Jayse's Brutal Ball Busting Stories

I have collected, edited, and authored hundreds of ball busting stories involving brutal M/M action against some of the most handsome and hugely hung muscle men imaginable, and I wanted to finally share these stories on the web. These stories are all pure fiction and should NOT be tried at home. Even the herculean hunks in my stories sometimes don't survive with their balls intact, and if you acted out any of these stories, serious or fatal injury would result.

Monday, December 28, 2015

A Painful Encounter in Baghdad - Part 1

Here's another series with a decidedly military theme. I hope you enjoy it!

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A Painful Encounter in Baghdad - Part 1

Based on an original story entitled “A Painful Loss” by Anthony

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It was yet another torturously hot day in the streets of Baghdad. All of us Marines had a difficult enough time dealing with the heat at the best of times, but carrying 90 pounds of equipment plus body armor, a heavy helmet, and a semi-automatic weapon made it hell. Still, I’m 19-year-old Marine bull, I’ve gone through months of intense and grueling training, and I’m more than physically fit enough to face any challenge. Way more, in fact. Besides, I had always known that being a Marine would expose me to many dangers and hardships, so discomfort such as this came as no surprise. I had known since I was a young teenager that I wanted to serve my country, so here I was, doing exactly that.

All of the Marines in my platoon were prime specimens of young men at the peak of our strength and fitness, strapping and virile young lads, and so we knew that we were more than a match for even this brutally harsh environment. But it was a recognized fact among all of my platoon buddies — heck, among the whole damn Marine base — that I was by far the biggest, beefiest, and strongest stud in the entire division, and perhaps in all of the United States armed forces.

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You see, I have always been a big boy, reaching my full 6-foot, 4-inch in height by the tender age of 15 and quickly and easily gaining slabs and slabs of lean and powerful muscle. And I mean a LOT of muscle! So much muscle, in fact, that by the time I graduated high school, I was already a 270-pound muscle giant, and the biggest and strongest high school athlete ever to come out of the Tri-County area.

My growth had been so phenomenal, in fact, that the high school administration suspected that I was taking steroids, and in my sophomore year they had forced my coach and my parents to have me tested for illegal substances. I don’t really blame the school officials for doing that, though; if I had been in their shoes, I might have done the same thing! I mean, I was orders of magnitude bigger than any of the other lads in school. And besides, steroids and growth hormones are dangerous and sometimes deadly substances for adults, so I can only imagine how harmful they might be to a teenager who was still doing so much growing. Anyway, as the tests later proved, I wasn’t taking any steroids or supplements of any kind. But the doctors did discover something very unusual about me, something that — at least partly — explained my phenomenal muscular growth and extraordinary strength.

As early as age 10, I had realized that there was something different about me. When I first saw other boys my age naked and looked at their genitals, what I saw on them didn’t look at all like what I saw when I looked at my own naked body. Even then, I was already taller and more muscular than the other boys, but it was what was hanging between my legs that REALLY set me apart. My young cock was easily twice as long and four times as thick as those of the other boys, and my balls were five or six times bigger as well. When I compared myself to the other boys, it wasn’t just like comparing apples and oranges, it was like comparing apples and watermelons.

I was tremendously insecure about this size difference as a kid, and thought I might be defective in some way. So I hid my genitals from everyone — parents and siblings at home, the boys in gym class, everyone. Changing into gym clothes and showering after athletics without being seen in the nude became a challenge, but I developed lots of ways to make sure that I was never naked around the other boys. I was terrified of being called out and ridiculed, of having my secret shame revealed to the world.

By the time I was 16 and was forced to submit to the humiliating examination of doctors for alleged drug abuse, my junk had grown to truly enormous dimensions. The medical team examining me couldn’t at first believe their eyes when they discovered my freakish deformity, and my shame and embarrassment knew no bounds. Once the lead doctor got over his initial shock, though, he very kindly spoke to me in private and assured me that there was nothing wrong with me. In fact, he said that my condition, though extremely rare, was something that most other men would be tremendously jealous of and secretly wanted to possess for themselves. Though I didn’t get over my private shame over my enormous size right away, that doctor helped set me on the road toward accepting myself for who I am.

My case was so unusual, and my genitals so incredibly large, that the doctors ran a whole battery of tests on me, including taking a sperm sample (THAT was especially embarrassing for me!). All of the test results were off the charts. My massive balls churned out testosterone and various other male growth factors like some sort of industrial hormone factories. I was literally swimming with the stuff, pumped full of more than 20 times the normal amount of testosterone. My extraordinarily elevated hormone levels were no doubt a huge factor in why I was effortlessly growing so thick and muscular, and why I was so unnaturally strong.

My sperm count was also off the charts, so high apparently that the doctors at first suspected I had tumors in both testicles. But no, it turned out that my bad boys were simply mighty lava factories, constantly cranking out mind-blowingly copious quantities of perfectly healthy sperm. There were no tumors in my nuts, or anything else wrong with my balls or the rest of my body. In fact, the doctors concluded that I was in extraordinarily good health, healthy as an ox, and simply the recipient of a truckload of amazing genetic gifts.

My family and coach were understandably relieved by my clean bill of health, and the school administration was satisfied and (for the most part) stopped their witch hunt against me. But somehow, word got out to my fellow students that I was particularly “gifted” between my legs, and my life quickly became a lot more complicated.

I had long been the subject of an unusual amount of attention because of my great muscular size and definition. It also didn’t hurt that I had what you could call classically all-American good looks. You know, the kind of chiseled, square-jawed masculine beauty that one always associated with either muscle-bound jocks or comic book super heroes. And since I was already more muscular than any high school jock had a right to be, it was probably more accurate to compare me to a blond-haired, blue-eyed Superman than a mere teen stud. Anyway, my combination of looks and physique meant that young women were always fawning over me, and all the guys wanted to be my friend.

All of that attention went into overdrive when word about the humongous size of my genitals became common knowledge.

****************

I soon felt like I wasn’t being viewed as a person anymore. Women, young and old, looked at me with unbridled lust in their eyes. Others were embarrassed to make eye contact, and some were just plain terrified of me. The boys weren’t much better; a lot of them became jealous, like I’d somehow betrayed them by being hung bigger than them, in addition to also being taller, stronger, and better looking. For a while there, the taunting and hazing became pretty severe. And then there were some boys, usually the quiet ones, who I would catch stealing furtive glances at me in class or in the gym locker room.

It all got even more intense after the unfortunate incident with Julia Barrington. Julia was the prettiest and most popular girl in school, and all the boys, even the gay ones, were at least a little bit in love with her. She was a senior to my sophomore, so I figured she’d never even notice me (somehow I mistakenly figured that the fact I was already stronger and more muscular than any of the seniors — or any other man in town — was beneath her notice). I was completely floored, then, when just a couple of weeks after news leaked out about the size of my cock and balls, Julia coyly and brazenly walked up to me in the school hallway and, in front of everybody, told me to pick her up at 7 for a date!

I don’t think I even said a word in response, I was simply too stunned! I think I just wordlessly nodded my head yes and then watched her walk away. But you can bet that I was at her house at 7:00 PM that night, dressed in my nicest clothes (I was already at the point where I had to have most of my clothes tailored for me, which was an expensive proposition for my long-suffering parents) and ready to take her out for dinner. Julia was as beautiful as always when she met me at the door. But instead of letting me take her out for dinner, she explained that her parents were out of town for the night, and she pulled me inside.

Looking back, it’s now obvious to me where this was all going. But I was so naive back then that I didn’t have a clue. Besides, my teenage hormones were raging (and remember, I had a shit ton more of those teenage hormones raging than any another boy my age…or any man of ANY age) and I was having trouble even thinking straight.

Julia deftly maneuvered me into her bedroom, gently pushed me back onto her bed, and then started undressing me. As she pulled my shirt off, she kept telling me how handsome I was, how big and beautiful my body was, and my whole body just quivered with sexual excitement. My poor cock went from soft to rock solid so fast that it hurt, and strained mightily against my trousers, begging for release. Julia could see the massive mound forming in my pants, and her eyes grew wide with surprise and lust. She slowly unzipped my pants and pulled my pants down off my muscular legs, revealing my boxer briefs, which were stuffed with an obscene amount of iron hard cock and thick ball meat. Unable to hold herself back, Julia flipped down the waistband of my shorts, and my cock burst free, springing upward like some great prehistoric beast and colliding with my muscular chest and belly with a loud slap of beef on beef.

Even at 16, my cock was already a monster, measuring just over 16 inches in length and as thick as a beer can. The massive, apple-sized head smacked right between the great curved underside of my muscular pecs. My thick shaft was so incredibly hard that the large, snaking veins looked ready to pop right through the skin! I had never been so turned on in my life!

Julia could only stare in open mouthed awe at the sight of my naked cock, and it took her several long moments to regain her composure. She then smiled slyly at me and started removing her top, unbuttoning the front of her blouse. I could see that she wasn’t wearing a bra, and my cock lurched even harder than before, making a louder smack as it slammed against my body. My eyes were wide as I stared at Julia’s body, watching in rapt fascination as she ever-so-slowly opened the front of her shirt to finally reveal her large, perfect, succulent breasts.

Without warning, I hit the most ball-wrenching orgasm of my life, and without anyone even touching my hair-trigger cock. The first colossal blast of spew caught Julia right in the underside of her magnificent breasts, shattering against their gorgeous mass and painting the entirety of their lower half with a thick shellacking of my white hot spunk. Julia screamed in a mixture of surprise and pain, as my massive slug of cum had struck her in the undercarriage of her breasts so hard that it had stung.

Julia tried to scramble backwards, but was unable to avoid the next three mighty salvos of my splooge, which struck her in the belly, her left breast and shoulder, and then right in the middle of her beautiful face, coating it in a veritable mask of man chowder. She screamed again in fright and disgust, falling backward heavily on her pretty little ass as I continued to groan and buck and pound out one of the most mind-numbingly powerful orgasms of my young life.

And that’s how I technically lost my virginity.

I must have pumped out well over a score of impossibly thick and ridiculously long ribbons of nutmilk, all while Julia shrieked and scrambled to get out of the way of my testicular deluge. When my almighty orgasm finally came to a shuddering end, a furious and cum-dripping Julia screamed at me to get out of her house. I was almost terminally embarrassed and ashamed, and I put my clothes back on as quickly as possible, ignoring the fact that my own muscular torso and shoulders and arms were likewise coated with my hot, sticky ball goo, and I fled from her home as fast as my hugely muscular and insanely powerful legs could carry me.

Which is damn fast, I might add!

Anyway, after that incident with Julia, things changed for me. You would think that such an embarrassing and humiliating encounter would end up being a bad thing, but Julia’s ‘horror stories’ about me ended up turning me into a legend on campus. In fact, it was Julia’s reputation that took a hit, while everyone started treating me with respect and admiration. I was stunned by this turn of events, but I’d by lying if I didn’t admit that I enjoyed it. People started talking with me and wanting to be my friend, and even the normally jealous jocks took me under their wing and accepted me as one of their own.

Looking back I think it was the fact that I was so far and away more massive and masculine and virile than the other boys that they strangely ceased feeling threatened by me. I was so far out of their league that I wasn’t even competition anymore — I was the alpha stud that everyone wanted to be friends with, especially the jocks and athletes.

In fact, after sports practice or a big game, most of the guys liked to have a big jerk off session in the locker room, and I became something of a mascot to them all. They loved seeing me haul out my massive cock and humongous, pendulous balls, work my dick up to a raging boner, and jerk my bloated bull cock until I let loose with one of my by then legendary orgasms. They would all beat their meat as well, all of us pressed close together, hip to muscular hip with arms draped across our buddies’ shoulders, and watch me manhandle my huge meat cannon. Sometimes, one or more of the guys would even fondle and grope my fucking enormous balls, really working my load up to a frenzy. They’d all try to hold off until I blew my cookies, and then they would all let loose with their teen stud loads as well. I was so unnaturally virile, however, that I would still be blasting out my spunk long after the last guy had wrung the final drops of cum from his spent cock.

Yeah, those were awesome times!

********

In the meantime, I excelled at all manner of sports and athletics — football, wrestling, shot put, discus, and especially rugby — and dozens of talent scouts began trying to entice me to various prominent colleges with promises of full athletic scholarships, starting as far back as my sophomore year! But I knew even then that I wanted to serve my country and could always go to college after serving a tour of duty, and so I declined every college scout offer. Instead, immediately after obtaining my high school diploma, I went to the local Marine recruiter's office and enlisted.

The months spent in basic training were the most grueling in my life, but the focused and intense training had an extraordinary effect on my already hugely muscular body, and helped me pack another 90 POUNDS of thick, dense, quality muscle to my already massive frame. In less than a year after joining the Marines, I weighed a truly monstrous 360 pounds of huge, battle-hardened muscle! And with a less than 6% bodyfat ratio, every inch of my massive beefy self was lean, cut, and completely shredded. I knew I had to be the biggest guy in the Marines, probably in the whole dang military, and I was still growing!

But being so freaking enormous had its drawbacks, of course. I ate nearly five times the volume of food as a regular grunt, and all of my clothes and gear had to be special ordered every month to two to accommodate my rapid muscular growth. My body armor in particular had to be custom made, and apparently when the factory received the first order, they thought it was some kind of joke. But no, my shoulders really are three and a half feet wide, my waist really does measure only 34 inches, my neck really is more than 24 inches around, and my upper arms really do measure over 28 inches…cold! I had learned to just grin and bear the difficulties of getting through narrow doorways and fitting inside cramped military vehicles, because I really had no choice; my body wanted to be this big, and even the least amount of activity seemed to make my huge muscles grow even bigger.

Another consequence of being so enormously muscular was that it garnered a whole lot of attention. Most of that attention I enjoyed. Though I didn’t go out of my way to seek out attention, I often enjoyed the way that people would openly stare at me when I’d walk by, even back in the States, but especially here in the Middle East where no one came even CLOSE to being my size. People can’t help but gawk at me, I’m just that fucking big.

And I sure never had any shortage of offers for companionship, that was for sure — from women and men both, even guys in my own platoon! Of course, it probably helps that I am also a square-jawed, all-American Adonis. All big chin, square chiseled features, intensely blue eyes, thick blond hair — your basic jock super stud type.

I rarely took people up on those frequent offers for dates or sex, though. It wasn’t that I didn’t feel flattered by the attention or want to have sex, which I did, but I was at heart a relatively shy guy. I couldn’t help it that I was ruggedly and achingly handsome or built bigger than most super heavyweight bodybuilders — that’s just the cards I was dealt at birth, so I didn’t feel I was any better or any worse than anyone else. But I was just naturally a bit shy when it came to being intimate with someone, and having people view me as a pure sex object didn’t help matters. Besides which, the amount of meat I was packing in my military-issue briefs tended to scare away the few women I’d allowed to get close, and made the few men I’d been intimate with even more clingy and mad with lust for me.

Yeah, having a stud jock face and being built like a freaking tank was definitely a mixed bag, but overall, I couldn’t complain.

However, as I was about to learn that afternoon, some of the attention that I got for being so massively large and muscular was of the very decidedly negative variety...

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I grabbed my water canteen and poured some of the cool water over my face and my short, blond, military crew cut to help me deal with the scorching heat, running my hand over my beard-stubbled jaw to wash away the worst of the dust and grime that had accumulated there during the afternoon’s patrol detail. I'd lost count of the number of days we'd been assigned to guarding the same series of streets in Baghdad, and I had gradually become more relaxed because everything had been calm for so long. There hadn't been any violence in our part of the city for weeks, and things seemed to be dying down.

So I was totally unprepared for what happened that day.

As usual, our platoon spread out in pairs to patrol the streets. I was talking with my buddy about life back at home when suddenly a middle-aged Iraqi woman ran up to us, crying and shouting and pointing towards a nearby abandoned building. The frantic woman motioned for us to follow her. My partner motioned for two other soldiers at the end of the road to join us and to provide us with backup, and then we cautiously followed her into the building. We weaved our way through the derelict dwelling, following the running woman, and arrived at the last room in the hall where we found two American soldiers laying on the floor, apparently wounded and unconscious. My partner told one of the other Marines to get a medic response unit immediately, and then he directed me to lead the still screaming and crying woman into an adjoining room.

I gently took the sobbing and inconsolable woman by the elbow and lead her out of the room. We walked a short distance down the trash and rubble strewn hallway, and then the woman suddenly turned her tear-streaked face towards me and pointed fearfully toward a closed door behind me. At her direction and insistence, I opened the door to find a stairway leading down into a basement shrouded in utter darkness. I couldn’t understand the woman's Arabic, but it was clear that she wanted me to go down into the basement, but was scared to lead the way. I nodded my understanding, trying to gently reassure the shaken woman, and I readied my weapon and proceeded down the stairs.

I could barely see a thing, as the only light was coming from the dimly-lit hallway behind me. I proceeded most of the way down the stairs before I heard movement behind me. The woman had waited until I was nearly at the bottom of the stairs before slamming the door shut, plunging the stairs into pitch black darkness and leaving me stranded in the dark chamber.

I instantly realized that I had been tricked.

I suddenly heard movement all around me, and before I could react, the blindingly bright lights in the basement were turned on, and I could feel the cold metal of the business end of a rifle barrel pressed tight against my left temple. The gun was held by held by a young and angry-looking Iraqi man, dressed in the sand-colored camouflage of the enemy insurgents. My darting eyes quickly picked out at least a dozen similarly-dressed young men encircling me in the room, all with their weapons trained on me. I immediately dropped my weapon and slowly raised my hands in surrender. This was bad; very, very bad!

Without turning my head, I got my first good look at the guy holding a gun to my head, and I think my heart may have skipped a beat. The young man couldn’t have been more than a year or two older than me, and he was one of the most devastatingly handsome men I had ever seen. He managed to be both beautiful and intensely masculine at the same time, with strong and finely-wrought features, thick and wavy black hair worn relatively short, and the most soulful brown eyes I had ever seen, framed by thick dark lashes. This young stud looked like a Middle Eastern matinee idol! I could feel my massive cock twitch in my fatigues as I viscerally reacted to the young man’s stunningly handsome face.

He was on the tall side for a typical Iraqi at about 5’10” or 5’11”, and he had a damn fine body on him. I’m an excellent judge of a man’s weight and size, even through clothes, and I pegged him at around 210 or 220 pounds, an impressive weight for a young man of his height. Everything about the swarthy lad was intensely beautiful and erotic to me, and despite the fact that he was holding a gun to my head, I realized that I was becoming overwhelmed with lust for the handsome lad. Go figure, right! Talk about your bad timing!

While the young and achingly, undeniably handsome Iraqi man kept his rifle aimed at my head, several of the other men came forward and began to roughly take my gear away from me -- my pack, my knife, my helmet, my body armor -- leaving me with just my boots, combat pants, and the sweat-stained t-shirt stretched tight across my massive shoulders and chest.

"What do you want?" I nervously but calmly asked, not knowing if they would even understand a single word I was saying. My deep voice made strange echoes in the large and mostly empty room.

The young man with the rifle pointed at my head scornfully laughed, and then spoke in accented but very clear English, "It seems like you Americans always seem to know what we want. Or should I say, you always seem to know what you want, and how to make it appear that we want it as well."

He glanced at his men and then back at me. "We want to take out our anger and frustration towards the infidel Americans that have invaded our country. We want to make an example out of one of the jarhead American Marines. Our spies spotted you the moment you entered our territory several months ago, and we knew that a huge, muscular soldier like yourself would make an excellent target. We knew that if we could bring down the biggest, toughest, and mightiest of the Marines, a true symbol of American power and strength, then it would be a huge blow to your troop morale. So we tracked your movements for weeks, planning how best to trap you. And now that we have you, we're going to make you suffer for all of the injustices that your people have brought upon our land."

Without a word of warning, the young man stepped boldly forward and used the butt of his heavy rifle to bash me right in my balls! The butt struck me square in the right bollock, crushing my huge testicle against my crotch in an explosion of blinding pain.

Now I have a massive pair of nuts, a true set of "bull balls", and I pride myself on how strong and tough my huge nuts are. I had played rough contact sports like football and rugby for all four years of high school, and had never worn a protective cup for any practice or any game. I didn’t have a death wish, I simply couldn’t find any that were remotely big enough to protect my goods, and no company would take my special order request as they all thought I was playing some kind of weird joke. So over the years, I had taken countless blows to my big unprotected spuds. In fact, once word of my phenomenal size spread beyond my own high school, players on opposing teams would make every effort to crash into my balls, or kick or knee or punch or grab them, at every opportunity. That’s how I had learned that I have unusually tough, dense, and resilient balls, which were only further toughened by all those years of abuse on the playing field.

So when you’ve had a 250-pound defensive lineman charge across the field toward you and slam their armored shoulder directly into your unprotected bollocks at full speed, and you can STILL shake it off and charge the remaining 70 yards for a touchdown, you know you can handle some serious nut pain.

The hammer blow to my bloated right bollock caught me completely by surprise, and my breath exploded from my lungs in a big ‘WHOOSH!’ My muscular abs immediately clenched into a set of 8 deeply etched cobblestones that were clearly visible through my thin, sweat-stained t-shirt, but I didn’t give the young man any other reaction. Any other man would have been instantly dropped to his knees by the severity of the blow, and one of his testicles likely shattered in the process, but I just breathed through the pain and stayed upright. It was going to take a hell of a lot more than THAT to drop me to the floor!

The young man’s gorgeous lips twisted into a smirk and he said, "It seems your GI balls are as tough as the rest of your oversized body. Very impressive! Very impressive indeed! That's good, because we have a whole host of tortures awaiting you, and I wouldn't want your delicate Yankee balls to break too soon."

He then shouted some orders to the other men in Arabic, and I very quickly found my arms bound behind my back and a blindfold placed over my eyes. Then they began blindly marching through the underground corridors and sewers of Baghdad.

I couldn't tell you how long I was led through the dark. Thirty minutes, an hour, maybe more? All I know is that I was terrified, and I knew that all of my muscle and bulk meant nothing up against more than a dozen men armed with semi-automatic weapons. I wondered how long it would take my platoon to figure out that I had gone missing, and if they would have any chance of ever finding me in the mazes and warrens of Baghdad's vast undercity.

Finally, we stopped marching and the blindfold was removed from my eyes. I had to blink back the sudden glare of the sharp electric lights, but as my deep blue eyes quickly adjusted, I saw that I was in a large underground chamber filled with crates and sacks and weapons, and that there were now dozens of men coldly eying me with hatred and loathing.

Things had definitely gone from bad to worse.

The handsome young soldier was standing in front of me once again. "Strip down to your shirt and underpants!" he ordered, and I moved quickly to comply as I realized that I didn't have much of a choice.

The men in the room were obviously amazed by my size, even though they tried hard not to show it. I was half a head taller than anyone else in the room, and easily weighed as much as any two of the men put together. They tried not to be obvious, but I could see many of them trying not to stare at the way my sweat-drenched t-shirt stretched tight across my thick and incredibly beefy chest and my more-than-a-yard-wide shoulders, or the way the muscles of my gargantuan arms bulged and flexed as I moved to undress. They had clearly never seen anyone even remotely approaching my size before, so I decided to give these guys a bit of a show. Hell, if they were about to torture and kill me anyway, I figured I could at least make them feel inadequate about themselves before they snuffed me.

I bent over to unlace my boots, knowing that my huge back must be flaring incredibly wide. I worked off my oversized boots (again, my size 18 combat boots had to be special ordered) and then my socks, and then I started undoing my pants. I unbuckled and unzipped my pants and took them off, revealing my enormous and powerfully muscular legs that were every bit a match for sheer size and muscle volume as my awesome upper body. I was left in only my undersized t-shirt and my tight military boxer briefs. I noticed right away that nearly all of the men could not stop looking at the humongous bulge at the front of my briefs. The tight boxer briefs left little to the imagination, and every curve of my huge flaccid cock and enormous, juicy American balls was clearly visible through the thin cotton material.

Like I said, I’m hung huge, and I was sure these men had never seen anything remotely approaching the size of the meat and potatoes I had packed in my shorts.

The handsome stranger approached me, absently pushing my boots and pants away from me with his foot. He began to circle around me and said, "You Americans think you are everything, with your big worked out chests and bulging muscles. You feel especially superior when you carry big balls and a big cock, don't you? Well, in this part of town, if you want to keep your balls, you need to earn them!"

WHAM!!!

With that, he quickly swung his knee right into my massive bulge, crushing both of my nuts against my pelvis. “UNH!” I was prepared for the blow this time, and I held my back straight and my arms at my side, stoically absorbing the brutal low blow without doing much more than tensing my big muscles. I held on to the pain that was spreading throughout my cock and balls, and let the young punk see the defiance burning in my eyes.

Several guys grabbed me, hauled me over against one of the walls, and handcuffed me to some heavy industrial pipes, big cast iron tubes that even I would have no chance of breaking. They made sure my huge arms and muscular legs were held wide apart, rendering my awesome strength useless, and leaving me completely vulnerable and at my captors' mercy.

"Today is your most unlucky day, you oversized American soldier," the handsome young man said. He pulled out a big knife and brandished the sharp blade in front of my own handsome face before using it to start slicing my sweat stained t-shirt off of me. He slid the cold blade against my hot, sweat-slicked skin, but was very careful not to cut me. Soon, my broad, muscled chest and washboard abs were being displayed to all of the men.

The Iraqi soldier stepped back to admire his handiwork — and my phenomenally muscular body — and then smiled evilly and shouted at his friends, "I will go first!" He looked at me and gave me a cruel smile. He stepped forward and raised both hands to start caressing and forcefully kneading my huge chest. My chest is incredibly broad and phenomenally deep, with each of my twin pecs measuring just over 6 inches thick, so there was certainly a lot for him to grab. The thick sheen of sweat let his calloused hands glide easily over my hairy pecs and my equally hairy abs. He threw a couple of hard punches into my gigantic pecs, which didn’t even dent in the slightest. His hands soon found my big, eraser-head nipples and began to pinch and squeeze them until they were big, rock hard pebbles of sensitive man tit flesh. He leaned forward and sucked one of my swollen nipples into his hot mouth, and an electric jolt of pleasure made my whole body shudder.

He continued sucking my big nipple for several minutes, and I could feel my huge python of a cock begin to stir in my shorts. I began to blush in shame, knowing that my traitorous cock was about to betray me to my cruel captors.

The handsome Iraqi suddenly bit deep into my diamond-hard nipple, causing me to holler in pain and surprise. He simultaneously brought his knee up once again into my crotch, slamming his solid leg home into my already throbbing balls.

WHAM!!!

WHAM!!! WHAM!!! WHAM!!!

Again and again and again, he bit into my tortured tit and slammed his knee into my balls, and he showed no signs of stopping.

WHAM!!! WHAM!!! WHAM!!!

Again and again and again, he was hammering my huge balls non stop while using my thick nipple as a chew toy. He alternated between grinding my nipple to paste with his molars and trying to bite it clean off with his incisors, and the pain was sharp and brutal...but nothing compared to the explosions of agony erupting over and over again in my balls.

WHAM!!! WHAM!!! WHAM!!!

Every time he bit my nipple, it seemed he struck harder and harder at my poor balls. The thin cotton fabric of my boxer briefs did absolutely nothing to shield my huge bollocks from every ounce of force behind each blow. I felt a new wave of agony each time his knee met my balls and smashed them against my pelvis, harder and harder and harder each time. It felt like they were going to explode under the brutal pummeling, but like I said, my nuts were supremely tough, and they stoically endured this tremendous abuse, bouncing back to their healthy egg shape after each thrust of the young man's bony knee.

WHAM!!! WHAM!!! WHAM!!! WHAM!!! WHAM!!!

I quickly lost track of how many blows he landed in my crotch, and the minutes stretched on like an eternity. But at some point, he tired of my first nipple and went for my other one, and began using his other leg to continue the brutal pummeling of my huge man nuts.

WHAM!!! WHAM!!! WHAM!!! WHAM!!! WHAM!!!

I was continuously bellowing in agony, my hugely muscular body thrashing against my bindings, much to the obvious enjoyment of the men crowded in the big room. I was helpless against the onslaught, and I wondered how long my beefy bull balls could hold out under such terrible abuse. Any other man’s testicles would have long since been reduced to mush under such a brutal assault, but even my mighty bollocks weren’t invincible, and I feared that my handsome Iraqi torturer was going to render my massive baby makers into pureed baby food!

WHAM!!! WHAM!!! WHAM!!! WHAM!!! WHAM!!!

The pain was so gut wrenching and intense that I could feel vomit starting to rise in my throat. The young man could sense that I was about to hurl, and so he gave my left tit one last chomping bite while rapidly slamming his knee six times into my balls.

WHAM!!!WHAM!!!WHAM!!!WHAM!!!WHAM!!!WHAM!!!

He then jumped out of the way just as my guts heaved, and I puked out my lunch onto the cold, stone floor. My clenching belly must have made quite a sight as my chiseled abdominals violently flexed and contracted and I emptied the entire contents of my stomach on the ground.

They let me hang there for a few moments, my head droop in temporary exhaustion, my sweat soaked body flexing and bulging as I struggled to regain my breath. It felt like someone was rhythmically striking my balls with a big hammer, for each heartbeat caused my balls to throb in unbelievable agony. Oh god, I knew I was in very deep trouble.

I wasn't given very long to recover before a second guy came up to me. He had a length of iron pipe in his hand, about two feet long, and he waved it menacingly in front of me. Then he swung it up into my abs, HARD, and the beefy slap of metal on flesh echoed across the room.

WHAP!!!

The blow was painful, but nothing like the brutal punishment I had so recently endured. Besides, my abdominal muscles are like a wall of corrugated steel even when I wasn't flexing them, and with a good flex, that steel pipe just bounced off my flesh without making even the slightest dent.

That didn't deter the guy, though, and he proceeded to wail upon my midsection, striking from all angles, and even slamming the pipe into the small of my back and my kidneys in a futile effort to cause me serious pain.

WHAP!!! WHAP!!! WHAP!!! WHAP!!! WHAP!!! WHAP!!!

After 5 or 10 minutes of this ultimately futile and pointless attempt at punishment, I noticed that each swing he took was starting to be aimed lower and lower. He had started out striking my upper abs, right beneath the dramatic overhang of my massive pecs, and then the middle abs, and then the lower abs. Each time, my incredibly powerful muscles effortlessly rebuffed even the most powerful blow. If I wasn’t so aware of the dire danger I was in, I might have even become bored of this weak attempt at abuse.

I soon became terrified, however, once I realized that the grinning Iraqi wasn’t going to stop at my lower abs. He struck me in my V area — my deep and exquisitely etched ‘cum gutters’ as I’ve heard my platoon mates call them — again and again, both sides, pummeling the narrowest part of my muscular waist and rock solid midsection before traveling lower still, aiming for my most vulnerable bits.

The moment I most dreaded finally came. The iron pipe came into solid contact with the base of my huge, flaccid cock with a beefy “SMACK!”

“AAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!” I bellowed as I felt the iron strike the root of my astoundingly thick cock. But he didn't pause, and he struck my cock again, and then again and again and again, indiscriminately striking the root, the shaft, and even the cotton-clad head of my huge cock. The pain was unreal.

WHACK!!! WHACK!!! WHACK!!! WHACK!!! WHACK!!!

And then the true horror came as he struck lower still, landing the lead pipe directly into my tender and sensitive balls.

WHOMP!!!

The blinding pain was even worse than the previous man's knee blows, if that's possible, and my bellows of agony took on greater volume and urgency. The cruel man aimed differently each time, striking my huge defenseless balls again and again from every conceivable angle.

WHOMP!!! WHOMP!!! WHOMP!!! WHOMP!!! WHOMP!!!

“FUUUUCK!!!” I shouted, pulling on my bindings so hard that I could feel the metal of the cuffs digging into my beefy wrists and ankles. The pain was real and immediate and intense, and my whole world narrowed down to the atomic holocaust of pain in my battered balls.

WHOMP!!! WHOMP!!! WHOMP!!! WHOMP!!! WHOMP!!!

Again, I quickly lost track of the time and the number of blows, and focused on just trying to endure and survive the unimaginable pain. Tears were soon streaming from my eyes, and my previous stoicism was a thing of the past. I was now begging and pleading for him to stop, but my cries fell on deaf ears.

Of course, the men all found my begging and pleading highly amusing, and they laughed at me and taunted me as the assailant rained down terrific and destructive abuse on my screaming nuts. I thought I would pass out from the pain, and in fact wished desperately to black out, but unfortunately for me I'm one tough son of a bitch, so I was forced to endure every incredibly painful and devastating blow.

WHOMP!!! WHOMP!!! WHOMP!!! WHOMP!!! WHOMP!!!

Finally, after a few dozen more well-placed strikes that threatened to burst my huge balls wide open, my second assailant was satisfied and stepped back into the crowd.

The third guy quickly came up to me, spat in my face, and wasted no time as he began punching my underwear-clad nuts with his big hairy fists.