on the spot. Siobhan took her unconscious brother by his thick wrists and, with a grunt of exertion, Siobhan tried to hauled him toward his bedroom.
The beefy lad was simply far too heavy for her to move on her own, though. “Help me, Melanie!” she pleaded. The terrified blonde quickly complied and took Fynn by one of his wrists, letting Siobhan take the other. They turned the young man so that he was facing the floor, and as they heaved and pulled with all of their strength, they managed to pull him a few inches as a time toward his bedroom. The heavily muscled young man was so heavy, though, that they could barely keep his head and shoulders elevated off the floor. This meant that the rest of his body, including his poor bruised eggs, dragged across the cold and uneven flagstones. The unconscious Fynn was mercifully oblivious to the further pain this caused his banged up bollocks, however, and he didn’t even make a sound as he was dragged into his bedroom.
The girls had him at the threshold of his room when Siobhan told Melanie, “Get him inside! Illl stall my parents.” She let go of her brother’s beefy left arm, letting it fall heavily and limply to the floor with a loud smack, and then headed toward the front door.
“But…!” began Melanie, realizing that she couldn’t hope to move Fynn’s hulking frame on her own, but it was already too late — Siobhan had rounded the corner in the hallway and was gone. Melanie looked down at the beautifully muscled form lying on the floor, a beefy bull of a man who weighed well over twice her slender weight, and she doubted that she could even budge him an inch on her own. At the same time, she knew she had no other option, so with a growl of determination, she grabbed both of his immensely thick wrists and heaved with all of her might.
To her surprise, Fynn slid a couple of inches into his room, so with hope building inside her, Melanie heaved again, and again, and once again. With another dozen powerful lurches, she finally succeeded in getting Fynn all the way into his room, far enough that she could finally shut the door behind them.
Melanie was now alone with her best friend’s older brother, and she let her gaze drink in all of his masculine beauty. Even lying face down, Fynn was a glorious sight to behold, all chiseled muscles and raw power under a thin layer of unblemished skin. The young man’s titanic thighs were parted, and Melanie could see Fynn’s huge and plump pink eggs protruding out from beneath his spectacular ass. Even from a distance, Melanie could now clearly see that both egg-like spheres were indeed intact. The heavy orbs were definitely redder than they were before they were struck by the heavy oak coat rack, but they otherwise looked unharmed.
A rush of desire washed over Melanie’s beautiful, slender form as a sudden idea struck her. She walked up between Fynn’s still legs, lifted one sock-clad foot, and let it hover over the young man’s huge sac of nuts. She hesitated for just a few moments before lowering her foot down on the warm and surprisingly resilient balls.
Her heart thudding in her throat now, Melanie slowly transferred her weight forward onto that foot, and then raised her other foot behind her into the air. She was now standing fully on top of Fynn’s mighty bollocks, her entire weight pressing down onto his tender testes.
Even in his insensible state, Fynn’s immensely muscular back arched and he let out a strangled mewling noise as his massive manhood flattened beneath Melanie’s weight. The young man’s bollocks were squashed down to a mere fraction of their normal thickness, looking like a pair of huge beefy pancakes, but refused to flatten any further. Melanie was surprised at how dense the ball flesh felt beneath her feet, and how resilient, so much stronger and tougher than any mere water balloon. Even through her thick woolen socks, she could feel the dense rubbery flesh protest against her invading foot, struggling mightily to not collapse under her mercilessly crushing weight.
Melanie stood there for what seemed like an eternity, but was probably just a few minutes. Her intuition told her that it probably wouldn’t take much more weight to make Fynn’s big balls break. She imagined what it would feel like to have Fynn’s tough and powerful eggs popping beneath her. It would barely affect her at all, merely dropping her down a couple of centimeters as the huge orbs finally gave way, but she somehow knew that the effect on Fynn would be life-changing and permanent.
The yearning in her rude bits grew once more, stronger than even before. This time she couldn’t resist the powerful urges, and she let her hand travel down to the waistband of her pajamas, even as she continued to stand directly on top of Fynn’s quivering and heroically struggling nuts.
But before her fingers had slipped far beneath her waistband, the sound of the front door opening and closing snapped her back to reality. She set her raised foot down on Fynn’s still arching back, forcing him back into the floor before ever-so-grudgingly removing the other foot from his squashed swinging beef. She was both disappointed and impressed when she saw his massive balls immediately plump back to their normal shapes, apparently unharmed by the several minutes of brutal crushing.
Melanie was about to race for the exit when she heard Siobhan’s parents in the hallway, talking with their daughter and heading toward their own bedroom. Melanie realized that she was trapped, and quickly searched for a place to hide…
Siobhan said good night to her parents, and then quickly sped back to her own bedroom, expecting to find her best friend waiting for her. She was immediately shocked to learn, however, that Melanie was not in her bedroom.
“Crap!” she quietly hissed.
Fearing Siobhan’s parents would open Fynn’s bedroom door at any minute, Melanie had sought out the only place in the room where she could hide — beneath Fynn’s bed. It was a massive, oak-framed bed, the kind where the mattress was almost four feet off the ground, and where there was plenty of space for a slender young woman to hide beneath. Fortunately, there was also a large rug beneath the bed, or else Melanie would already be shivering from being pressed against the cold stone floor.
Melanie’s heart continued to thunder in her chest even after the last sounds of activity had quieted in the house, and she was reasonably confident everyone else had gone to sleep. She was just about to get up and make good her escape, though, when Fynn finally started to stir.
The huge lad lifted himself up onto his hands and knees, clearly still wobbly from the pain inflicted on his bollocks (including several minutes of brutal crushing about which he was totally unaware). He didn’t seem to question how he’d gotten into his bedroom, and instead hauled himself the half dozen feet toward his bed…and Melanie’s hidden, silent form. As he painfully climbed up the side of the bed, the lass had a front row seat to view his massive chest, his spectacularly corrugated abdominal muscles, and all of the thick, juicy meat sprouting so heavy and full from his crotch. Her breath caught involuntarily in her throat as she gazed upon all of that gorgeous male flesh, and though she ached to reach out and touch all of that beauty, she didn’t dare move an inch.
Fynn hauled himself about halfway up onto his mattress before collapsing with exhaustion. The wooden slats above Melanie’s head audibly groaned beneath his great bulk, and the young woman feared for a moment that the bed would collapse on top of her. But the sturdy bed held, and Melanie heard Fynn give out a wretched sigh before falling asleep once more.
Once the young man’s breaths were deep and regular, Melanie scooted forward a few inches to get a better look at him. Her vision was first framed by Fynn’s colossally muscular thighs, and Melanie suddenly longed to see the young man in the middle of a scrum. With legs as immense and as powerful as these, she was convinced that he could hold back the entire opposing team by himself!
As she scooted a little farther forward, Melanie’s mind switched from thoughts of escape to erotic thoughts of exploration. Fynn had pulled himself up far enough that his entire upper body and most of his ass were lying on the bed, and his massive legs dangling off the side and extending almost to the floor. Also dangling over the side of the bed, however, were Fynn’s gigantic bull nuts, which were now gently swaying just inches from her flushed and excited face.
Melanie knew she might never get an opportunity like this again, so she decided to make the most of it.
The sight of Fynn’s bountiful man parts dangling exposed between his columnar legs was too good on an invitation for Melanie to refuse. She moved forward until her face was mere inches away from those heavy orbs, and she eyed the saggy sac and its weight contents with rapt fascination.
‘They really DO look like eggs,’ she thought to herself, gazing at the young man’s twin testicles. ‘Only much, MUCH bigger!’ Up close, she could see that the mighty bollocks were indeed far larger than the orange-sized water balloons that Siobhan had made, and she wondered if grapefruits were still an underestimation in size. She instinctively knew somehow that testicles of this size were something unusual, something precious and rare, and that made her even more fascinated by them.
Fynn’s huge orbs suddenly moved of their own accord, and Melanie recoiled slightly in shock, fearful that Fynn was awakening. But Fynn was clearly sound asleep, even snoring quietly. The big eggs-shaped things squirmed and rolled about the loose, pink pouch with surprising animation given their owner’s stillness.
With her chest tightening and her breaths coming in shallow little pants, Melanie found herself reaching out a trembling finger to touch one of the bulging eggs. Her soft fingertip made only the slightest contact with the smooth skin of the sac, but the eggs reacted like they had received an almighty flick; they lurched high up the sac, causing Melanie to gasp with fright. She covered her mouth and watched with wide eyes as the hefty organs reached the pinnacle of their ascent, only to fall heavily back down. They struck the bottom of the springy sac and bobbled about for a time before settling back into their subtle squirming.
Their sudden overreaction was, it seemed, entirely independent of the rest of Fynn, which had remained completely unperturbed by her gently probing finger. He continued to sleep deeply. Seeing this, Melanie plucked up the courage to go further.
Melanie gently curled her fingers around the neck of Fynn’s large scrotum, the spare hairs tickling her fingers. She then delicately drew her fingers down the loose, lightly-haired skin until they caught on his fat orbs. Fynn let out a soft groan, and though his eggs did attempt another retreat, Melanie’s grasp prevented them from going anywhere. The young blonde bristled with delight at the sensation of the orbs jerking helplessly against her grip.
The heat coming off of those massive orbs was astounding, and Melanie could actually feel the power and masculine vitality that surged through Fynn’s mammoth nuts. With her confidence and lust growing, she tightened her grip around Fynn’s sac even further to force the eggs into an ever more compacted and shining bunch. This action drew a more aggrieved groan from Fynn, but he remained unconscious.
Melanie was pleased to see that her grasp had subdued the squirming of the huge eggs and allowed her to make out more details in the curious shape of the male organs. They were indeed similar in size and shape to chicken eggs, though vastly larger and heavier. They were also not as entirely round and smooth as she had originally thought, having a lumpy protrusion on their back sides.
The young woman suddenly became aware of her overwhelming desire to squeeze the organs, to test their resilience to their limits… and perhaps even beyond. She wrapped her free hand around the tight package of rubbery meat, and realized that even with both hands, she couldn’t manage to grasp all of that bloated meaty goodness at one time. But she wrapped her slender fingers around as much of that hot, heavy man meat as she could, and then she began to squeeze.
Melanie only squeezed gently at first, remembering how quickly the water balloon at burst in her hand earlier in the evening. But she quickly learned that Fynn’s huge bull balls were far, far tougher than mere water balloons, and so she gradually increased the force of her grip. The harder she gripped, the more pressure she forced into Fynn’s big, bloated nuts, and the more excited she became, which only served to encourage her to clutch her fingers even tighter.
The pretty lass had a surprisingly strong grip, and soon she was forcing virtually all of that strength into her grasping fingers. Her rough and brutal squeezing finally put an end to Fynn’s stillness. His massive legs began to twitch, spasmodically at first, but as the impetuous young blonde’s fingers sunk deeper and deeper into his tough testicles, the twitches turned into sustained writhing, and deep moans of pain began to issue from the young male’s lips.
A massive wave of pleasure suddenly surged through Melanie’s damp and dripping loins, and she involuntarily squeezed harder still, clutching the young man’s trapped testicles with every ounce of her considerable strength. The behemoth balls were now profoundly deformed in her grip, taking on unnatural shapes that a man’s testicles were never meant to assume, and looked to Melanie like they might burst at any moment. In fact, almost any other man’s gonads would have ruptured at this point, failing under such brutal pressure, but Fynn’s huge bollocks were as unusually tough as they were unnaturally large, and so they endured even this extreme treatment…but just barely.
The shooting agony in his bollocks finally caused Fynn to wake up. The young man lurched suddenly into a sitting position, moaning loudly. Panicking, Melanie released the lad’s nearly mangled gonads just moments before his own huge hands rushed forward to cup the wounded organs, and she threw herself back under the bed.
“My BALLS!!” moaned Fynn loudly, immediately curling himself over his agony-filled groin and gently rocking back and forth. His voice was incredibly deep and resonant, and Melanie found that the sound of the handsome young man’s voice expressing such a profound ache turned her on even more.
As Fynn explored his balls with his thick fingers, he noticed that they seemed to be even bigger than before. He figured that the double whammy he’d received from the coat rack earlier had done more damage than he’d thought. This realization worried him, so he sat up, scooted over to the edge of the bed, and went about examining his swollen bollocks in the light of the full moon that poured through his window.
Fynn held his enormous limp cock in one hand, keeping it out of the way as he gently probed his throbbing jewels with the other. They were indeed considerably swollen, and an angry shade of red, but they at least appeared undamaged. The hulking young muscle man sighed with relief, but relief alone wouldn’t allay his constant pain. Taking a firmer hold of the flaccid shaft in his other hand, Fynn decided to take his mind off the discomfort by causing his genitals the type of swelling he enjoyed.
He began to lovingly stroke his big shaft, while at the same time reaching blindly under the bed for his usual wanking paraphernalia. Melanie stifled a scream as his hand curled under the bed and almost copped a feel of her boob. Luckily, his fingertips set down on one of the magazines she was lying on top of. She quickly lifted herself off the obscene material as he slid it out from under her.
Over the soft, rhythmic sound of him pumping his rapidly stiffening rod, Melanie heard him open the magazine and purr in his deep and unbelievably sexy voice, “Oh yeah, fuck, that’s hot! I bet you’d like this huge bull cock inside you. Yeah, that’s right. Fucking worship my big fucking muscles, especially this huge muscle between my legs!” Though the innocent young blonde’s ears had never before heard such language, the deep gruffness of Fynn’s voice and the imagery he was invoking made Melanie shudder with renewed lust.
Melanie was curious to know what Fynn was looking at, and she found she was actually lying on top of a small pile of similar magazines. She slid out the top one and silently flicked through its pages. As half the magazine seemed devoted to advertisements for a bewildering array of terrifying-looking ‘toys’, it was several pages in before she reached the first photograph. Its obscenity caused her to recoil with a gasp.
Not only did the model have her breasts bared, but, spread with her fingers as if eager to display every nook, the pretty young woman presented her most intimate parts to the camera. Melanie recoiled, but couldn’t take her eyes off the part which she had never had a chance to study in such detail. Her parents had purposely secured every mirror in the lighthouse at an inconveniently high level on the walls, so Melanie had never even gotten a good look at her own sex before.
Melanie was frozen for many long moments, staring at close up images of the female sex, both horrified and fascinated by them at the same time. Then with a start, she closed the magazine, her eyes still wide with shock and new knowledge.
Meanwhile, the old wooden bed frame was creaking furiously above her as Fynn subjected himself to some form of violence. Desperate to know what he was doing while looking at such offensive material, Melanie shuffled forward and peered up through the slats of the bed frame.
The 2-inch-wide gaps between the wooden slats let Melanie look up the towering length of the handsome young man perched above her. She immediately saw that one of his hands was furiously pistoning up and down a huge pink tube that she thought at first was a huge log of sausage. Her eyes all but bugged out of her head as she quickly realized that that log was actually Fynn’s cock, somehow swollen to vastly larger dimensions, and transforming from a limp, dangling appendage to a rock solid shaft pointing straight up to the ceiling.
Melanie remembered the cucumber-shaped balloon that Siobhan had given her earlier, and thinking that the balloon was a bit larger than Fynn’s actual cock. But that had been before, when his cock was in its limp state. Now that it was as hard as warm steel and protruding proudly upward from his groin, the young girl realized that the balloon very much underestimated the size of the young man’s enormous cock. Even from her odd angle, the lass could tell that Fynn’s monster cock was well over a foot long, perhaps 14 inches or more in length. Its shaft was tremendously thick, so thick that Melanie doubted she could encircle its awesome girth even with both hands. Even Fynn’s own huge hand could only wrap around perhaps two thirds of that bloated, vein-covered shaft. The gigantic, apple-sized knob at the end of Fynn’s cock was now fully exposed and glistening, the thick hood of foreskin fully retracted. The massive, mighty organ was one of the most beautiful sights Melanie had ever seen.
Closer at hand, however, Melanie could see that his huge, heavy orbs were resting on one of the gaps between the slats. The colossal gonads were far too large and plump to fit through such a narrow gap, and the young lass wanted to see if she could change that. Eager to get her hands on the massive lump pair, Melanie tested each slat and found to her delight that both slats were loose enough to slide to either side, which should allow the stubborn eggs to drop through. She very slowly and gently pushed aside first one slat, and then the other, eager and anxious to get a closer look at Fynn’s mammoth testicles.
She was unprepared for the avalanche of hairy pink meat that plummeted toward her face the moment the second slat was shifted. Melanie immediately dropped to the floor and braced herself for the impact. But after a few seconds went by and she was not struck in the face by his heavy swingers, Melanie cautiously opened her eyes to find them swinging a literal pubic-hair’s-length from her nose.
Relieved, she took in a deep breath, and her nostrils were filled the pungent, salty, musky scent of his sweaty, ponderously swaying testicles. The scent was strong and overwhelmingly male, and Melanie felt parts very low in her body immediately tighten. She almost gasped with the intensity of the feeling, and breathed in even deeper, taking Fynn’s heavy and erotic scent all the way into her lungs.
Above her, Fynn continued to abuse himself, beating his enormous meat with a force and fury that looked to be painful. He was oblivious to the peril his treasured testicles were in as he worked himself to the edge of climax.
Melanie watched with lustful fascination as his swinging beef began to slowly rise with the young man’s growing urgency. It was clear to her that, within seconds, they would withdraw back through the gap and out of her reach. Acting quickly, she slid the loose slats back the way they came, and then slid them even closer together. The narrow gap she left wasn’t tight enough to pinch the neck of his dangling sac, but was easily more than tight enough to prevent his astoundingly fat and turgid eggs from slipping back through. Fynn was too lost in throes of ecstasy to notice the abrupt halt in the rise of his testicles as they met the bottom of the wood.
The sight of his trapped testes satisfied Melanie immensely, but it was clear from the quickening sounds of his pumping that Fynn's self-abuse was building up to a crescendo, and this filled her with an inexplicable feeling of excitement.
“Oh FUCK yeah!” Fynn said, his deep voice once again giving in to his fantasies. “Fuck, I wish you were Melanie. God, she’s so damn hot! When did she turn into such a babe? Those legs, that ass, those beautiful BOOBS!! Aw fuck, I’d love to see her pretty lips wrapped around this huge cock of mine. I’d love to have her naked body pressed up against all of these big muscles, while I pumped her tight twat, make her cry out my name, and filled her cunt with my huge stud load!”
Melanie was so shocked by what she was hearing that she was literally frozen for several moments. But then a sudden flash of rage washed over her. How DARE he was such things about her! Melanie was overcome by an urge to hurt the arrogant stud above her, and her eyes immediately settled on his huge, pink, trapped bull nuts. She balled up her fist and pumped it upward with all of her might, her knuckles striking the dense but spongy orbs with a soft thud and flattening them wide across the wooden slats.
For a moment, the room was utterly still. Fynn’s violent pumping ceasing instantly, and neither of them moved. The silence seemed to stretch on for an eternity, though in reality it was less than a second.
Then everything suddenly happened all at once.
With a bellowing cry of surprise and pain, Fynn leapt from the bed as if a fire had be lit under him. He was almost instantly yanked abruptly short when his impossibly fat testicles refused to slip back through the narrow gap in the slats. Incredibly, the immensely heavy bed was jerked more than an inch off the floor, and the cords that connected Fynn's reproductive organs to his lean and muscular body tore at their anchorage and sent lightning bolts of searing pain through his guts.
“NNNGH-ZZZZT!!” cried Fynn, his guttural voice dropping to an even lower pitch. But instead of doing the sensible thing of dropping back to the bed, Fynn’s agony-consumed brain spurred him to try to put as much distance between himself and the sudden, unexpected pain as possible.
Melanie could barely believe her eyes as Fynn began to stagger forward. The immense bed had to weigh 500 or 600 pounds at least, yet the mighty athlete was actually pulling it forward by his balls alone! It was at the same time moronic and genuinely, astoundingly impressive, and Melanie couldn't help but be awed by the Herculean effort. Somehow, Fynn wrestled control of his powerful but shaking legs, and actually succeed in taking first one step, and then another, dragging the solid oak bed — as well as the rug and Melanie herself — behind him. The colossal muscles of the lad’s mighty thighs bunched and flexed and swelled as he took a third step, and then a fourth, and then a fifth, making agonizingly slow progress toward his bedroom door.
Though scared, Melanie couldn’t take her eyes off the bright red eggs. The unbelievable strain was clearly visible, as the massive balls swelled and quivered in their brutally overstretched sac. Their hairy pouch took on a gossamer thinness as it was stretched to the breaking point, and Melanie could make out every curve and vein and contour of the two gigantic bollocks contained within. It looked like those most mammoth of gonads were going to burst out of their sac at any moment, torn from their moorings by the devastating pulling and stretching.
Despite Fynn’s indomitable will and pig-headed determination, though, it was only a matter of seconds before he could no longer ignore the excruciating pain that came from lifting an oversized, oak-framed bed with only your nerve-packed nut cords. With an extraordinary show of strength and effort, the awesomely powerful young man took one more quivering step, closing half of the dozen feet between him and the door. Then, sensibility having finally caught up with him, Fynn was knocked immediately insensible.
Fynn’s mighty legs gave out from under him and he fell toward the floor, only to bungee ruinously on his already dangerously overstretched scrotum. The sudden stop folded him in the middle, and meant that Melanie was suddenly confronted by his upside-down sweat-soaked face. She held her breath and awaited his cry, but his heavy-lidded eyes were crossed and showed no trace of consciousness, let alone recognition. The inhuman agony in his nuts had once again rendered the huge teenaged bull unconscious.
As she studied him, still dreading him noticing her, Fynn let out a strangled mewl. His thick sausage, which now pointed down at the floor and seemed both larger and more terrifying than it had just a few minutes ago, gave a sudden jerk and started issuing forth a torrent of thick and steaming white goo. The first blast hit the stone floor and splattered noisily in all directions, and then was immediately followed by a second blast, and a third, and a fourth, and a fifth, each as huge and powerful and voluminous as the first.
Melanie was terrified, as she had no idea what was happening. What was this chunky white liquid? Why was it coming out of Fynn’s cock? Was he broken? Why was there so MUCH of it? And WHEN was it going to END?
More than dozen thick squirts of the substance had hit the floor, and Fynn showed no signs of letting up yet. Already, a huge puddle of the stuff had formed on the floor, more than a foot wide and rapidly expanding. Melanie had scooted backward so that she wouldn’t get hit by any of the liquid shrapnel, and then continued watching in fascination as an ungodly amount of the stuff continued to spew from Fynn’s shuddering and pulsating cock. She had the realization that this thick, molasses-like fluid must be coming from the young man’s huge balls, but she wondered how a set of testicles even as massive as Fynn’s could hold this much creamy splooge. And STILL the deluge raged onward!
After more than a score of huge and furious gushes of spunk, the flow of the pearlescent goo from Fynn’s mammoth cock finally began to slow and ebb, until just a thick trickle of stringy white fluid was burping and oozing out of the tip of his swollen cock. Whatever violent heaving and spitting Fynn’s cock had started doing, it was apparently over.
Feeling safe, Melanie inched closer again to better view the aftermath of the young man’s unbelievably powerful ejaculation. A vast puddle of the off-white goo now coated a large area of the floor. The stuff was even thicker than Melanie had first imagined, resembling a custard or tapioca pudding in consistency, and the lass began to wonder just how powerful the muscles were in Fynn’s huge cock to be able to jettison such a thick and chunky substance. The slowly cooling gloop appeared more solid than liquid!
Fynn’s massive cock began to slowly wilt, returning to its still huge but less intimidating summer sausage state. Its thick and pulsing veins sank back into the flesh of its long shaft, and the shining purple mushroom head softened and retreated slightly beneath its foreskin. It was all very interesting, but still nowhere near as intoxicating and erotic to her as the parts by which still he remained suspended.
Almost all of Fynn’s great weight now hung from the sac that contained his mighty man eggs. His gorgeous and muscular body swayed slowly from side to side, and there was an audible sound of creaking, the source of which Melanie couldn’t place. It was either coming from the straining wooden slats, or more disturbingly, from his impossibly stretched scrotum. Melanie’s eyes traced the horribly distended length of the handsome lad’s brutally stretched scrotum, and noted with astonishment that it was easily three times, if not FOUR times, as long as it had been at bath time.
Melanie knew that the ridiculously narrow and straining tube of flesh contained the all-important cords that connected Fynn’s balls to his body, as well as the blood vessels that sustained their life. She imagined taking a pair of scissors to the stretched flesh and putting the big athlete out of his misery for good. She knew just where Siobhan’s mom kept her scissors…
Just then, the bedroom door almost silently burst open, letting the light from the living room fireplace illuminate the scene. Melanie saw a figure silhouetted in the doorway, and for a brief instant feared that she’d been caught by Siobhan’s parents. But she quickly realized that the figure was her best friend, coming in to ‘rescue’ Melanie from her brother’s room.
Siobhan gasped as she quickly took in the scene. “What did you do to him?!” she demanded in a harsh whisper as Melanie wormed her way out from under the relocated bed, a blush of embarrassment on her lovely face.
“It was an accident, I swear!” she told her shocked friend, unsure of her reaction. “I had to hide in here until your parents were asleep, and then one thing led to another, and…” Her voice trailed off, as she turned and gestured to Siobhan’s clearly unconscious brother, bent double and nearly suspended above the floor by his heroically overstretched nuts.
Siobhan just stood there dumbfounded for several more long moments, her mouth hanging open. Then much to Melanie’s relief, Siobhan’s mouth slowly began to turn up at the corners and she quickly placed her hand over it in order to stifle her giggles.
“Oh, he had THAT coming!” Siobhan said, struggling to stifle her laughs. “Come on, we have to get back to my room before my parents wake up and catch us,” Siobhan said through her smile, not taking her eyes off of her tortured brother.
“What about Fynn?” asked Melanie, turning back to the slowly swaying stack of muscles next to her.
“What about him?” said Siobhan with a mischievous gleam in her blue eyes, turning to leave.
Melanie turned and gave Fynn’s scrotum one last, longing look. She wanted nothing more than to play with those huge orbs some more, squeezing and yanking and punching them, and seeing just how much of that thick, creamy batter they could cough up. She silently promised herself that she would see Fynn again, and soon. She then hurried after her friend, quietly closing the bedroom door behind her…
Unsurprisingly, Fynn failed to make an appearance at breakfast, but the two large hardboiled eggs that awaited him caused the two girls much amusement.
After breakfast, Siobhan’s mother shooed them back to the girl’s room so that she could go about the housework in peace. They were only allowed out when it was time for Melanie to be picked up by her mother.
She had her bag packed and was sat on the sofa with Siobhan and her mother, waiting her own mother’s arrival, when there came the first sounds of life emanating from Fynn’s bedroom. Miserable groans were followed by sharp, pained grunt and the sound of a heavy weight hitting the floor. Then it went silent once more.
“What is he UP to?” asked Siobhan’s mother with irritation. “He hasn’t moved all day, the lazy so-and-so.”
“I think he said something yesterday about rearranging his bedroom,” Siobhan said, all innocence, as Melanie struggled mightily to hold back her laughter.
Siobhan’s mother left out a huff and got up from her chair, storming over to Fynn’s door and furiously knocking on it.
“FYNN!” she snapped. “Get out here, young man! We have guests! Melanie will be leaving soon, and you can make yourself useful by carrying her bag to the car.”
Fynn’s muffled response was unintelligible.
“Do I have to come in there?” demanded his mother.
“NO!” came his immediate reply. The sound of his movements, however slow and labored, assured his mother and she returned to her seat.
“Men!” she said to the two girls, rolling her eyes in exasperation.
When Melanie’s mother pulled up outside and honked her horn, Siobhan threw her arms around her best friend and sniffled sadly.
“When am I going to see you again?” she said, pouting as she hugged her best friend.
“Soon, I hope!” Melanie replied. “I’ll ask my mom if I can sleep over again next week. Maybe I can even ask her if I can stay for an entire week or two! It’s summer, after all, so I’m on break from my classes at home. It would be nice to live with your family for a little while.”
“Really?!” Siobhan said, delight and excitement clearly evident on her pretty face. “Oh, I’d LOVE that!”
“So would I,” Melanie replied, secretly fantasizing about time that she could spend with Siobhan’s handsome and hunky brother, Fynn. There was a long summer ahead of them before Fynn left for college in the autumn, and Melanie would take every chance she could get to come over to Siobhan’s house.
“Fynn!” called his mother. “Get out here, lad!”
The door to his bedroom finally opened, and the big, muscular figure of Fynn slowly shuffled out. Both girls immediately noticed that he legs were spread awkwardly wide apart.
“It’s nice to see you wearing your kilt for a change, Fynn,” remarked his mother with approval. He grunted miserably. The girls knew exactly why he was wearing his kilt — freedom to swing. They looked at each other and once again struggled to hold back their titters of laughter.
Melanie imagined that, having spent the night and most of the day hanging from his tortured bull nuts, Fynn’s testicles would be dangling mere inches from the hem of the kilt. She was keen to see if she was right.
“Fynn, be a gentleman and carry Melanie’s bag out to the car,” his mother told him.
The muscular, brooding teenager scowled but didn’t say anything in response. Instead, he grudgingly shuffled over to Melanie. She held out her bag with a sweet smile on her face, but just as he was about to grab the handle from her hand, she pretended to accidentally drop it.
“Whoops!” she said.
Fynn’s scowl just deepened, and he continued to not meet either girls’ eyes. He widened his stance even further, grunted with obvious pain and exertion, and gradually lowered himself after the bag on bending knees. Melanie grabbed Siobhan’s hand and, after leading her around behind Fynn, silently urged her to join her in sneaking a look up her brother’s kilt. Siobhan’s mother had her back to the trio, already heading out the front door to greet Melanie’s mom. It was a perfect opportunity.
Melanie ducked down and could barely restrain her glee when Fynn’s huge man eggs came into view, bigger and redder than ever. Her quick bark of laughter caused Fynn to straighten up quickly and look back, angry and suspicious. Melanie quickly hid her smile and gave the handsome young man an innocent and expectant look. He grunted, quickly looking away again, and with bag in hand began his awkward waddle to the front door.
“Did you see them?” Melanie hissed with glee.
“No,” said Siobhan, distraught and disappointed.
Melanie looked back at Fynn as he staggered through across the room. Her eyes fell on his kilt once more and a devious grin spread across her face. Siobhan recognized it immediately.
“What are you thinking?” she asked excitedly.
“You’ll see,” Melanie told her, a malevolent smile spreading across her beautiful face.
The girls said their emotional goodbyes, and by the time they stepped outside, Fynn had made his way to the waiting car. He pulled open the back door and effortlessly tossed the heavy bag in. Melanie was no longer the least bit surprised about the teen titan’s extraordinary strength; after all, she’d watched him pull an immensely heavy bed with nothing more than his bull balls!
“Hello, Fynn,” said Melanie’s mother at her most pleasant. “You look smart in your kilt.”
“Thank you Missus Abernathy,” Fynn said in his trademark deep voice, not quite meeting Melanie’s mother’s eyes as he backed away to let Melanie get in the car.
“Thank you, Mrs. Montgomery, for letting me spend the night,” Melanie said to her host. “I hope I can come over to visit Siobhan again very soon. And Fynn, I enjoyed seeing so much of you on this visit,” she finished, all innocence, she leaned back out to take hold of the door and slam it shut.
Fynn failed to register the implied meaning of Melanie’s comment, being still completely unaware of her participation any of his accidents from the previous night. But the way she said it made him uncomfortable enough to want to make a quick exit. Seeing him turn to leave, Melanie told her mother, “Thank you, Mum, for letting me stay at Siobhan’s house. We can go home now.”
When Fynn tried to retreat back to the house, where he could nurse his horribly aching nuts, he was quite perturbed to discover he was somehow held back. He looked around and found to his horror that the loose corner of his kilt had become caught in the car door. Melanie was happily winding down her window as the car’s engine rumbled into life. The young man’s stunning blue eyes filled with dawning dread, and he whispered, “Oh no…” as the pretty young blonde grinned back at him.
“I guess I’m about to see a little bit more of you,” she quipped just before the car pulled away.
Fynn was twirled around violently as his kilt was ripped right off of his body, exposing his huge hanging sausage and the great swollen shapes of his massive and extraordinarily low-hanging bollocks. His quick spin caused all of his swinging beef to flap comically after him. When he sharply arrested his spin, his bright red nuts collided with his rock solid thigh, just an inch or two above his left knee, with impressive speed and force.
The handsome, dark-haired lad’s blue eyes crossed and his mouth gaped open as the brutal pain registered in his brain. His hands shot down to his injured orbs, and as huge as his beefy hands were, Melanie noted with pleasure that they were no longer large enough to completely cup his battered, bloated, and swollen gonads. She could see the gigantic muscles of his huge thighs start to quiver and his knees threaten to buckle, but impressively, Fynn somehow fought through the agony to remain standing. That was good, she thought, for she intended to inflict far worse punishments on those massive, meaty bollocks in the weeks to come.
Melanie kept her eyes on Fynn’s agonized form, the almighty stud crippled by pain and humiliation, until they drove out of sight.
“Did you have fun?” asked her mother, unaware that Melanie hand one hand down her trousers and was furiously working her fingers.
“Oh, yes, so much fun,” she answered, breathlessly. “And I can’t wait to go back!”