How to Break A Super Hero - Chapter 5E

Thanks to everyone who has submitted additional story ideas for how to abuse and torture Brick's big, beautiful, bountiful bull balls! I have three more chapters currently in the works based on your ideas, and am still open to getting more from you. :)

Also a quick heads up that my computer has to go to the Apple Store AGAIN this weekend for diagnostics. The damn thing keeps powering off suddenly and without warning, as much as 6 times a day. The Apple team has already looked at it twice since December and can't figure out the problem, so hopefully third try is a charm. Anyway, they'll have it for at least a week, so there's going to be a delay after today's post, but I'll get back on here as soon as I can.

In the meantime, please enjoy this next installment, which was inspired by no fewer than THREE reader comments, all of whom had a surprisingly similar story idea in mind. This chapter is a particularly brutal one, so buckle up and enjoy!



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How to break a Super Hero

Chapter 5E - Varied Tortures

The Turner Triplets

It was several months into the semester, far longer than even Doc Evil would have thought possible, before Brick’s heroic manhood was finally pushed too far and a torture session ended in tragedy. This sad event occurred during the unforgettable torture session involving the Turner Triplets. 

The Turner Triplets were a set of identical triplet young men named Scott, Hank, and Dan Turner. The three men appeared wholly unremarkable at first glance, other than the fact that they looked like a trio of gorgeous fitness models. Doc Evil always thought it a cruel joke of nature when a set of identical twins were ugly or unattractive, but happily the absolute opposite was true for the Turner Triplets. The three young men were stunningly handsome, their gorgeous faces set off with soulful brown eyes and thick, jet black hair. Each stood exactly six feet tall, and possessed an exquisitely muscular build set in a magical medium between that of a swimmer and that of a gymnast. It was no wonder that the stunning trio of brothers enjoyed an extremely successful career as male models, with faces and figures that were perfect for both fashion and fitness photos. 

What the world at large didn’t realize, however, was that these three handsome brothers shared the same mutant gift — they could reduce their size at will! Each of the boys could shrink from their normal size down to microscopic levels, smaller than the human eye could see, all while maintaining their studly proportions. This ability allowed the mischievous triplets to play cruel pranks on unsuspecting teachers and classmates in school, pranks that over time had resulted in numerous injuries and several fatalities. The trio grew up to be the perfect spies and assassins, for there was no security system they could not breach, no place a target could hide, nowhere that the Turner Triplets could not infiltrate. 

Doc Evil had discovered the three handsome lads during one of their many hijinks during Fashion Week in Milan, and recruited them to his team of evil villains. He had created special suits for each of the three young men, biosuits that shrank along with their bodies and allowed them to survive in environments that were otherwise inimical to the human body. 

When the Turner Triplets got their turn with the bound muscle giant Brick Haus, it was a foregone conclusion that they would tag team together to torture and brutalize the handsome hunk. 

As some of the handsomest men in the world, Scott, Hank, and Dan Turner had rarely, if ever, felt the emotion called jealousy. Who could they possibly feel jealous of? They were stunningly handsome, gorgeously built, fabulously rich and successful, and able to bed any woman that they wanted! But from the moment the triplets laid their eyes on the titanic titan of muscles that was Brick Haus, they felt positively inadequate in comparison. It wasn’t just that the young man’s colossal musculature dwarfed theirs, though it was true that Brick’s 485 pounds of pure muscle very nearly equalled the combined weight of the three handsome models. It wasn’t just that Brick was hung bigger than any other man in history, making even the triplet’s 12-inch-long mega cocks look tiny in comparison. No, the greatest source of jealousy for the Turner boys was that Brick Haus was even more stunningly and fantastically handsome than they were! The brown-haired muscle beast had the most exquisitely chiseled features that the triplets had ever seen, so overwhelmingly masculine as to border on the ridiculous, yet somehow utterly perfect. It was the jealousy sparked by Brick Haus’ own intensely masculine beauty that fed the triplet’s desire to cause extreme pain and harm to the handsome young muscle bull…and to secretly plot the demise of the young man’s obscenely oversized genitalia.  

At their appointed hour, the stunningly handsome triplets sauntered down the auditorium stairs to stand before their hated foe, who was bound helpless before them like some impossibly meaty Thanksgiving feast. The three young men looked especially dashing in their form-fitting biosuits, which showed off their lean muscles to great effect. The arrogant lads high-fived one another and then took up their positions around the stud, Scott and Hank next to the emission collection devise, and Dan sitting on the edge of the table near Brick’s left hip. Then, at an unspoken signal, the trio began to shrink down in size, rapidly growing so tiny that they nearly disappeared from sight. 

Scott and Hank clambered up the collection container and entered a hatch on its side, working their way into the machine’s inner plumbing. They were lost to sight for several long moments, but then suddenly reappeared within the clear plastic suction tube itself, two half-inch-tall grinning figures that quickly jogged up the length of the tube, heading directly for Brick’s gaping wide cum hole. 

Meanwhile, a tiny Dan had scrambled beneath the gap between Brick’s bulbous left ass cheek and his enormously muscular thigh, heading toward the deep crevasse between Brick’s titanically beefy butt cheeks. Dan had shrunk down to such a small size that he was able to squeeze his way past the muscular pucker of Brick’s shit chute, and start working his way up the young man’s colon. 

At about the same time, Scott and Hank had reached the summit of the suction tube and the entry to the long, cavernous channel of Brick’s urethra. With another shared smile between the two brothers, they leapt off from the precipice and began sluicing their way down the entire length of Brick’s 22.5-inch monster cock like some sort of meaty water slide, using the stud’s endless and copious supply of slick precum to grease their way. 

Doc Evil, being the diabolical genius that he was, had planned ahead for this particular encounter and seeded the interior of Brick’s sexual plumbing with hundreds of microscopic nano cameras. He was therefore able to record and televise the triplet’s journey in real time to a rapt audience of super villains. 

Dan was seen reaching his intended destination first, which was Brick’s gargantuan and oversized prostate gland. This enormous gland was positively bloated with seminal fluids, and visibly pulsed with raw male power. A wickedly grinning Dan could be seen preparing some sort of high powered rifle, the kind of dart gun that was usually used on wildlife programs to tranquilize elephants or tag great white sharks, only even bigger. 

Doc Evil had supplied Dan with a special anti-orgasmic serum that was guaranteed to paralyze and disable the deep internal muscles and structures responsible for a man’s orgasm. Dan had secretly upped the dose that the mad scientist had supplied him by a factor of 100, wanting to make absolutely sure that the mighty Brick would be unable to shoot his load, no matter what tortures he would suffer next. Heck, for all Dan knew, such an extreme dose of the anti-orgasm serum might permanently end the super stud’s ability to cream, so that even though his titanic testes might still be attached and intact, he would effectively be rendered a eunuch! Dan didn’t care in the slightest, however, and in fact WANTED to put a permanent end to the muscle man’s ridiculously outsized virility, regardless of the Doc’s admonition to cause the hulking titan no lasting harm. 

Dan loaded a huge syringe of the pale golden serum into the rifle, and with an evil smile on his handsome face, plunged the rifle’s special bayonet to the hilt into Brick’s bloated prostate and depressed the trigger, injecting the entire quantity of the super condensed serum into the young bull’s defenseless prostate. 

Young Brick could feel the sharp sting of the needle as it plunged into his tender sex gland, causing him to cry out in surprise and pain. But it was the fiery burn of the special serum that really caused the young muscle giant to squirm and writhe. The deepest depths of his manly plumbing fell like they were on fire, with the burning warmth quickly spreading outward from his prostate gland to permeate the young man’s luscious loins. The burning fire soon faded, leaving behind an almost soothing warmth, and a heavy, leaden feeling. Brick was still able to pulse and flex his gargantuan horse cock, but his heavy loins were now paralyzed and unable to move the vast storehouse of seminal fluids constantly building up in his massive balls. 

When the remaining two triplets reached the base of Brick’s behemoth bull cock hidden deep within the young man’s crotch, they finally parted ways, with Scott following the huge stud’s thick seminal tube to the right, with Hank taking the path to the left. Both men had to shrink even further to make it through the smaller tubules, for even though the young man’s sperm ducts were several times larger than those on a normal man, it was still a tight fit for the diminutive brothers. By the time Dan was injecting Brick’s prostate with his special anti-orgasm serum, his two brothers had reached their destinations — deep inside the very heart of Brick’s gargantuan bollocks! 

The brothers had been toying for many weeks over what they would do once they had made their way into the impossibly beefy depths of Brick’s huge bull balls. Dan had eagerly voted for severing the vas deferens of both balls from the inside, performing an internal vasectomy that would render the huge hunk impotent and trapping all of his awesomely potent sperm inside of his aching balls. The isolated balls could then be stimulated from the inside, causing the huge orbs to manufacture more and more of the thick and chunky ‘nad juice, but destined to never release their pent up load. 

Hank had had an even more devious idea — instead of just severing the two sperm ducts, he wanted to splice them across to the opposite bollocks, reconfiguring the muscle man’s internal plumbing. That way, every time the huge muscle stud came, he would be shooting his monster load from one humongous nut to the other, each gigantic ball simply flooding the other with its thick and copious juices without a single drop escaping out the young man’s titanic tower of a cock. Over time, the quantity of unspent jizz in Brick’s balls would grow and grow with each epic orgasm, causing his mighty bollocks to swell larger still and creating the most intense feeling of blue balls imaginable. The compounding pressure would eventually reach critical levels, with Brick’s behemoth balls bloating and swelling until they could no longer take the strain, and exploding in a magnificent shower of broken ball meat and raw sperm! 

But in the end, the three brothers settled on Scott’s idea, judging it to be the most wicked, devious, and cruel of them all! 

Hank and Scott started using spiked gloves, cleated boots, vibrating blades, laser cutters, and powerful electric cattle prods to beat, slice, shock, shred, and mangle the dense and meaty interiors of Brick’s huge balls. The young super hero felt excruciating, mind-numbing pain as the very centers of his heroic manhood were being scrambled from within. Scott focused most of his attention on attacking the thick nerve bundles within Brick’s right ball, using his cattle prod to send bolts of electric agony through the unbelievably dense orb, as well as his heavily spiked gloves to tear and shred those tough nerve fibers to pieces. Hank, always the most violent of the trio, instead liked to focus on using his blades and laser cutter to slice and sever the sperm-producing tubules themselves, cutting through them by the hundreds and watching the raw sperm ooze from their severed ends. Soon, both young men were unleashing an orgy of destruction on the very tissues that made Brick a man, mashing, ripping, and tearing his delicate testicular tissues apart. Despite the young bull’s extraordinary powers of healing, even big Brick couldn’t keep up with the steady liquification and destruction of the thick and beefy guts of his enormous testicles. Slowly but surely, Brick’s mighty nards were being whisked into a pureed mess of mangled tubules and chunky spunk! 

At the same time, Dan was being anything but idle. With Brick’s cum-pumping muscles totally paralyzed — temporarily or permanently no longer seemed to matter, not with the imminent shredding and annihilation of the hated super hero’s gigantic balls — the dark-haired anal invader used his own set of cattle prods to shock and zap Brick’s swollen prostate, painfully stimulating the young muscle bull to a release that his body was no longer capable of shooting. All of this brutal attention to his sex gland sent Brick’s sperm production into overdrive. The various microscopic cameras inside Brick’s balls showed the dense spaghetti-like tubules starting to swell and bloat with more and more sperm, his huge nuts backing up and bulking up with a truly monstrous supply of unshot spunk. 

It wasn’t long at all before Brick’s balls began to visibly swell with their ever-growing load of heavy man milk, bloating bigger and bigger and bigger still with his supremely potent sperm. Even the continued methodical and systematic cutting and shredding of Brick’s incredibly tough and dense ball meat couldn’t seem to slow down the astronomical rate of sperm production, as even the mangled and severed tissues somehow continued to pump out more and more fresh sperm cells, heedless of the fact that the interior pressures within both of those straining orbs were starting to reach critical levels. 

Brick’s behemoth bollocks had soon doubled in size, looking like a pair of overinflated basketballs, straining against their overstretched scrotum and looking like they could explode at any moment. The grainy texture of their heroically straining ball walls could be clearly seen through the thin scrotal skin, and every bump and vein on their globular surfaces was standing out in sharp relief. The insane congestion of his mighty balls, combined with the continued slicing and shredding of their meaty interiors, was causing Brick the most searing agony imaginable. 

And that’s when Scott signaled his brothers to put his cruel and wicked plan into action. 

On the dozens of different TV screens scattered throughout the auditorium, the hundreds of villains watched in rapt fascination as both Scott and his brother Hank began to simultaneously grow in size. Slowly at first, and then faster and faster, the two young men began to expand, their biosuited bodies soon pressing up against the already cum-swollen tissues of Brick’s beef-packed balls. Nothing could be seen at first from the outside, for Brick’s balls were already so gigantic that the two tiny but growing figures buried deep inside of them made no visible difference to their titanic size. The two brothers expanded to an inch in height, then 2 inches, and then 3 inches, all without a visible change to the exterior of those two mighty nuts. But soon Brick’s beautiful blue eyes flew open even wider, and his screams and bellows of agony took on an even greater urgency. And that’s when the villains crowded throughout the room could start seeing the changes for themselves. 

Brick’s balls visibly started swelling, growing even larger and fatter as the two brothers expanded bigger and taller. The interior cameras showed the young man’s already heavily damaged testicular tissues straining and bulging and eventually shredding as their beefy centers were forced to accommodate their ever growing invaders. The oblong spherical shapes of those twin testes soon began to distort as Scott and Hank surpassed 6 inches in height, their strong limbs pressing outward and causing the tough and fibrous outer walls of Brick’s balls to stretch and strain even more in a valiant attempt to maintain their structural integrity. 

Dan, meanwhile, was pouring a continuous barrage of high-voltage electricity directly into Brick’s bruised and bloated prostate, sending the young bull into spiraling heights of agonizing orgasmic ecstasy. The extraordinary pleasure of his unachievable orgasm mixed with the unreal and inhuman agony erupting inside of his splitting and shredding nuts was sending Brick to levels of sublime sensation unlike anything the huge muscle boy had experienced before. 

And still Scott and Hank kept on growing, soon reaching 7 inches tall, and then 8 inches tall, causing Brick’s insanely bloated balls to swell bigger still! It was starting to look like the young muscle giant was pregnant with twins, except that instead of his heroically muscular belly, it appeared like he was growing his two babies within the tortured womb of his own failing nuts! The two brothers grew to 9 inches tall!! Then 10 inches!! Brick’s balls were swelling well past all conceivable limits, even for his extraordinarily mighty man orbs! How much more of this horrible and inhumane abuse could they possibly take!?! 

The shapes of the two men growing inside of Brick’s balls were becoming readily visible from the outside — a foot here, an elbow there, a knee, a hand, a head. Even more disturbing was the fact that both figures could be seen moving within Brick’s behemoth balls, kicking and punching in an attempt to violently rearrange the almost impossibly beefy interiors of those two most massive spheres of man flesh. It looked like the stud’s ultra toughened ball walls were going to burst any moment, giving violent birth to his two full-grown sons! And STILL they grew larger still!! 11 inches!!! Scott and Hank were nearly the size and mass of full-term babies now, ripping apart the very meat of Brick’s gigantic bollocks in a furious effort to be ‘born’!!! 12 inches tall!!!!! Brick’s mighty bull balls were about to pop!!!!!

Dan was grinning wickedly as he continued to unleash his intense electric assault on Brick’s brutalized prostate. He had his own video feed of the events occurring inside the super hero’s nearly bursting balls, and he knew that any second now, Brick’s fabled bollocks would be but a memory. Even if his brothers stopped their growth right now, Dan had little doubt that Brick’s magnificent and utterly mammoth bull balls had already been torn and shredded and mortally wounded beyond all hope of repair, reduced to a mangled and tangled mass of ruined ball meat. But he knew that his two other brothers wouldn’t stop until Brick’s twin sperm tanks exploded in a mighty convulsion of unspeakable gore! Brick’s colossal cajones had already surpassed THREE TIMES their normal size, looking like a pair of hideously misshapen beach balls, and he knew that they simply couldn’t swell any further without bursting! The time had come to bid Brick Haus’ raw masculine power and virility adieu. 

Dan was so engrossed in the stud’s impending nut explosion that he didn’t immediately notice the changes that were taking place inside the depths of Brick’s tortured plumbing. The powerful muscles surrounding Brick’s swollen prostate began to quiver, shivering spasmodically as they miraculously began to shake off the effects of the paralyzing serum. When Dan did start noticing this change, he couldn’t at first believe his eyes, for it should have been impossible for the young muscle beast to start recovering from the serum so soon, if at all. The mega dose of anti-orgasmic serum that Dan had injected into Brick’s gigantic prostate should have been enough to paralyze his ejaculatory muscles and tissues for a week at least, maybe even permanently, but here the mighty bull was, less than half an hour later, already starting to shake off the chemically-induced paralysis! It was simply unbelievable!! 

A frantic Dan started shouting a panicked warning to his two brothers through their biosuits’ communication systems, yelling at them and telling them that they needed to get out of Brick’s swelling nuts immediately. At the same time, the desperate Dan took his rifle and injected a second, even larger dose of the anti-orgasm serum into Brick’s quivering prostate, hoping to stave off Brick’s impending orgasm. But the serum had no visible effect this time, as Brick’s mounting, Herculean orgasm would not be denied. 

Scott and Hank didn’t seem to comprehend Dan’s shouted warnings at first, so intent were they on gleefully wrecking Brick’s mighty nuts from the inside out. They couldn’t conceive that they could be in any danger — vast swaths of Brick’s ball meat had already been sliced and cut to pieces by the brothers’ wicked weapons, and more and more of the remaining tissues were shredding and tearing apart as the boys grew larger and larger, rending the stud’s dense nut meat from the inside. How could they possibly be in any danger? Brick’s hideously bloated nuts were on the very verge of exploding! But then they, too, started seeing the sperm-swollen tissues of the balls themselves start to clutch and convulse, and they knew that Dan was right — big Brick was about to nut! 

All three brothers realized that the quivering in Brick’s loins indicated that he was about to experience a volcanic and explosive release unlike anything that had been seen previously. Scott and Hank immediately tried to quicken their growth, hoping to reach full size and burst out of Brick’s battered, failing, and dying bull testicles before the young stud reached orgasm. But, sadly for them, it was already too late. 

Brick uttered his most powerful bellow yet, a thunderous roar of pure animal agony that reverberated throughout the huge auditorium and actually caused the glass windows at the back of the chamber to rattle in their steel frames. At that same moment, every last muscle in his epically powerful groin clenched down at full might as he hit his much-delayed orgasm. Scott’s and Hank’s screams of terror and agony were mercifully brief at their 12-inch-tall forms were almost instantly slain, Brick’s beefy, behemoth bull balls convulsing so ferociously hard that the two brothers were utterly crushed in moments. 

An instant later, the first monumental gush of spunk sprayed out of Brick’s pulsating horse cock into the waiting suction tube. It was the biggest, most insanely lush gout of smegma that the young man had ever shot, speaking to the impossibly vast reservoir of spunk that had built up in the young man’s screaming balls. However, the normally blindingly white splooge was streaked with a disturbing amount of red blood, and Doc Evil and the other villains thought at first that this blood was a sign of the terrific internal injuries that had been suffered by Brick’s beleaguered and probably ruined balls. But the following extraordinarily thick pulses of cum soon showed that assumption to be false, for visible inside the suction tube and collection tank were solid chunks that were quickly revealed to be the dismembered, shredded, and disintegrated remains of Scott and Hank Turner! The mighty contraction of Brick’s nuts had instantly crushed the two mutant men, and the ferocious power of the subsequent spunk deluge had ripped their bodies apart to be shot out in the young man’s insanely copious ejaculate, flushing their broken bodies right out of Brick’s heaving nuts! 

Dan’s screams of terror, loss, and bitter fury echoed from every TV speaker in the auditorium. The young man had just witnessed the hideous death of his two beloved identical triplets, and he desperately wanted vengeance against the mighty muscle man responsible for their deaths. He took his own laser cutter and began to try to slice into Brick’s shuddering prostate, hoping to destroy the young man’s sex gland and rob him of any future orgasms. The laser could barely scratch the surface of the bloated and puffy gland, however, the toughened outer wall of the big organ resisting even the searing and cutting heat of the laser drill. Dan’s vibrating blades and spiked gauntlets likewise found very little purchase against that toughened exterior. At the same time, the muscular walls of Brick’s rectum started to flex and convulse harder and harder still as they steadily overcame the remaining side effects of both anti-orgasm injections, and Dan suddenly realized that he needed to escape as well or face the very real possibility of being crushed to death inside the super hero’s hunky body! 

The last surviving Turner Triplet scrambled for the exit, fury turning to terror as he screamed for help. The muscular walls of Brick’s colon kept hammering at him, squeezing downward with such force that, if it were not for his biosuit, he would have been quickly crushed to death. The diminutive Dan reached Brick’s muscular sphincter and began trying to worm his way out, squeezing against the super tight ring of muscle in a desperate, last ditch effort to escape. 

Dan was very nearly free, the upper half of his 2-inch-tall body already protruding from Brick’s beefy butt hole, when the greatest convulsion yet rocked Brick’s entire body. Every last phenomenally bloated muscle on the young man’s gorgeous form flexed into stunning, shredded, diamond-like relief as the biggest wad yet exploded out of his thunderously pulsating penis. At that same moment, Brick’s monumental ass reflexively tensed with super human strength and power. Dan’s strangled cry was almost instantly choked off as his lean, muscular body was cut in two, crushed by the unbelievably tight ring of Brick’s muscular anus. 

The hundreds of villains in the room were shocked into a stunned silence after witnessing the violent and sudden deaths of three of their own. The only sounds in the room were Brick’s own labored grunts and groans, the whirring and chugging of the relentless suction machine, and the heavy SPLAT-SPLAT-SPLAT of the stud’s gargantuan cum load as it splashed into the waiting container. 

Even after blasting out the dismembered chunks of his two testicular invaders, it was several long minutes before the sperm-bloated bulk of Brick’s cum-laden bull nuts finally began to subside, beginning to ratchet down from their extraordinary beach ball size. And it was several  minutes more before they returned to a size approaching normal, such was the unreal volume of stud seed that had built up inside their beefy interiors. In the meantime, the 5-liter container continued filling closer and closer to the top, with no end of Brick’s monumental orgasm in sight. Every villain in the room, Doc Evil included, seemed paralyzed in place, and thus no one stepped forward to turn off the suction machine or change the canister, so mesmerized were they by the stunning sights before them.  

The 5-liter canister was soon filled to capacity, yet Brick’s humongous deluge of stud splooge continued unabated. The thick plastic hose leading from his monstrous 22.5-inch whale cock began to expand under the increasing pressure, filling with more and more of the young man’s precious man milk. The joints and seams on the suction machine itself began to crack, and thick jets of chunky sperm began to shoot out in all directions, striking surprised students as far back as the sixth row. The machine was being redlined by the sheer unprecedented SIZE of Brick’s utterly monstrous load! 

With a final shudder and loud cracking POP, the plastic tubing finally burst asunder, spilling a huge gushing gout of thick stud spunk all over the auditorium floor. And STILL Brick kept on cumming for more than a minute more, pumping out the dregs of his utterly colossal load through the shattered end of the broken tubing, spilling massive volumes of his sticky seed all over the auditorium floor. 

All told, Brick had just shot out over 6 LITERS of sperm, breaking his previous record by more than a full liter!! But the cost of this spectacular load had been much, much too high. 

Doc Evil immediately ordered all of the student villains out of the room. There was a great deal of hesitation at first, but he repeated his order with more vehemence, and that got the students moving. There was much grumbling and stares of pure hatred directed at the helplessly bound muscle beast, but in less than a minute, the last of the angry student villains had exited the room. 

Doc Evil had rightfully feared that the students would have turned into a vengeful mob if he’d let them stay. Never mind that the handsome young super hero had done nothing intentional to kill the Turner Triplets, or that it was the trio’s own hubris and lack of caution and respect for the mighty super hero’s power that had gotten them all killed. There was no doubt about it — the other students would now be out for blood. Doc Evil knew that he would have to closely monitor the torture sessions for the next days and weeks to prevent any of the other students from taking out their anger and loss by destroying the handsome hero’s prized manhood beyond repair. 

As it was, the doctor was gravely concerned for the immediate health and safety of the bull-hung hero. He quickly accessed his computer data, which had monitored the status and structural integrity of Brick’s nuts throughout their recent encounter with the triplets. The scientist’s heart nearly stopped for a moment when he saw that the structural integrity of Brick’s ball walls had nearly reached 0% by the time he’d finally reached orgasm. If the tortures had continued even a few moments longer, or Scott and Hank had let themselves grow any bigger, then Brick’s titanic testicles would have surely burst asunder like a pair of overripe fruit, destroying them utterly! It had been a very close call indeed, perhaps Brick’s closest brush yet with total emasculation!! 

Of more immediate concern was the status of Brick’s nearly shredded and horribly mangled balls. Doc Evil had been watching his readouts with growing concern throughout the torture session, for the triplets had attacked Brick’s manhood with a ferocity and violence unlike anything the young bull had faced before. Scott and Hank in particular had been laying terrible waste to the thick beef of Brick’s huge balls, slicing as much of that delicate meat to pieces as they could before starting the cruel but ingenious idea of expanding their size while still lodged within those gravely wounded and weakened nuts. The combination had very nearly ruptured Brick’s mighty balls, but Doc Evil still feared that the horrific trauma unleashed upon their dense interiors would be permanent. 

Not for the first time, Doc Evil was soon able to breathe a huge sigh of relief, for even in the few minutes since the students had left the room, Brick’s behemoth balls had already healed the worst of the damage done to them by the Turner Triplets. As the doctor watched in endless fascination, he could see the remaining damage repair itself before his very eyes, severed tubules reconnecting without the least evidence of scarring, ripped tissues stitching seamlessly back together, and cracks and near ruptures in the dense and fibrous outer walls mending even stronger than before. 

Brick had survived the greatest threat yet to his magnificent manhood. But with the deaths of three powerful villains now on his hands, could he hope to survive the increased fury of a student class that now sought vengeance? The torture sessions were about to get personal, and Brick was going to have to rely on every ounce of his fabled strength and resilience to continue to remain intact. 

Doc Evil instructed his minions to clean up the spermy mess and repair the broken extraction machine. He also instructed his assistants to strain the broken remains of Scott and Hank Turner from the collection tank, and place their bodies with the two halves of the brother Dan in cold storage. Doc Evil intended on extracting the triplet’s DNA for purposes of seeing if he could somehow genetically transfer their mutant gifts to another. He was disappointed that the Turner Triplets had died — not because he felt any great love for the three wicked and mischievous young men, but because they represented a loss of a valuable asset. But if he could salvage their mutant DNA from their broken corpses, well, that was just the Doc’s way of turning lemons into lemonade! 

The Fun House - The Red Door - Part 3

What now? 

 ___ - Perforate his humungous left nut!

 ___ - Skewer his titanic right nut! 

 ___ - Slice those mighty man nuts off of his body! 

 _X_ - Keep on threatening his big, beefy bull nuts some more with the deadly knife. 

THREATEN HIS NUTS SOME MORE

You decide to keep on taunting your handsome German stud, this time with a swift castration. You line up the knife to the base of Markus’ massive sac and raise your arm into the air.

WHOOSH!

The blade sails toward the massive target in a blur. Markus emits a deep grunt, his whole spectacularly muscular body flexing as he braces himself for his imminent emasculation. You stop the blade just short of slicing through the stud’s thick, banded scrotum. You had wanted to make sure your aim was spot on, and it was. Had you followed through with the motion, his big and supremely bountiful nuts would have been severed clean off at the base. Perfect! 

You raise your arm back and send the knife toward the target again. 

And again. 

And again. 

Markus is going wild with eager anticipation, and his mighty cock oozes out a thick loads of clear semen like a fountain.

You decide you’ve had enough fun taunting him and, with one final swing, you bring the blade downward in a graceful, deadly arc, directly toward his bundled and defenseless mega nuts. 

CLANG! 

“Oh mein Gott!” Markus shouts, his beautiful blue eyes all but bugging out as he looks down at his magnificent balls, waiting for the searing pain of his castration to register in his lust-addled brain. But to the hairy stud’s surprise, he finds both of his behemoth bull balls resting heavily on the table, and still attached to his gorgeous body. 

Markus’ wide eyes meet yours, and you give him your best evil grin. A similar grin spreads across his unbearably handsome features as he realizes that you are continuing to toy with him. You had purposely missed his tightly bound scrotum, and had instead brought the deadly blade down hard against the surface of the metal table, missing the stud’s nutsac by mere millimeters. At the last moment, you had decided that you didn’t want to destroy such a magnificent pair of boy balls too quickly, and instead wanted to drag out Markus’ nut destruction as long as possible. 

Is it time to end this stud’s manhood forever? 

 ___ - Stab his bloated left nut!

 ___ - Spear his bulging right nut! 

 ___ - Sever those mighty gonads! 

 ___ - Put the blade down and pick up the hammer. 

 ___ - Put the blade down and pick up the bomb. 

The Fun House - The Red Door - Part 2

What’s next for young Markus? 

 ___ - Stab his left nut!

 ___ - Stab his right nut! 

 ___ - See if you can castrate him in one slice! 

 _X_ - Threaten his big, beefy bull nuts some more, but don’t cut them yet. 

THREATEN HIS HUGE STONES

You continue running the deadly blade back and forth over both of Markus’ huge, trapped balls, taking care to not actually cut the delicate skin of his scrotum. You notice the man’s huge German sausage lurch and throb even harder as the cold blade presses against his skin. When you place the blade beneath the banded section of his crimped nut sac, pretending like you’re going to castrate the big bull in one upward slice, an extra thick gout of clear splooge belches out of the man’s bound meat. The slick and slimy effluent oozes down the length of that monstrous shaft and runs down over both huge balls, shellacking them like a pair of huge glazed candies. 

Clearly Markus is eager to have you destroy his massive and magnificent bollocks! 

“Please! More! Cut me!” Markus grunts between deep moans of pleasure. 

Part of you wants to spare these gorgeous balls for more tortures, but another part of you wants to feel the sharp blade plunge through one of his incredibly massive orbs. Light gleams from the sharp point of the knife as you hold it up for inspection, the tip being so sharp it’s almost impossible for you to focus on it. Markus is also admiring the blade and his eyes dart back and forth between the knife, your eyes, and his own balls.

“What do you have planned for me?” he asks breathlessly.

You wink as you lower the blade toward his mounding nuts, and stop the tip of the blade just short of his gargantuan left nut. Markus’ breathing is rapid but controlled, and his cock is leaking precum like a faucet, totally matting his furry, cobblestone-muscled belly as his huge dong rages. You playfully run the flat surface of the blade over his doomed left nut and several times flick your wrist as if you are going to cut into it like a ripe melon, but stop just short.

“Please! Please!!”

His entire husky frame is shaking in anticipation but, to your amazement, he isn’t asking you to ‘please stop.’ His wide grin and eager expression are instead telling you that he is begging you to ‘please continue!’ 

You carry on teasing the destruction of his big left nut for several minutes, savoring how vulnerable the big furry globe is to the blade, and stop to hold the knife in the air to inspect the tip again…before you immediately plunge it full force toward his left nut!

Your arm swings down so fast that Markus’ gaze can barely keep up. The insanely sharp knife strikes the table top so hard that your entire arm quivers with the impact. Markus bellows out a half grunt, half roar as his titanic horse cock belches out its biggest slug of precum yet, blasting upward between his magnificent pecs and painting a thick and gloopy wet line all over that stunning and hairy cleavage. 

You could have effortlessly skewered the gigantic nut on this handsome European bull, slicing through the unusually tough nut like a hot knife through butter, but you’ve decided to spare his mammoth orb…for now. 

Markus is panting with lust and anticipation, and he grins at you again as he flexes his magnificent muscles — including that thick slab of beef protruding from his loins and taped to his belly — and wiggles his muscular hips as much as his bindings will allow. This ridiculously handsome and hunky man is definitely eager to have his bollocks mangled by you! This is one sick, hot fucker! 

What now? 

 ___ - Perforate his humungous left nut!

 ___ - Skewer his titanic right nut! 

 ___ - Slice those mighty man nuts off of his body! 

 ___ - Keep on threatening his big, beefy bull nuts some more with the deadly knife. 

The Fun House - The Red Door - Part 1

For those of you who selected the knife in the first introductory chapter, you are correct! :)

********

THE SHARP KNIFE

Your hand settles over the knife handle, and you make eye contact with Markus as you reach for it. The gorgeous German stud grins widely as you lift the ridiculously sharp looking, long-handled blade from the table. 

“Excellent choice!” Markus says in a deep and husky voice. “I sharpened it myself.”

You lift the knife and admire its intricately styled blade, and are especially turned on by its sharp, piercing tip. You hover a finger over the cutting edge and wince as you feel a sharp sting. Although you barely made contact with the knife, an extremely fine cut is now dripping a small amount of blood from your finger. Man this knife is sharp! You press your cut finger against your jeans for a moment to temper the bleeding before turning your attention back to Markus’ big, sweating balls. 

You hold the knife in one hand while you reach out for his balls with the other, scooping your hand underneath the gigantic ball bag. The muscle man’s nuts are so huge that you would normally barely be able to cup even one massive gonad in your hand, but the thick rubber band wrapped so tightly around the base of those huge spuds allows you to lift both big balls off the table at the same time. An almost electric current seems to jolt through your body as you touch Markus’ spectacular bollocks for the first time, and you can’t help but be stunned by their incredible heft and sheer, eye-popping size. The young man’s wunderballs are even heavier than you had imagined, and you guess that there must be something close to 10 POUNDS of ball meat swinging between this handsome stud’s massively muscular legs! Incredible!! 

With your fingers clutching as much of that impossibly thick nut meat at they can, you give the bloated right ball a squeeze and marvel at how dense and solid it feels. The massive sphere yields only slightly at your squeezing, but elicits a deep moan of pleasure from the hunky German stud. You temporarily place the knife on the table next to the huge bull nuts, freeing both hands to inspect the two massive mounds of meat that you’re preparing to butcher. You simply cannot believe the gargantuan size of Markus’ mighty balls, and you spend many long minutes just reveling in groping the huge and hairy stones in your hand, feeling them literally pulse with the stud’s aching need. 

After nearly 10 full minutes of detailed inspection, you finally let his balls go, letting them plop heavily back onto the table like two huge mounds of roast beef ready to be sliced. You place the flat of the super sharp blade against the surface of the lad’s fat left nut. Markus winces as he feels the cold and deadly steel press against his bloated bull nut, but he doesn’t lose his handsome smile. 

Not wanting the fun to be over too quickly, you slowly move the blade toward his right nut and press the flat of the blade home again, this time eliciting a deep groan of pleasure from the big man. Teasing the huge German bull, you run the flat edge of the blade precariously over his fuzzy nut sac again and again as you contemplate what to do next. You could plunge the knife straight through an oversized bollock like a pincushion, or you could even castrate the handsome hunk with one fell swoop of the deadly blade. Or perhaps you want to make the stunning young man’s emasculation take a bit longer… 

What’s next for young Markus? 

 ___ - Stab his left nut!

 ___ - Stab his right nut! 

 ___ - See if you can castrate him in one slice! 

 ___ - Threaten his big, beefy bull nuts some more, but don’t cut them yet. 

The Fun House - The Red Door - Introduction

Hello readers, and Happy New Year!

For once, I'm actually writing and posting this message in real time. I had last loaded stories to my blog way back in March of 2016, and that long list of posts and stories finally ran out at the end of December. So now I need to start uploading again, and this time will start doing it in real time, at least for now.

As another departure, I'm going to start off the year with a twist. The incredible author Sack Stomper (if you haven't already, then PLEASE check out his blog at http://crackednutsballbusting.blogspot.com/ -- I'm SUCH a huge fan of his work!) came up with the utterly brilliant idea of creating an erotic, ball-busting "choose your own adventure" (COYA) type of story. He created a web story where you could pick various ways to torture and abuse a guy's meaty nuts, and decide whether you want to let him survive intact to suffer again another day, or redline his bollocks into oblivion, all by clicking on a selection of links at the end of each chapter. It was instant boner material for me, and I went through each scenario multiple times, working out each way that I could maul and mangle a stud's hanging man eggs.

I have adapted one of Sack Stomper's COYA stories, and will post it here chapter by chapter. I would love to hear from each of you what YOU would like done to the stud at the end of each chapter...but I will admit up front that I've already written the entire series, so the selections have already been made. Yeah, I'd like to lie and say that you've all got a say as to what happens to the stud in this story, but with my work and life commitments, I'm simply not prolific enough of an author/editor to keep this story going in real time. :) At least you'll be left hanging (as it were) at the end of each chapter, not knowing which of the selections I've chosen for the next installment. ;D

I hope you enjoy the ride! And without further ado, I present to you the first installment of "The Fun House - The Red Door"!

********

The Fun House: A Ball Bashing COYA

Based on an online choose-your-own adventure created by Sack Stomper

********

“Welcome to the Fun House!” you read once again from the well-worn piece of paper that you’ve just pulled from your pocket. The address on the paper matches that of the nondescript office building in front of you. With your heart hammering in your chest, you enter the front doors into a spacious lobby, taking a specific elevator to a specific floor. The elevator begins to rise, and your heart rate accelerates once again. You don’t think you’ve ever been this excited in your life, and you wonder for the thousandth time if the stories you’ve heard are actually true. 

A quiet electronic ding announces the elevator’s arrival on the specified floor. The doors part, and you enter a grand white lobby, absolutely empty except for three bright colored doors on the wall opposite from you — a yellow door, a red door, and a blue door. 

All three doors have numbered keypads on their handles, but there is otherwise no indication of what if behind each one. The paper in your hand provides you with the key codes to each door, but also indicates that you can only select one door, and that the key code can be used only once. 

Your heart continues to pound as you think back on how you ended up here. Last week, an unmarked envelope appeared at the door of your flat. Inside the envelope was a piece of paper with instructions to be in this specific place at this specific time. You had been waiting so long for your invitation to The Fun House that you had already dismissed it as an elaborate hoax -- the manifestation of a dark Internet joke that trolled the deeper corners of ball busting fetish sites. So when the envelope had arrived, you were thrilled to discover that The Fun House was not only real, but also that you would soon be exploring its legendary depths. 

Little was known about The Fun House outside of rumor and hearsay. The event was run and operated by a shadowy group known simply as “The Organization”. What actually occurred at The Fun House changed with every telling, as the event was rumored to have popped up at one point or another in just about every major city in the world, briefly hosting one or more encounters for an extremely select group of invitees before moving on to another mystery location. 

The one part of every story that remained consistent in each telling was that multiple doors were provided at each event, and behind every door was a naked and bound young man. In every story, the young male in question was extremely handsome, superbly fit and athletic, and very well endowed. And though bound, each handsome young stud was a willing and eager participant. It was said that these young men were paid great sums of money to volunteer their manhoods, allowing clients to live out their darkest ball-busting fantasies. 

And you definitely have some very dark fantasies that you want to fulfill. 

The only question now is which door do you pick? 

___ - The Yellow Door

_X_ - The Red Door

___ - The Blue Door

THE RED DOOR

THE GERMAN BEAR

You open the red door, revealing a relatively small, windowless room, perhaps 20 feet square with 10-foot-tall ceilings. The walls are a uniform tan color, and rows of LED lights recessed in the ceiling bathe the chamber in a warm, white light. But the room itself barely registers in your mind, as you are overwhelmed by the sight of the most spectacular specimen of male perfection you’ve ever seen standing on the other side of the room. 

The young man is facing you, and just as in all of the stories you’ve heard, he’s completely naked. His arms are shackled at his wrists and connected to chains that run up to the ceiling, while similar shackles bind his ankles to bolts in the floor. A very heavy and solid metal table stands directly in front of the naked stud, and with his genitals resting on its cold steel surface. 

You try to drink in the breathtaking sight of this magnificent man all at once, but the first word that comes to your mind to describe him is simply “BIG!” Big is his raw-boned frame, standing well over 6 feet tall with very broad shoulders that look to be easily a yard wide. Big are his muscles, the dense meat of a serious weightlifter packed astonishingly thick on his big bones. Big is the adorable, knowing grin on his extraordinarily handsome face, for he can see how much the sight of him is turning you on, and that clearly pleases him. 

And what an amazing face! His square features and heavy jawline make him look rugged and intensely masculine, while his soulful blue eyes and obvious youth soften his appearance enough to make him look both beautiful and handsome at the same time. His thick brown hair is cropped on top and shaved very short on the sides, and combined with the thick and sexy stubble on his powerful jaw and big, square chin just further accentuates his extraordinary manliness. 

Darker brown fur covers the vast expanse of his massive chest muscles, as well as the corrugated cobblestones that make up his gorgeous washboard abdomen. More of this dark hair is sprinkled on his massively muscular arms and even more massively muscular legs, and a thick thatch of dark hair erupts from each of his deep and muscular armpits. You are certain that the heady and erotic smell of pure male musk is coming from those two delicious-looking pits, which are already slightly damp despite the mild temperature in the room. 

But that is not all that is big about this most extraordinary and magnificent young man, and your eyes are quickly drawn to perhaps the biggest and most impressive parts of the handsome lad’s anatomy. The hirsute hunk is sporting the largest and thickest boner you’ve ever seen, a true monster of a cock that clearly exceeds a foot in length by at LEAST an inch or two. Several wide strips of white athletic tape have been used to secure the wrist-thick shaft of that mighty cock to the young man’s rippling and furry belly. The strips of tape stop just shy of the huge, mushroom-shaped cockhead, covered by its thick hood of foreskin and literally wedged between the underside of the two thick plates of muscle that make up the young man’s extraordinary pecs. The tape is clearly meant to keep the huge slab of meat conveniently out of the way, providing clear and unfettered access to the even more spectacular prize resting heavily on the steel table. 

You have seen some huge balls in your life, both in person and on the Internet, but you’ve never seen a set of human gonads that remotely approached the size of the absolutely massive orbs plopped so heavily on the cold table. You have frequently heard fruit names used to describe the size of a man’s balls — plums and kiwis for good-sized nuggets, lemons for really big balls, mangos for even bigger balls, oranges for those rare and truly massive whoppers, and once, for a particularly gargantuan set of gonads, a pair of grapefruit. But none of those terms could adequately describe to the two goliath globes of meat filling up this young man’s massive sac. The only fruit that comes to your mind to describe these most massive of gonads is breadfruit, for their stupendous size and slightly oblong shape are reminiscent of those gigantic tropical fruits. 

Your rock-hard cock gives a mighty lurch in your pants as your hungry eyes roam over the awe-inspiring expanse of what simply HAVE to be the largest human bollocks in history. A thick rubber band secured around the base of the lad’s meat-packed scrotum makes the two titanic testes bulge even more impressively in their sac. It’s obvious that the mighty-balled muscle stud must have shaved his massive nuts in the relatively recent past, but had neglected to do so today, for the pink orbs were covered in dark stubble that looked to be about a week old. 

Your visual review of this male fantasy made flesh takes only a few seconds, but you are so lost in lust that you are almost startled when the gorgeous young muscle bear speaks. 

“Hi! I’m Markus,” the handsome hunk says in a voice so deep and rich that it almost makes your knees buckle. His German accent is thick but clear as he says, “I would shake your hand, but I am a little tied up at the moment.” 

He winks at you, then sticks his tongue out the side of his mouth and flexes his arms above his head, giving you a truly spectacular view of his amazing body. 

You notice for the first time that Markus is standing against a metal post bolted to the floor and ceiling. Between his shackled limbs and the post behind him, the handsome and hairy hunk can only shift slightly, and certainly not enough to keep his vulnerable nuts out of the line of fire. 

You smile wickedly as you step further into the room, the heavy red door closing behind you with a surprisingly loud and resounding thud. You approach the bound mega stud and start reaching your hands toward his balls. His huge cock jumps and flexes against its bindings, for Markus is obviously turned on at how excited you are to start smashing his spuds.

“Wait! Please!”

For just a moment, you think that the furry muscle hunk has changed his mind about volunteering his behemoth bull balls to your most brutal fantasies, but then you quickly realize that he’s attempting to gesture to his right with nods of his ridiculously handsome head. You look over and notice a small table just out of your immediate vision that your lust-crazed eyes had hitherto not seen. On the table are three items:  including a gleaming hunting knife with an ornate blade, a heavy metal mallet, and a fist-sized black sphere that you instantly recognize as being an almost cartoonish-looking miniature bomb. 

Also on the table is a hand-written card that reads:

“Willkommen to the Red Room. I have picked out some fun toys for you to use on me. Please use them instead of your hands, as it will be more fun for both of us! I have some very strong and tough balls, so I hope to impress you with how much abuse I can take. Best regards, Markus.”

Your eyes dart back and forth between the table full of nut-busting goodies, his achingly handsome, smiling face, and the truly gargantuan set of bull gonads waiting for you on the steel table. He’s clearly eager to see which object you will select, for a sheen of clear and gelatinous precum is already causing the dark hair  on his belly to matte up. You hover your hand over the table, alternating between the knife, the mallet, and the bomb, and you scrunch your nose in concentration...

Which toy will you choose to fuck up Markus’ nuts? 

 ___ - Pick up the sharp knife

 ___ - Pick up the heavy mallet

 ___ - Pick up the black bomb

Deadwood - The Unmanning of Angus Johansen - Part 3

Deadwood - The Unmanning of Angus Johansen - Part 3

Original story by TripWire (called “Deadwood”)

********

“No!” Chloe and Angus shout. “Samson!” they cry next. 

Angus begs. 

“Samson, friend, you promised I could do her, get off one more time. I haven’t done that yet.” 

The crowd agrees, but the Reverend does not. 

“Finish it, Samson,” he says. “All this whoring wasn’t part of our agreement, which I and God must remind you was made long before you promised anything to this brute criminal.” 

“The preacher has a point, champ,” Samson says, stroking his chin in mock contemplation. “I did make certain promises prior to granting you this minor mercy.” 

Abe Tanner, a garrulous panner known for his love of a good argument, speaks up. 

“Ain’t no mercy. We all saw what was done to those twins, and it weren’t rape. I doubt a lesser man could have satisfied those little chippies.” 

“LIES!!” The Rev. Olsen rounds on ol’ Tanner, who’s unfazed. “You are damned to Hell if you side with this demon,” he says, shaking his cane at the miner. 

“Yeah?” Tanner replies. “Maybe ‘fore you send me there, you explain to me why Billy Young’s jizz is runnin’ down the neck of sweet an’ innocent, just-got-raped Carrie Kate.” 

All heads turn to look at the alluring waif. Billy tries to retreat into the center of the crowd. Several arms extend and drive him back to stand behind the guilty girl. Her hands are smearing the splatters of semen in an unsuccessful attempt to wipe away the evidence. 

“Father, no. It’s not ... I’ve been crying, you see, after what was done to me...” 

“Kinda sticky tears, all globbed up in your hair there, too, missy,” Abe observes dryly. The mood in the saloon, except among the scattering of Bible thumpers and betrayed husbands, swings decidedly in Angus’ favor. 

The Reverend can’t believe his eyes. The boy’s cum is shining on her neck and dripping from her curls. His daughter can’t be this much of a slut, to fornicate where anyone could see when he’s risking his reputation to save hers? It can’t be natural; therefore, the answer must be supernatural, which fits nicely with what he’s been saying all along. 

“Demons!” he cries. “Demons are possessing our children, our daughters and sons! Our wives! And all brought here by this creature, this so-called champion. The monstrosity between his legs is clear evidence, proof of what I say. Even now it stands forth after punishments that would make a mortal man lose consciousness.” 

Angus dares to speak despite the threat of Kwenimo’s knife. 

“Balls!” he shouts. “If I’m a demon, shouldn’t flaming jism shoot out of my prick or some other nonsense? Where’s my tail, where’s my horns?” He laughs bravely, considering his cock is nailed to a board. “Well, maybe I’ve got one horn,” he says, looking down at the still stiff rod. “But I oughta have at least two, hadn’t I, if what the preacher says is true?” 

The Eights erupts in laughter. 

Samson steps forward, arms raised to his patrons as he meets the Reverend’s hate-filled eyes. He has an idea. He wills the preacher to stay silent and succeeds. 

“I say ol’ Angus is probably right about the demon aspect of this little argument, and Abe, can’t believe I’m saying this, he may be right too about the goings-on here earlier tonight. But you know and I know, my fellow Deadwooders, that our good looking, studly champion from back East has been cutting a pretty wide swath through the womenfolk in the camp — and not just my whores. He’s got more to answer for than just ruining the twins’ pure reputations.” 

Shouts of encouragement come from the handful of cuckolded men whose pretty wives flocked to fuck the big boned boxer. 

“So I propose,” the saloonkeeper and whoremaster continues, “that you allow me to keep my promise to Angus, and let him get his nut off, and keep at least part of my promise to the Reverend — and a new promise to the husbands of Deadwood — by allowing Kwenimo to take a nut off. Angus can keep the other. What do you say?” 

Assent comes so fast and from so many corners of the Eights, Angus doesn’t have time to appeal for a lesser sentence. Everyone but Chloe and the champ have judged the one-ball proposal an acceptable compromise and good reason for more entertainment. Nobody appears ready to answer the question of whether the boxer’s remaining testicle will be able to survive without a scrotum to contain it. 

“Well there’s only one hole you haven’t fucked on little Chloe,” Samson says to Angus while the cute teen begins again to lick and nibble at the oversized glans. “Here’s your last chance to blow both balls, champ. 

“But before you do, Kwenimo would like to provide you with a sort of apology, a special potion of his that will make you fire off more joy juice than you ever have in your life.” 

“That’s a mighty nice offer, Samson, but I don’t...” 

“No, no, I insist. Kwenimo?” 

Nailed down as he is and still roped to the bartenders, Angus is helpless to resist the “apology.” The Sioux approaches with a huge hypodermic needle, although no one in Deadwood has seen such an instrument. He grabs one nut and pulls it out behind the defenseless stud as Deirdre did before. The crowd leans forward. The long needle pierces the testicle. Angus winces as the needle is pressed into the very heart of his thick ball meat. Kwenimo depresses the plunger, filling the giant gonad with the mysterious potion. 

A fiery warmth begins to burn in the left nut. It’s not unpleasant, and the suffering from Deirdre’s pounding, squeezing and pulling departs on that side. The sensation increases with a second injection through the opposite wall of the ball. The right sperm maker is needled twice in turn, bringing a smile to the boxer’s face. Samson smiles as well. Only Chloe recognizes that it’s his evil smile. 

The “potion” swirling into the nooks and crannies of the fighter’s gargantuan orbs contains opium and alcohol — lots and lots of alcohol. 

Angus’ comment about flaming jism gave Samson his best idea of the night. While the debate over justice for the boxer was bending toward leniency, Samson had asked Kwenimo if he knew a brew that would in fact generate fiery semen. A practical sort, the Lakota witch had quickly come up with the dope and alcohol mix, but he warned that an ignition source would be needed. And there were no guarantees as to the outcome. 

Samson believes flying gobs of burning goo will seal Johansen’s fate beyond any argument even if a few guess the truth. The crowd will demand that the boxer be nullified. Samson bends down to whisper part of his new plan to perky-titted Chloe. He doesn’t explain how it will once again reverse the champ’s revived fortunes. 

Kwenimo hands the syringe to the girl and points to Angus’ piss slit. She slips the sharp point cautiously into the thick bone’s urethra and squirts the contents down the tube. The Indian demands two more doses before he’s content and gestures for her to insert the needle fully, even jamming the tapered cone of the syringe into the cum spout. Only once does she nick the inside of the urethra. 

After each filling, she drags her thumb firmly along the outside of the big vessel to pump the liquid deep into the recesses of the genitals. She doesn’t understand Kwenimo’s “apology,” but if it will make Angus cum more, she’s eager to help. She loves watching the thick, gooey stuff shoot out of Angus’ big gun, and since he already came more copiously and vigorously than any 10 other men she knew, she was eager to see what one of Angus’ augmented ejaculations would look like. 

Deirdre is demonstrating her throating technique to Billy Young’s father off to one side of the stage, so Chloe must lubricate the giant prick herself before Angus stuffs it in her ass. She applies the goop generously, knowing it will add to the narcotic overload Angus feels. Hopefully, with all of Kwenimo’s doping, the boxer won’t even be aware that the cord has been cut when the time comes. 

With practiced moves, Kwenimo unbends the nails and yanks them loose without touching the wounded penis. The heavyweight champ is free to begin butt fucking the tiny whore. 

Gently, Angus presses the hot head of his 19-inch cock against her opening. She cries a little before the hurt truly begins, just to please the crowd. The pain becomes real when the enormous glans bulls past the sphincter muscle. Small girl, small holes. The boxer keeps one hand on her hip. Chloe covers it with her own, digging her nails in when she needs him to slow down. 

They establish a rhythm, the girl wincing, grimacing and yelping at intervals as he pushes deeper with each stroke. Some of the suffering is faked, and the pain may in fact be less because of the primitive anesthetic in the lubricant. But the crowd expects a little noise from the girl if only to reinforce their thrill at seeing her so hugely penetrated. She obliges. 

Four big racks of candles are trotted out to help light the scene, although some would argue it’s not necessary. One of the blazing stands winds up next to the copulating couple. They can both see the scowling visage of the Right Reverend Olsen over the tops of the flames. 

Angus senses a pending climax far sooner than he would like. He tries to relax but the sensation is so good and his organs are so full of jism and opiates that control slips away. The gigantic balls begin to rise as their cords contract. The crowd sees it, and so does Samson. Chloe detects it in the extra swell of the penis assaulting her. 

“Shoot where they can see you, baby,” she coos to him. Samson has warned her not to let the fighter blow inside her. 

Angus withdraws proudly and lets her take the foot-and-a-half of slick cock in both hands as she rises to a sitting position on her board, slender legs dangling prettily on either side. She puts both thumbs on the ganglia of nerves just underneath the glans, urging the gorgeous organ to release its doctored load. 

The trembling begins in Angus’ feet and climbs his legs to encompass the entire handsome frame of the long-tormented stud. Casually, Chloe aims his cum cannon at the candles and directly at the hateful preacher. This she does according to instruction. The boxer roars with the power of the first blast. 

An incredibly long string of spunk erupts from the penis. The alcohol vapors are potent, stinging Chloe’s eyes. When the jet of altered man juice tickles a candle wick, it explodes into flame, illuminating the stunned faces of the crowd. Some of the long squirt burns away as it arcs toward the Reverend, but a huge jelly-like core lands with a loud sizzling splat across his left cheek and eye, trailing away into the widow’s peak of his hair. He screams, leaping to his feet. 

Whirling, fiery ropes of jism burst in rapid succession from Angus’ cock. Each massive blast of cum is bigger than what a normal man could produce in a week. Four more massive wads streak the preacher’s black frock coat as the crowd bolts in every direction away from the howling man. A sixth glob of burning wad sears the other side of the Reverend’s face. Chloe unrepentantly keeps jacking the rest of the powerful load from the fire hose that is Angus Johansen’s 19-inch dick. A dozen spurts more are ignited by the candle flames before the ejaculate begins to fall short of the little fellow, who rolls on the floor slapping at the blazing lines of fire crisscrossing his clothing and face. He cries, “Demon! Demon! Demon!” uninterrupted until his son throws a coat over him to smother the seminal flames. 

The boy has time to extinguish his father completely in the long moments it takes for Angus to finish his promised orgasm. A puddle of unburned alcohol cum spreads at the base of Chloe’s teeter-totter. The last spasms, though generous, lacked the impetus to cross the candles. The caustic smell of the accelerant fills the air along with that of charred flesh. The goliath organ feels warm and fuzzy with the dope now seeping through the walls of the urethra. 

Chloe squeezes unshot drops of alcohol and opium semen from Angus’ penis, dipping her pinky finger into the wide opening to scoop out a last bit of goo so she can taste it. The flavor is like a too-strong drink, but still sweet enough to savor. For brief seconds, her terror loses its place to sexual exploration. 

And the joy of seeing that hateful man burning... 

Looking past the stage, the girl beams triumphantly at the vanquished preacher. Her expression is not lost on the eldest son, or the daughters who have come tentatively forward to aid the injured man. Chloe observes none of their anger. 

Angus wears the same shocked face as most of the Eights’ patrons until he perceives Samson’s clever plan for turning the crowd against him once more. Never able to resist a good fuck, Angus has unwittingly cast himself as the demon that the pastor named him — with a little help. 

“You evil, fucking sonofabitch,” he says thickly to Samson through the drug haze. 

“Me?” Samson mouths the word mockingly, pointing at his chest. 

The saloonkeeper shouts to the bartenders still holding Angus’ ropes. 

“Quick, boys! Tie him to the barrel again before he sets the whole place afire! My God, he really is a demon!” 

Hobbled, the fighter can’t use his powerful physique to counter the pull on his wrists. He’s dragged yelling back to the barrel and stretched out once more as the forever hard penis finally begins to droop a little. Chloe’s gloating reverts to terror again. She thought they’d won when the mean little man went down. 

Once the champ appears to present no further threat, the crowd reassembles in front of the stage and around the mewling preacher who no longer is capable of coherent speech. The camp’s excuse for a doctor comes forward when the Olsen children refuse Kwenimo’s offer of assistance. No heathen will touch their father, especially one who has had such a suspicious role in all that’s gone wrong this evening. 

The boy rises, his father’s former strength seemingly transferred to him. He points at Samson. 

“I see your hand in this, you purveyor of filth and debauchery. No more deals, no more delays, no more fornication. Finish this devil now or we burn this House of Lies to the ground!” 

The angry eyes of the crowd back up the threat. No one understands exactly how Samson has arranged this disaster, but they presume rightly that his hands are dirty. Their looks say if they could prove anything, the whores and their pimp would be burned out before sunrise. 

Samson turns to the grinning Kwenimo and jerks his head toward the boxer. The bright little blade is already in his two-finger grip. 

“Wait,” Lashly says, not content to be quiet this time. “Her too. The whore. She should be punished with him. She aimed the devil’s thing at papa. And she was glad.” 

Chloe’s jaw drops. 

“But ... no, Samson told me...” 

The slap that takes her across the face makes the doe eyes roll up in her head as she pitches off the board. Samson half catches her, then picks up the limp lovely and deposits her in front of Kwenimo and the boxer. Once again, he whispers in the Indian’s ear. 

A pinch of stinking something is held under the girl’s nose. She revives, a bit less alert than before but still afraid. Kwenimo boosts her from the floor to a seat astraddle her teeter-totter directly in front of the bound boxer. The momentarily drooping dong throbs now under a fresh measure of aphrodisiac poured quickly down the already dopey Angus. Clem and Calhoun scoot Chloe’s seat even closer to the condemned tumescence. 

The unguided cockhead pushes against her left breast then the Indian slides her over so it rests between the two darling boobs. Even with a four-inch section of skin torn away near its base and even with the balls banging around without a bag to hold them, the beautiful package still thrills her. Two coral colored nipples rise in response. 

Kwenimo smiles; he was worried he would have to smear the sensitive titty tips with an irritant to make them stand up. This is better. He hopes to fuck this whore as his reward for his service today. It will be a rare pleasure. He hasn’t savaged any white pussy since raping a settler’s wife and daughter down in Kansas 12 years ago. 

Samson warns Chloe not to move no matter what happens. She turns her adorable eyes at him but fails to draw any sympathy with the vulnerable look. She nods. She’s only a whore. What can she do against strong men when even the best fighter in the world has been subdued and humiliated? 

“Arch your back,” Samson tells her. 

Kwenimo holds up a long loop of thin silver wire. The end next to her taut nipple has been sharpened beyond a fine point. The delicate girl gasps when the fragile skin is pierced by the wire. She struggles not to pull back. Kwenimo smoothly drives the point through the pretty nipple, a tiny amount of blood showing on either side. Its erect state falters a bit. This is her punishment. 

The big, thumping cock head is threaded next on the wire. The glans is holed close to its middle but not deep enough to intersect the hard cavernosa. Angus has been gagged again, so his only reaction is a tightening around the eyes and a few grunts. 

The left nipple is lanced less smoothly, prompting a tiny cry from Chloe. More wire is pulled through all three pieces of erectile tissue so that the ends can be looped behind the girl’s neck. The purpose of the loop isn’t immediately clear. 

Lashly steps forward unbidden and tugs at the silver, bringing tears to Chloe’s cheeks. Angus growls at the twin through his gag. 

“Like that, whore? Better than burning isn’t it? Or losing an eye? Papa may be blinded and this is all they do to you? I hope it tears them off when they take the demon’s pretty horn from him.” 

Clem, who likes Chloe, gently draws the angry Olsen girl away from her less fortunate counterpart. Lashly shrugs him off but sits again. 

Below the metal circle joining nipples to glans, Kwenimo has returned his attention to the swinging balls. Sitting cross legged, he brings the huge left nut into full view of the crowd and stretches the cord to the snapping point while Angus’ muffled protests rise in volume and level of alarm. He squeezes the enormous man fruit just to see the fighter bang his head against the barrel. Destroying this man has been most enjoyable. 

He puts the blade edge against the cords close to the body, lightly testing the spring of the flesh and playing with the doomed he-man. Then he rests his thumb on the other side and cuts. Angus throws his head back and bellows into his gag as the severed ends jump apart, and the crowd ooohs and ahhhs again. Kwenimo holds the first detached nut high by the cords before lowering it into the big glass bowl beside the scrotum and floating rectangles of cock skin. 

Maybe the preacher was right. Maybe such a bulky, bloated ball doesn’t belong on a man. The cut nut appeared huge when it hung from the boxer. It seems truly gigantic now, half-submerged and displacing enough fluid to raise the level in the bowl almost to the point of overflow. Angus is indeed a bull of a man. Half a bull, now. 

The testicle is given a quick massage. Milky sperm is stripped out of the wrinkled cord into the clear liquid of the bowl. The hypodermic, cleared of its first fiery mixture, has been loaded with the same preservative surrounding the suspended genital tissues. The spermatic cord is fitted over the longest needle Kwenimo has available before the pickling solution is shot down the tube. Again the ball is kneaded then more juice is fired into the cord. 

Chloe closes her eyes rather than look, but look is all Angus can do as the long horror of this night becomes permanent. He is helpless to stop the removal of his masculinity. 

The second ball gets placed atop the penis upright, the intact cords curving over and down the side of the testicle then below the base of the penis to loop up and disappear inside Angus’ groin. A torturer’s smile becomes fixed on the Sioux’s face. Instead of snapping the cord, he sets his blade against the bottom of the huge nut, facing the onlookers. Angus jerks and bucks against his restraints, trying to throw his last remaining ball off its unsteady perch as if that might save it from the Lakota knife. Kwenimo waits. 

When Angus quiets, the blade is pushed deep, almost to the other side of the nut, effectively splitting the organ as the knife is drawn upward. The effect resembles a butterfly cut for pork chops. As the blue-white fruit is opened, milky goo drains out of the small chambers and fissures inside. The boxer is banging his head again and screaming into his gag. Blood comes from his mouth where he has bitten himself through the gag. 

Chloe weeps, but Lashly and Carrie Kate approach to peer at the organic architecture of the seed pod. 

“Demon. We can be sure now,” Carrie Kate says matter-of-factly. “A true man’s seed makers would look more ...” 

“Holy?” Lashly suggests. 

“Yes, exactly. These are too ugly.” 

Kwenimo extends the halved nut minutely towards the girls, gesturing for them to touch the tender tissues. Lashly puts forth her index finger and explores to see the champion’s reaction. He still has full feeling through the big nerve in the spermatic cord. The touch is agony, as much mental as physical. She is playing with his opened organ as if he were less than an animal. Carrie Kate takes in the horror in Angus’ eyes and tenderly pulls her sister’s hand away. 

“Let it be done,” she says. 

Two golden threads are used to hold the split testicle closed and make it ready for detachment. Kwenimo stretches the cords tight as before, but now he strops the blade along a one-inch length of the connection, wearing away fine layers of flesh. The three swipes necessary to scrape away the main nerve stimulate involuntary spasms in Angus. When only a remnant holds, Kwenimo tugs sharply and the cord snaps. The filleted nut joins its fellow in the bowl. 

Chloe’s eyes track it this time, disbelieving. Such things shouldn’t be done, they just shouldn’t, she thinks. She despairs. Her madly-hung lover is now a eunuch, but it’s not enough for Samson or the Indian. 

Kwenimo happily dry shaves the pubic hair surrounding Angus’ turgid penis. That done, he probes with his fingers above the base of the shaft, locating the pelvic bone. He digs lower to find the suspensory ligament that holds up the legendary cock. Satisfied, he cuts shallowly from the right edge of the scrotal wound up and over the penis and down the left side. Twice more he follows the same path, trimming away slivers of flesh that will only look ragged when the flesh bone is freed from its moorings. He pauses now and then when the fighter struggles futilely against his bonds. New grease is smeared over the growing wound around the penis to halt the obscuring blood. 

At last, the way is clear to the suspensory ligament. It is huge, as is everything connected with the bafflingly large organs. Kwenimo has amputated the dicks of other well-endowed men. None so large, but on them the supporting structure was feeble in comparison with the cocks they were required to suspend. The bigger the dicks were, the lower the angle when hard. Kwenimo had always been disappointed by the extremely large ones. Johansen, on the other hand, wears his erection proudly, thrusting up into the air when not encased in mouth, pussy, or ass. He has a truly champion cock to go with the champion fists. 

Despite the grand nature of the boxer’s ligament, the knife parts it all the same, and the giant penis sags abruptly, jerking on Chloe’s nipples where the fine wire connects her to him. A sharp, short scream comes from her. She doesn’t dare look down to see the damage, but it’s not much. The bulk of the weight was absorbed by the loop around her neck as Kwenimo and Samson intended. Despite Lashly’s demands, they’re not about to damage the earning potential of a fine, young whore. 

Eighteen inches lower, the immense dick wavers with much of its raw root revealed after the cutting of its main anchor. Kwenimo pulls at the cock, drawing three inches of bloody root into the candlelight, letting Chloe’s nipples and neck hold up the front end. Deirdre has wedged a pillow behind Angus’ head to keep him from breaking his skull. She means it for a kindness, but it only prolongs the boxer’s pain. 

Once more, Kwenimo strips the covering from the cock, this time at the newly exposed root. When the cavernosa and urethra are bared, the Indian pauses for the flicker of an eye, then bisects the cum tube with a quick flash of the knife. Men who haven’t shivered before, quaver now as they imagine themselves in the champion’s place. 

Thicker wire is selected for the next phase of the mutilation. Silver again because Kwenimo believes in the ceremony of sacrifice. He forces a sharpened end between the dividing cavernosa of the exposed root. The wire is cinched around one barrel of meat. The other engorged tube is accorded its own wire noose. With two pairs of pliers, the Indian begins to tighten the loops, choking off the blood flow and crushing the two cavernosa. When the hardness is compressed to the tearing point, he loops smaller gauge wire behind the first pair and repeats the process. The long dick is staying hard, the wires trapping the blood inside them. Two pencil-thin channels of bottlenecked cock are all that connects the American Casanova to what’s left of his fuckmeat. 

A third set of wires are tied loosely to finish the job. 

Kwenimo winks at Chloe, a sincere attempt to reassure her. The weight of the penis when it comes off won’t tear her delicate flesh, he means to say. She doesn’t understand. 

He spins the wires tight quickly. They’re fine enough to rip easily through the flesh, but that’s not what Kwenimo has in mind. He’ll cut behind them with his knife, then tighten the wires on the suddenly flaccid flesh. Without the pressure of the blood, the cut ends will close instead of rip the tissues beneath the fine wire. If the Sioux is quick enough, Johansen’s severed pole won’t soften a bit. 

Samson comes forward and removes the gag from Angus mouth. The boxer breathes heavily but says nothing. 

“Any last words before you’re cut, demon?” 

“I’ll see you and the fucking heathen in Hell,” he says. His next sentence is lost because Kwenimo chooses that instant to slice through the pinched cavernosa. 

Blood sprays from Angus’ groin as both barrels are cut in two. The choked end of the enormous cock swings free of its owner to thud between Chloe’s thighs. He screams and so does she, although she reacts mostly from fright and the shock of having the boxer’s suddenly detached penis hanging from her nipples and neck. 

Kwenimo has been inhumanly quick. A miniscule drip of blood flows from the right cavernosa, but no more. The Indian waves a candle under it, searing the flesh together before turning back to stop the fountain of blood coming from the nullified hero. 

As if on cue, both Angus and Chloe faint. He loses consciousness from blood loss. She passes out from stress and terror. 

Samson catches the girl before she can roll to the floor with the bloody trophy around her neck. He lays her gently back on the board and positions the erect severed manhood carefully on her belly and chest. He calls Deirdre over to make a prettier arrangement of the unconscious girl’s hair. 

The crowd is already surging forward to see the bloody gap in Angus’ groin and his sundered cock on Chloe’s beautiful pierced bosom. Clem and Calhoun try to hold back the press so Samson can organize a queue and assess a fee for the viewing. There are grumblings but no talk of torching the place, for which Samson counts himself lucky. 

Chloe wakes after a dozen men have passed, daring to touch her punctured nipples instead of the real object of their fascination — the unjustly cleaved but justly famous and tremendously oversized penis of Angus Johansen. She starts to rise but Samson threatens her life and forces her to recline with the hot cock slowly growing cold against her. 

Angus she can see, head lolling, as Kwenimo unties him from the barrel and lays him out on another board. Most of the bleeding from the gaping wound has been halted. He may survive the shock or die, either one. 

He hasn’t much reason to live. Chloe pities him with all her heart. For such a virile male to become less than a man will hurt beyond any physical sensation of pain. No doubt he too will wake on display. Staring faces will watch the horror rush back into his eyes as he sees himself without his huge genitals for the first time. Kwenimo will wait until the crowd clears to sew him up properly. 

After the entire line has passed by once, Samson allows the crowd to mill around, approaching the little whore and the big boxer at will. The other whores are commanded to suck and fuck openly if their customers want to dispense with the privacy of upstairs rooms. He orders this mostly to offend the eldest son of the Rev. Olsen, hoping he will leave with his blinded father and his sisters now that the doctor has finished tending the burned preacher. They only depart, however, when Billy Young starts making eye contact with Carrie Kate and nodding toward a dark and unoccupied corner of the saloon. 

The crowd gathers close a few minutes later when the Indian unthreads the silver wire from Chloe’s nipples and the head of the clipped cock. He smears her points quickly with an unguent and wraps a clean white bandage about her chest. It’s not strictly necessary, given the small size of the holes in her teats, but Kwenimo has become enamored of the young girl and hopes to win her favor and Samson’s permission to fuck her brains out. The aging warrior is no Angus, but he fancies his prick big enough to make most women walk carefully the morning after. 

Freed from her attachment to Angus’ culled bone, Chloe waits for Kwenimo to turn away then she hops off her board, dodges Samson’s grasp and flees up the stairs to her room. Samson lets her go, figuring it’s more trouble than it’s worth to drag her back before the crowd. He decides he’ll fetch her in an hour or so and charge double the normal price for anyone who wants to plug her holes and gnaw the perforated nipples while they’ll still bleed. 

A broad table is dragged onto the stage for Kwenimo to initiate his taxidermy on the fantastic fuck rod so recently attached to the former heavyweight champion of the world. Former now because what man could possibly summon the desire to fight when all desire has been hacked from his powerfully muscular physique? Deirdre doesn’t argue when Kwenimo directs her to wash the champion bone, which is smeared with pussy juice, spit, Angus’ own cum and Kwenimo’s narcotic lubricants. 

True to form, Johansen wakes from the shock of nullification sooner than expected. Kwenimo identifies an opportunity and mixes a concoction to clear the fuddled brain of the gelded fighter. He should have stayed senseless for hours with the blood loss and the opiates. No matter. He can watch with dismay as his privates are converted to public curiosities. 

Chloe imagined it much as it happens. Recall comes slowly to Angus. The mental fog lifts in a few nodding swings of the head. The transformation, when it begins, is horrible. Full-fledged terror distorts the handsome face, and his howl of despair as his eyes find his dismembered dick swivels every head in the saloon. Kwenimo smiles. He guesses the decocked cocksman will go mad soon. 

To business. 

The rigid cock is laid on its back, so plug full of blood that it balances on its wide head and wider base, the sweeping arc of the bone allowing nothing of the shaft to touch the table. The silver-tied ends of the trophy meat hang an inch or so over the edge. Clem positions a bucket under the twin cylinders of the corpora cavernosa. 

Kwenimo aligns his knife over the narrow gap between the second and third sets of wires and slices a quarter-inch from the exposed root. The fine hoops of silver clink at the bottom of the bucket an eye blink before the pressurized surge of blood splats over them. The penis wilts quickly, shrinking and drawing in on itself while the fluid drains. The flayed area almost disappears in the accordion bunching of flaccid cock. Where two heartbeats ago 19 inches of solid male wood held itself up, only 10 inches cringes now. The head twists over lazily on its side, too tired to ever punish another pussy. The smaller crowd now gathered round the table are almost saddened by the deflation. 

The obnoxious, overweight whore who called for blood sausage earlier in the evening assists the Indian with squeezing more blood from the meat. Rhoda stretches the shrunken sausage to its erect length while Kwenimo limbers up the fat end of a pool cue that Samson keeps for a billy club against rowdy patrons. He flattens the very tip of the wide cockhead under the cue, rolling it up to Rhoda’s fingers just behind the glans. She moves her fingers quickly to pinch the tip of the knob, and Kwenimo crushes down the length of the taut hose. An unexpected amount of blood streams out of the two spouts over the bucket. 

Angus vomits, sickened by the sight of his famous penis being prepared for stuffing like the main course at Sunday supper. 

Kwenimo squeegees the organ several times more, turning it thrice to make sure the alternating pressures force out all of its natural fluid. 

With every last drop of blood pressed out, the mammoth prick shrinks to a pale, withdrawn 8 inches. To Angus’ eyes, his renowned rod looks insignificant. He passes out again. 

************* 

Three weeks later Angus has suffered through an infection and long fever. An amused assemblage of bar patrons awaits him as he staggers down the stairs toward a waiting stagecoach. Chloe props him up. The Eights’ patrons make a path for the couple that directs them close to the long bar where a purple silk covering glows over a towering glass cylinder. Samson pulls the cover off as Angus passes. The weakened man tries not to see, but his head turns and his eyes travel up and down the fluid-filled tube, noting the perfect pink coloring, the bulging veins, the restored skin, the pendant testicles. With the thick root added to its length, the tremendous cock seems larger and prouder than ever. The swollen, purple head appears to be straining to shoot new globs of rich, creamy cum, but it will not. 

Angus lowers his head as the laughter herds him out the door. 

************** 

“Quite a story,” the handsome young cowboy tells Samson. The barkeep blows out the lamps above the tall cylinder, casting the preserved penis into shadow. He holsters the display case inside its silk covering and replaces it on the shelf behind the bar. 

“Worth a quarter?” Samson asks with a smile. 

“Worth your balls,” the suddenly angry cowboy says. “How do ya do? My name is Pete Johansen.” As if to prove his heritage, the young blond cowboy opens the fly to his pants and hauls out a truly gigantic cock, over 12 inches long completely flaccid and nearly as thick as a baseball bat. Samson suddenly recognizes the young man, who has the stature, musculature, and chiseled features of the defeated, deballed, and decocked warrior, as well as the stunning beauty of his long-lost favorite whore, Chloe. It looked like Angus’ last fuck with Chloe hadn’t been for naught after all. 

Samson reaches for the sawed-off pool cue he keeps under the bard. The muscular cowboy has been waiting with the reflexes of the young son of a very quick boxer. He thumps Samson between the eyes with the butt of his revolver. 

Later, bleeding unchecked from his blank groin, Samson tells Pete where Kwenimo lives.