Testicle Festival: Part One

Get ready for my first two part story! 

Our tale follows a young man who travels to a small town to attend a Testicle Festival; a tradition in rural America where a country folk drink, celebrate and eat tons of bull testicles! Our main character may or may not be hoping that he can be more than just a casual observer! Enjoy!

*Please note. Part One does describe the castration of an bull using a burdizzo. This is mostly used to establish erotic tension between two men and set up Part Two, but I wanted to give fair warning.  

Testicle Festival: Part 1

By: Bull2Steer

I must have been some sort of crazy, doing things the way I did. After all, no sane person would travel across several states to a small, redneck town to celebrate something as, “nuts,” as something called a Testicle Festival, and certainly not with the hope of being part of the main event.

 

I had told my friends and family a poorly crafted story about wanting to go on a camping trip to, “get away from it all,” and, “disconnect from technology for a weekend.”  I lied and told everyone I’d be going with a group of old acquaintances from my hometown, and that’d I’d only be gone a couple days and nights. In reality, I’d looked up the dates for this event months prior and gotten the time off of work, even taking a couple days extra off, just in case I got my wish and needed to recover.

Fast forward to me standing in a rowdy crowd of farmers, ranch hands and other salt-of-the-earth types, all of whom were laughing, cheering and drinking heavily. We were all here for the same purpose; to enjoy the annual Testicle Festival, a celebration lasting several days where everyone in town would get together to socialize and chow down on, “Rocky Mountain Oysters,” which was a fancy way to say that we’d all be eating our weight in fresh-cut bull testicles.

 

The organizers of the event promised that the weekend would be, “Fun, Filling and Educational for the Whole Family,” on all of their flyers. The pamphlets were also filled with cheeky lines like, “Hold onto your balls! Live demos! Watch as bulls become steers!”

I found myself at one of these demos, showing up early in my excitement. As the show started, people gathered around a large, gated area with a pacing bull inside. He was a literal ton of solid muscle, walking around his pen, ears flicking in agitation. I couldn’t help but notice the bull’s giant testicles swinging between his legs as he walked. They were roughly the size of coconuts and looked just as dense. There weren’t very many people around the pen yet, so I allowed myself to gaze directly at the heavy sac for several minutes as I imagined what it was like to boast such a heavy pair of balls.

 

As it got closer to showtime, several workers filed into the pen. The bull gave a few plaintiff snorts but didn’t make much of a fuss as the small group of men guided him to the center of the gated area, before securing each of his feet to a few widespread stakes that were spread on a concrete slab.

 

Once this was finished, an older ranch hand, probably in his early 50’s walked up right next to the captive bull. He sported a head of salt and pepper hair, with a matching beard, dressed in a pair of faded blue jeans that were so time worn that the denim had thinned, leaving little of the man’s ample bulge to the imagination. He also wore a pair of heavy work boots and a dusty flannel shirt that was unbuttoned halfway, allowing a peak of his extremely thick chest hair. Despite the greys in his hair and beard, his chest was covered in dense, black fur. His eyes were bright with excitement, and he wore an easy welcoming smile. He was carrying a microphone with him, and he began loudly calling guests over to watch the live, “steering,” of a bull, his voice booming for the crowd, thick with country drawl. As people gathered for the show, he began warming us up with fun facts about adult bulls…

“When a young calf hits maturity, he can pump out about 10 to 20 million sperm cells a week!” Announced the ranch hand with a bright smile. “And once he fully matures in a proud bull, his oysters can pump out as much as 40 to 60 million sperm in that same time!”

“I wish my husband could keep up with that pace!” Came the voice of a loud and clearly drunk woman near the middle of the crowd. We all laughed loudly at the crass joke, except for her husband next to her, who was obviously embarrassed and trying to think up a good defense for his manhood. He couldn’t have been more than 21, barely sprouting a mustache. His adorable face turned beet red, as he became flustered by all the laughter at his manhood. Seeing him blush made the crowd laugh even harder.

The ruggedly handsome host didn’t miss a beat. “Oh, don’t feel bad, young buck! Your boys are going to put in much more work than this fella’ here! After all, he’s about to be steered, and you’re not!” We all laughed even harder at this, including the slightly emasculated young man, whose face went from a look of shame, to one of pride, as he relished that his manhood would be superior to the bull soon.

 

“Now gather around folks, get as close to the gate as you can. You don’t wanna miss a second of this big guy’s last moments as a stud! I took this invitation to heart and got right up next to the edge of the gate, actually standing on the bottom rung of the fence so I could lean over and get a better view.

“Now over the years, castration has been performed in many ways on every form of beast, including goats, horses, bulls and even human males.” Most of the guys in the audience made a show of groaning and covering their bulging crotches. I followed suit, although I was mostly trying to cover the fact that I was starting to get stiff in my jeans. I let out a few fake chuckles with the rest of the men in the crowd, as I took a big swig of my beer to distract myself.

“Now, throughout this weekend, you’ll get the chance to see lots of different methods for steering a bull. If you go to all of our demos this weekend, you’ll see them cut out medically, as well as injected to chemically castrate the animal, and one randomly selected bull will even get his nuts done by an elastrator! For you city folk, that’s a tool that puts a strong rubber band around a pair of balls. It slowly chokes the blood supply out of the male’s sack until it’s ready to be cut off, or in extreme cases just left on till they wither away, and his boys fall off on their own!” He paused for a moment to let the different methods of unmanning sink into his captive audience. Several of the men around me made a show of crossing their legs in sympathy. Meanwhile, I was having a very different response, and I could feel my cock stiffening and twitching in my drawers.

“But right now, folks, I’m going to show you my favorite way to get the job done, the burdizzo.” As he spoke, the ranch hand presented a tool from behind his back, that he had must have slipped into his back beltloops beforehand, holding it high above his head to make sure we could get a good look. The tool was roughly three feet long, and looked like two slim handles that were secured near the top with a screw, leading up to a closed, rounded shape. Eager to play to the crowd and get his point across, he then reached his other hand up and grabbed the other handle, before pulling them apart. Suddenly, the handles separated, and so did the rounded shape at the top. Suddenly, we were all looking at the obvious jaws of a vicious looking clamp.

There were a few gasps from the crowd from those who had never seen the tool before, while most of the locals just chuckled. I heard one gruff male voice say, “damn, the stud’s gonna get clamped? That’s a rough way to get steered.” The blunt description of what was about to happen made my stiffening rod start drooling in my pants. I was so turned on, but also terrified someone would notice. I downed the rest of my beer as I tried to casually adjust myself and the display continued.

 

“Now, it may seem harsh,” the ranch hand continued. “But it’s actually one of the safer methods! This handy tool is easy to use, only takes a few minutes, and presents minimal danger to the bull!”

“Except for his nuts!” Yelled a man in the back. More laughter erupted at the expense of the soon-to-be steer.

“Well, you’re not wrong there, bud! But instead of talking about it, how about I just show you! But I need both hands for that, so I think I need a volunteer! Anyone?”

 

I don’t even remember raising my hand. My mind went completely blank, and the next thing I knew, I was standing right next to the achingly handsome daddy rancher, and the two-thousand-pound bull that was about to be nutted. There was a loud round of applause and encouraging hollers, the onlookers obviously pleased with the crowd participation.

“What a great sport, thanks for the help, stud! Now, all I need you to do is hold the mic right by my face, okay? Don’t move it till I say so. I nodded dumbly, still unaware of how I had found myself in this situation. He flashed me a quick, sly bearded grin as he handed me the mic, and I felt my cock pulse in my jeans again as our eyes locked. To my credit, I followed his direction and kept the microphone pointed as his face as he started working, all the while still addressing the crowd.

“Now, ladies and gentlemen, the important thing here is to be thorough. What we want the burdizzo to do is clamp off of the male’s spermatic chords. If you see here, Titus here has nice, thick vas deferens and other chords that lead from the top of his hefty oysters, and lead through his plumbing and connect to his member. I need to make sure I get all of this fella’s chords in one go, because if I miss even a few, he might still be able to breed, and we can’t have that!” As he spoke, I watched in fascination as his strong, thick fingers moved quickly and firmly to move the thick tubes growing from the top of the bull’s fat left testicle. The man had masculine, powerful hands, but his fingers moved with incredible dexterity to manipulate the doomed tissues. Within twenty seconds, he had managed to push all of the hefty nutcords to one side of the bull’s sack. He flashed me another quick grin as he saw me staring.

“Okay now, bud. This is the important part. I need you to hold the mic right up next to his ball. If you can do that for me, you won’t be next for the clamp!” He winked up at me, as the crowd laughed at his lighthearted jab. Meanwhile, I thought I was going to faint from the blood rushing to my cock. I thought I was going to flood my shorts with cum right there. Luckily, I barely managed to keep my composure, and do as I was directed. I gripped the microphone tightly in my sweaty palm as I inched it closer to the bull’s scrotum. The ranch hand suddenly grabbed my wrist and firmly guided it closer, making sure I was positioned correctly, the microphone now mere inches away from the bull’s bundled and trapped ball chords.

“There ya go, bud. Perfect. You get to stay a bull another day!” He laughed. “Now, like I said folks, the burdizzo is one of the more fool-proof methods of castration. Because not only is it safer and more exact than other methods…” He let himself trail off for a moment as he then took the open clamp in one hand and began to position it. After just a couple moments, he had perfectly positioned the tool so that both sides of the jaws were gently closed over the bull’s sensitive sack. It wasn’t enough to damage anything but was enough to keep the chords in place and free up his other hand, which grabbed the bottom handle. He gave the crowd another sly smile. “But you can even hear the results!”

Suddenly, I watched in awe as he slammed the handles shut in a blur. And then I heard it, and because of the microphone I was holding, so did everyone else.

 

*CRUNCH*

The sick, squelching sound of the bull’s nut chords being crunched shut rang out for everyone in the audience. The bull tried to kick in vain as it felt half of its manhood crushed forever. I saw several men reach for their own chords in sympathy, and for some of them, it wasn’t a joke this time. They gasped, momentarily stunned, before gently gripping their own soft ball bags through their jeans, thankful they still had working nuts between their legs.

My brain had gone on overload, barely able to comprehend that I was now rock hard in front of a crowd of people. In my head, I heard the loud crunch echoing in my skull, the audible proof that I’d just watched a testicle die. The hairy stud below me interrupted my thoughts.

 

“And just like that, Titus is half the bull he was! But not time to rest, folks. I need this big guy’s big guys to die. Can’t having a destined steer breeding, can we?” As he said this, I realized that his steely eyes were locked on me, like he was staring directly into my soul. Our eyes locked, his dark grey eyes boring into me as he smiled. I remember trying to convince myself that he couldn’t be talking to me; that I imagined it in my lust. But I kept staring directly into his eyes, unable to break his charming yet assertive gaze.

“You’re doing great, city boy. Just one more ball and you’re all done!” His eyes were still locked on mine as he said, this. He then reached down and presented another burdizzo from the other side of his belt loop. At this point I glanced down and realized that he had just let the other clamp hang off the bull’s doomed nut, they heavy tool swinging from the plump ball bag as it continued its work of killing the testicle in its jaws.

He wasted no time, getting to work on the other side. In a flash, he had the chords of the right ball bundled, and the second burdizzo was positioned, just as the first had been. “One more time, everyone! Listen close as a new steer is born!”

*Crunch*

The sick sound issuing from the bull… I mean steer’s sack repeated as the right nut’s chords were clamped and destroyed. Although I didn’t see the clamp closed this time. The ranch hand’s gaze hadn’t left mine. He’d kept eye contact with me the entire time he finished off the bull. I saw his hand drop discreetly, giving a glancing brush over his bulging crotch, giving it a quick squeeze as his bearded smile widened even further. Suddenly, he stood up and resumed addressing the crowd.

“And that’s how it’s done folks! In a few minutes, Titus’s testicles will fully die on the vine, and the clamps can be removed! After a while, his heavy bull balls will begin to shrivel and die in the bag, and eventually will be absorbed back into his body, and he will live a long, healthy, sexless life!”

There was wild applause at the public castration of the bull. Everyone was cheering for the burly daddy ranch hand who had just proved his manhood over the bull. I may have imagined it, but I thought I could see more than a few men tenting in their pants as they cheered.

“And let’s hear it for our brave volunteer! He did such a great job! Give him a hand!” The crowd continued to holler and cheer for us and the entertaining display.”

My head was swimming from the overstimulation. I knew my imagination had run wild during the display, imagining the ranch hand flirting with me, and threatening my balls while he neutered the bull. I needed to get myself under control and away from all of these people immediately. I took a step forward to leave, before I felt a strong grip on my left shoulder, pulling me backwards. Suddenly, I could feel the ranch hand’s breath on the back of my neck, and he was so close I could feel his beard and mustache tickling my ear. He spoke low, and just loud enough for me to hear, his words masked by the raucous hollers of the crowd.

“There’s no need to be jealous of Titus, boy. We’ll be clamping plenty more chords before this is over.” I felt a gasp catch in my throat. This was more of my imagination, or just a joke at my expense. I tried to come up with a clever rebuttal or laugh it off… but his grip got firmer, as did his tone.

“No need to play coy, son. I’ve been doing this for years. I know a steer when I see one, and you my boy, are a steer.” As he said this, he pressed his body closer to mine as he continued to wave to the crowd and smile. He was so close to me that I could feel his chest hair pressing through the fabric of my shirt. Even more surprising was feeling his enormous bulge pressed against me, and feeling it stiffen to diamond hardness. I felt it stiffen with his heartbeat, the blood pumping steadily to his manhood. After just a few seconds, it felt like a steel club was grinding into my backside.

 

“We both know you need fixed, boy. Even your own cock knows.” He said, glancing at the straining bulge in my own jeans. “I have to clean up Titus’s dead nuts and get him put away. But you’ll meet me right back here in one hour, won’t you?” My cock visibly jumped in response.

“That’s what I thought. See you soon.”

I knew without a doubt that I wasn’t leaving this weekend the same way I came in.

Balls Out at Blackout

 

Balls Out at Blackout
By: Bull2Steer

It was a small fairly nondescript building; just a dark grey rectangle with no windows to speak of, sitting quietly in the middle of the dark parking lot. It could have been an office or a warehouse, but alas, it was something much more fun than that. A lone beagle in a well-worn leather jacket strode confidently towards the door. His paw rested on the handle for a moment before pulling it open, the quiet night being abruptly shattered by a cacophony of grunts, moans and growls. A wall of pungent aromas slammed into the beagle’s nose; sweat dripping off bodies, cigars being lit, the sweet smell of cum and the faintest hint of piss. The lone canine grinned before he pushed through the doorway. Tonight was going to be fun.

Raunch was used to this place, of course. It was the monthly, “blackout,” party at his local haunt. The lights were turned off, the drinks prices were hiked up a couple bucks, and there were curtains hung everywhere to give a bit of privacy and anonymity. The beagle was completely comfortable in this suck-and-fuck environment, shedding his jacket and jeans at the coat check, leaving only a leather harness over his chest, a pair of work boots and a jockstrap that barely covered his meaty pouch. Raunch walked up to the bartender with a warm smile, ordering a whiskey on the rocks before starting his hunt.

Nursing his drink, the svelte fur panned across the crowd, squinting his eyes as they adjusted to the lack of light. He recognized the silhouettes of some of the regular patrons, as well as a slew of randoms that probably only show up to party nights. In the dark, he could see little subs, muscled gogo dancers and a couple furs having a chat as their dick was sucked by a very eager fox. All of this was a fun sight for Raunch, but not was he was looking for. Boredly, he sipped his drink as his gaze drifted back and forth across the crowd, searching; suddenly he saw exactly what he’d been hoping for.

In the very back corner of the bar, sat a large leather chair meant for patrons who wanted to prop their feet up and have their boots polished. There was one, dim lamp lighting the area, and although faint, there was the unmistakable outline of a truly enormous bear. Raunch felt his dick twitch ever so slightly as he downed the rest of his whiskey and made his way over.

The beagle tried to walk over slowly, containing his excitement, if only slightly, although he couldn’t suppress a coy smile as he locked eyes with the bear. The much larger fur grunted loudly and shifted in his seat before speaking. “Where do you think you’re going with such a shit-eating grin, boy?” Obviously, this guy was pretty confident; Raunch could play to that, and take advantage. “Well, I was about to go take a leak, Sir… but I couldn’t help but look at you on my way there,” the beagle mused, trying to sound flirty and submissive. “Well, of course you can’t help but look, boy. Obviously. Little bitches like you can’t seem to help it.” The bear’s voice was like old gravel, deep and raspy. “Yes, Sir. I can see why… you’re so masculine and sexy… I really do like to look… I hope that’s okay, Sir.” Raunch kept his eyes down, playing coy, eyes darting up occasionally to, “sneak,” a peak at the bear. For what it was worth, he really did like what he saw.

The bear truly was massive, in every sense of the word. Even in the dark, Raunch would see that the fur’s feet were huge, even by bear standards. His legs, arms and chest were fairly defined, and his stomach was toned under a healthy layer of fat. What he really saw though, was what was between the ursine’s legs. Like the beagle, he was also sporting a jockstrap. However, if Raunch had a plump package, the larger fur was packing an entire ham down there. He could clearly make out the shape of a jaw-breakingly thick cock, and mammoth testicles, each clearly defined and straining the fabric. Furthermore, it was obvious this beast was not shy about getting piss or cum in his jock. The smell wafted into Raunches nose, the musk almost dropping him to his knees. The bear shifted in his seat, putting both hands behind his head, flexing his arms and exposing his furry pits before speaking again.

“Looking is nice, but it doesn’t get my rocks off, whelp. If you really want to look so fuckin’ bad, then get your ass over here and worship a real male’s body,” he growled. “And you’ll call me Master, bitch.” Raunch held back a laugh, but didn’t wait to be told twice; his mark wanted attention, and he was happy to oblige. In a flash, the beagle was nose deep in Master’s pits, huffing the intoxicating scent deep into his sensitive nose, and licking up potent ursine sweat. As he did so, he made sure his paws weren’t idle, using one paw to play with bear’s meaty nipples, the other rubbing firmly up and down his chest and stomach, inching closer and closer to his giganting package. His efforts were not going unnoticed, as Master grunted and moaned deeply, cock beginning to stiffen down below. “You really know what you’re doing, slut. Most subs around here barely know their way around a cock. I might just make you my regular fuck toy.”

Another suppressed chuckle. This was the beagle’s cue.

“You really think so, Master? I’d be honored to serve such a massive stud. There’s a secret place I know in the bar. We could go there and have more fun… if it pleases you, Master.” The beagle was all too happy to make it, “Master’s,” idea to get away. “Get to it, bitch. Show me, and if it's good enough for me, I might just fill your little cunt tonight with my Alpha seed.” Raunch rolled his eyes when he was sure the bear couldn’t see him. To be honest, if he wanted a quick fuck, this guy might be his type. Dumb and hung had a time and a place, but tonight he had other plans for the dominant fur. “Come this way, Master. I’m sure you’re going to love it!”

Raunch guided Master past the crowd of furs in various states of fucking, beyond the dark curtains until they were at the opposite end of the bar. There, they found a plain looking door with a large, foreboding lock on it and an, "Employees Only," sign on the door frame. The flirty beagle winked at the towering bear as he fished around his jock and found a key. He inserted it in the door before swinging it open and gesturing the larger fur inside. “I’m a regular here, so the owner lets me use this room as long as he’s not in the middle of one of his marathon fuck sessions. I think we can make much better use of it, though.” The two of them ducked inside, a soft click sounding as the door locked behind them.

Inside, the room was small and fairly barren, the only piece of furniture being an adjustable fuck bench that could double as a seat. “Now this is what I’m talking about! Good job, slut. This will be perfect to claim your ass and make it good for something!” Master was clearly ready to go, cock beginning to bulge obscenely in the jock,to poor undergarment struggling to hold its heavy contents. The masculine male sauntered over to the seat, sliding off the jock and letting it fall to the ground before plopping firmly down on the seat, his stiffening dick now swinging proudly in the open air a confident grin painted on his face. If Raunch thought the bear smelled powerful before, it was nothing compared to the musk coming off his crotch now. It was a pungent smack to his senses consisting of precum, piss and at least three days without a shower. The beagle’s knot acted of its own accord and went full mast almost instantly. It took everything in his power not to jump on the bear’s towering dick and go to town, but he was too close to get distracted now.

“Oh my god, Master. Your cock is amazing,” the dog complimented as he eagerly stripped out of his own  jockstrap. “I want to ride it and have you mark my cunt with your Alpha load. Please, let me worship your pits and ride you!” Raunch was worried he was overselling his excitement, but to his relief, the prideful Master raised his arms above his head once more to show off another powerful, boastful flex. That was all the opportunity he needed.

Raunch covered the distance of the room in a blur, grabbing the paws of his new, “Master,” and pushing backward; hard. There was a loud ‘click’ behind the ursine’s head. “Wha-?" the bear questioned. Before he'd even finished the word, the beagle had moved down to his enormous feet, repeating the hard shove, followed by the same resounding 'click'.

Master’s mind began to switch gears as he felt sharp tugs at his wrists and ankles. “What the fuck is going on, slut? Get over here and get my rocks off!” The bear hollered, attempting to stand up and storm over to the small fur, only to find himself unable to move from the spot, not quite grasping the situation yet. He glared at the smaller male, enraged and ready to beat him into tomorrow. "You'd better unlock this right now, you worthless cunt. I'll tear your ass apart!"

“Fucking Hells,” Raunch said, sighing loudly in relief. “I really thought I was going to have to do more work to get you to sit down. Lucky for me, I found a guy with more balls than brains.” The burly bear didn’t like this at all. The beagle’s tone was much harsher now, and he didn’t appreciate the tables being flipped on him. “Let me go right now, you little bitch, or I’m going to beat your fucking head in!” Master screamed, trying to sound intimidating, but failing miserably. To his dismay, he didn’t see a hint of fear in the smaller fur’s eyes; in fact, he started to laugh! “No, I don’t think I’m gonna’ do that, 'Master.’ Bigger males than you have tried to get out of that chair and failed, and I think it’s time you take a break from talking.”

With a quick sweeping motion, Raunch picked up both jocks from the floor and strode slowly over to to his would-be Master, taking a moment to pause and press the larger male’s musky underwear against his nose and inhale deeply. The beagle’s own thick member twitched violently and let out a quick slug of precum, landing at the bear's feet. Smiling with a sense of smug arousal, he jammed the fabric into the bear’s mouth, quick to remove his hand to avoid any nasty bites. He then used the waistband of his own underwear to wrap around the bear’s maw to keep it shut. With a snide grin, Raunch calmly reached down to his boot, pulling out a small switch-blade, which he flicked open and waved at his captive. Master's eyes went wide with panic, the gravity of his situation finally setting in. The canine leaned in close to his ear, before speaking in a cold, even tone. “Now, I believe I promised to ‘get your rocks off,' didn't I? Well, I intend to do just that."

The threat had its intended effect.

Master began moaning and hollering into his gag, attempting to point his head towards the door, and screaming incoherently. “Heh, you seem to have finally realized the mess you’re in; good. All that yelling won't do you any good, by the way. I helped the owner sound-proof that door myself. Don’t worry, though. It’s not like I’m going to just nut you and go. Not after getting you in this position. You and I are going to have some fun first,” Rauch gloated, the tint of a smile in his voice. And with that, he got to work.

To start, the beagle bent down, fully unlacing his tall boots and setting the long strings aside as he removed the well-worn leather. Once gone, the room was quickly overpowered with the stench of the fur’s socks, which had obviously gone unwashed for some time. Raunch quickly stripped himself of  them too, never breaking eye contact with the helpless beast in front of him. Master’s nose crinkled in disgust, causing Raunch to laugh. “What’s the matter, big guy? Do you like to be the only musky male around? Let me help with that.”

The beagle got up close and personal to Master, making sure to pick up one of his socks and his laces on the way. First, he firmly rolled the stained, putrid sock over the bear’s thick member, making sure to pump his fist a couple times in the process, enjoying as the cock twitched in his grasp, despite its owner’s discomfort.

Next, for the main event; Master’s enormous nuts. Raunch eagerly shifted the laces into one paw, picking up his captive’s ample balls with the other. He took a few moments to lift and fondle them, taking a gentle, but firm grip. Hefting their weight, they felt like two meaty softballs, pulsing with a natural heat. The canine’s cock quickly reached full mast below him, achingly hard at the sheer power he held in his grasp. “Holy fuck,” thought the hyper-aroused beagle. “This guy may be an overconfident asshole, but who wouldn’t be with a pair this massive?!” The smaller fur then leaned down, momentarily kneeling to push his nose deep into the bear’s nutsack.  Using his paw to steady the ursine testicles, he jammed his face into the orbs as hard as he could, inhaling the awful stench of Master’s unwashed balls. If this were another night, Raunch would have left the pair unmanagled and worshiped them all night, begging for the bear to cover him in his potent jizz. Unfortunately for Master, tonight was not his night.

Without warning, he bore down on the nuts from behind, slowly at first, but with increasing pressure. Carefully manipulating his paw pads, he began to crush, squeeze and prod the firm testicles. He made sure to pinch and twist the chords at the top of each plump testicle as well. This definitely had an effect on the poor, bound beast above. The bear started trying to trash and squirm, moaning loudly and beginning to cry into his gag. The sound was sending the dog’s libido into overdrive, his hard 8” knot positively flooding his feet with pre cum. A large smile was breaking out across Raunch’s maw, his face hidden in the folds of Master’s pulsing ball bag.

“Time to get to work,” he thought as he gave a truly brutal squeeze, before abruptly releasing his death grip on the swelling orbs and rising to his feet.

“Oh dear, Master. If that hurt, you’re really not going to like what happens next. I need you to be tough for me, though. You’re a big, strong male after; I’m sure you can do it! You’re going to want to save that screaming for later!” Without any more ceremony, Raunch's paws got to work, moving with shocking speed and purpose. Using the laces from his other paw, he got to wrapping them around the neck of the burly fur’s family jewels, separating the nuts and pushing them as low and forward as they could possibly go. He ended by making a small handle at the bottom of the tie, in case he got the urge to pull on them. He finished the knot by pulling as tight as he could muster, eliciting another sharp yelp from the male above. Raunch stepped back to admire his handiwork, seeing the oh-so-vulnerable male bits bulging at the end of the twine noose, each separated from its brother by several inches. They were already beginning to swell up nicely and take on a darker shade under their fur. Wrapping a paw around the handle, the vicious captor gave his playthings a brutal tug, the bear shrieking as it felt like his nuts were being pulled out by the root. “I really do love your balls, you know. It’s just that I think they’d look better if they were just a little larger. Let’s work on that before I ruin them.”

Without any further warning or fanfare, Raunch dropped the handle, drew his paw back into fist, and launched it into the bound bear’s groin. He smashed into the bound nuts with a considerable amount of force, with he the left taking the brunt of the hit. Master began hollering in earnest into the makeshift gag. “Guess we are starting with left!” Shouted the beagle with manic glee. He proceeded to launch several more punches directly into the swelling nut, attempting to hit a slightly different area of the sensitive organ each time, leaving no part of the crying bear’s ball unbeaten. As the small fur pistoned his fist into the delicate organ, he could feel it getting softer as the firm testicle resisted less and less to his knuckles. By the time it had taken about twenty strikes, the nut was hot to the touch, and Raunch was sinking deeper and deeper into the mammoth orb as it weakened.

The sadistic male took a brief respite, standing to gaze into the eyes of the brutalized bear. At this point, he was in hysterics, blubbering into his gag. Tears were running down his face as he begged and pleaded unintelligibly through his own musty jock. Raunch took this opportunity to lift one foot, several inches above Master’s softened left nut. The bear’s eyes darted downward before immediately going back to his captor’s eyes. He shook his head, ‘no,’ vigorously, a whining loudly through his nostrils. The beagle simply smiled warmly, as if he was greeting and old friend or recalling a fond memory. His foot dropped sharply and with alarming force, stomping into the aching ball below, pinning it to the hard chair beneath and sending his victim into spasms, eyes rolling back in his head, delirious from male agony. He leaned forward, placing a terrible weight on the damaged testicle, making sure to wiggle his toe pads, feeling a delightful squishing sensation under his foot as he inched closer to Master’s pain-stricken face. “I know it hurts; I really do. I think your left ball has had enough. It really can’t take much more. I think I should stop torturing it, what do you think?” The poor ursa was half mad with pain at this point, and began nodding emphatically, agreeing to anything that would make the pain in his nut stop. “I’m glad you agree. I’ll pop it so we can move on.”

Raunch didn’t give Master a second to react. With those words, he pushed his whole body weight forward and up, standing on the chair, and more importantly, putting his entire body weight on the nearly-dead ursine testicle. It didn’t immediately pop, much to the surprise of the beagle, and to the hell of its owner. Noticing this, the beagle began bouncing up and down slightly, balancing precariously on the doomed nut and twisting his foot.

One bounce *CRUNCH*

“Fucking pop!”

Two bounce *CRUNCH*

Raunch sank about halfway into the squishy ball.

Three bou- *SQUELCH*

 

It finally happened. The squishy organ could take no more and exploded under the brutal beagle’s foot with a loud, wet pop. He felt himself fall abruptly, nothing but mush and the bear’s abused scrotum between his toes and the chair. Raunch couldn’t fucking believe it. He had just just splattered the dominant male’s left nut into a useless paste. He rebalanced himself carefully, poking and prodding his toes through the jelly that was formerly a functioning testicle. The ecstasy of taking away half of Master’s manhood was too much. With an uncontrollable twitch, the canine’s knot began spewing a thick, paws-free load of jizz all over the room. He growled in heat as his cock spit wad after wad of cum, completely oblivious that most of it was landing directly in Master’s eyes. The beagle just let himself be lost in his pleasure, all the while continuing to let his feet explore the wreckage of the exploded ball, chunks of dead bear nut squelching between his digits. It wasn’t until Raunch’s orgasm started to peter out that he let his attention return to the half-male below. He stepped down from the chair, feeling more little chunks of solid nut guts liquify under his foot as he got down. “See, that wasn’t so bad! Halfway there!” Spouted the beagle cheerfully. “Oh, looks like you passed out.”

 

Raunch took a deep breath, still coming down from his mind shattering orgasm. He wanted to take a moment to drink in the scene before him. The unconscious bear in front of him really was a stunning example of what it was to be male. His legs were as thick as young tree trunks, powerful enough to support the towering weight of the fur. He had a keg for a stomach, but it was clear that a strong core lay under his large belly.. The tortured ursine also sported large, sculpted arms, undoubtedly coming from hours at the gym as well as throwing subs on their back and holding their legs up as he plowed them. Honestly, even with his tear streaked face, you wouldn’t be able to tell he was anything but a true stud of a male; until you looked between his legs, of course.

 

Master’s cock was still covered in the beagle’s filthy sock, which Raunch peeled away as he glanced down at his handiwork. His member had flagged due to the abuse, but even soft, the bear’s cock was huge, lazily dropping over his leg. Below the prodigious meat, his leathery pouch was another story. On one side of his ball bag sat a firm, virile testicle. Other than a small amount of swelling, it was a perfectly healthy, bloated cub maker. In contrast, it seemed to almost be floating in the ruins of its brother. The left side of the nutsack dropped off into a sad, dark mess, no longer containing any solid material. The beagle gently reached forward and prodded the half vacant sack, working his paws through the jellied orb. The bear’s former nut had been obliterated into a mushy, soup-like consistency, slipping easily in and out of the dog’s grip.

 

The sadistic beagle let his paw drop as he felt the distant twitching of his knot, already stiffening despite his recent orgasm. He leaned in closer to inspect the wreckage. Unable to help himself, Raunch once again pushed his face deep into the half-destroyed scrotum, feeling the last few gelatinous chunks of the ball slide past his invading nose. Next, he opened his maw, letting the hot, leathery flesh spill into his jaws.  He thought, for an instant, about biting down and ripping the sack open. “No, don’t rush this,” he thought to himself. Instead, the beagle moved his tongue slowly, and deliberately. With work like dedication, he took the next few moments to swish the bear’s bag in his maw, finding the last few globs of unshattered nut, and pushing them against the roof of his mouth, feeling them *squick* into nothing more than ruined nut guts. Once he was sure, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that every piece was liquified, the beagle stood up and stretched his back. “Alright, time to wake up sleeping beauty,” he chuckled as he went to fetch the next item from his boot.

 

“Fuck!” The beagle fumed. He’d forgotten to bring smelling salts. There was no way he was going to let this beastly male stay unconscious during the second half of his neutering. Raunch stood there, pondering for a few moments on what to do, irritated with himself that he made such an oversight. Luckily for the small canine his own body gave him the answer. The whiskey he’d downed earlier had made a very quick trip through his system, and felt the familiar tug of his bladder to empty. “Heh, it is a blackout party, after all. It’s a sin to waste perfectly good piss,” he observed to no one in particular. He quickly popped back up on the chair, taking no care in avoiding the ruined left ball, before he pointed his cock towards Master’s face and letting the stream of urine go all over the captured fur. It took a few seconds for it to work, Raunch boredly moving his knot back and forth to cover the bear, but eventually the male opened his eyes. Unfortunately for Master, they were immediately splashed with the potent stream of piss. “You’re awake!” Chided Raunch happily. “You were out cold, Master. I thought I’d better wake you up so you didn’t sleep through any of the fun. It looks like I even washed the cum out of your eyes! No need to thank me. Ready for part two?”

 

Master looked up in a haze, most likely trying to piece together where he was, what was going on, and why his nuts hurt so fucking badly. He glanced down towards his crotch, through the film of piss and cum, eyes landing on his balls. A moment of silence passed, the dawning realization that he was only looking at one nut. His large head flew up in panic, locking eyes with his captor. Hysterical tears poured down his handsome face as he begged incoherently into his gag. “I know. I know. You must not be thrilled to be down a ball,” Raunch stated in a slow, understanding tone that didn’t match the situation in the least. “It’s got to hurt like a motherfucker, too. I’ve got good news, though. Popping your nut got me really horny, and before I take righty, I’m going to do something nice for you. I’m going to help you shoot your last load!” Master went ballistic at that point, struggling in his bonds even more, continuing to shriek loudly, even with nobody coming to his aid. The beagle glared down at the bear with a look that could freeze hell itself, before getting nice and close to the male below. “You know. I don’t have to be nice. You aren’t leaving here with balls, you stupid fuck. I’m going to nut you, one way or the other. The question is, do you want the chance to cum one last time before I neuter you? I expect you to nod, “yes,” or, “no.” Master froze for a moment, doing his best to answer while being distracted by the terrible pain in his crotch. He began to cry again before letting his head rise and fall in a somber nod. “Good answer.”

 

For what it’s worth, the beagle meant what he said. As soon as the bear agreed to one last orgasm, the canine got to work in earnest. Raunch was quickly on his knees, face to face with the bear’s thick cock. He was uncut, with his ample foreskin covering the head of his member. Even from several inches away, the smaller fur could smell the powerful stench coming from the foreskin. Between the musk of the ursine cock, the fact that it still smelled like a dirty sock and the sweat that was worked up as his left ball was beaten in, the whole package smelled like a college locker room. Eagerly, the beagle’s tongue flicked into the opening, swirling around the head of the bear’s member. He stopped under the head, pressing his wide tongue firmly into the most sensitive part of the cockhead. Above, Master began moaning distantly and muffled. The beagle grinned, gently peeling back the foreskin and going at the thickening rod with gusto. The bear really did have a jawbreaker of a dick, and Raunch wanted to taste the last bit of cum it would spit out. Pulling more and more of the bear’s length into his maw, the beagle was soon deep throating the captive male, pushing his own head forward until his nose was buried in musky ursine pubes. With the entire cock in his mouth, Raunch began swallowing repeatedly, effectively contracting his throat on the enormous cock, aggressively milking it of its content. The beagle had used this technique on many a partner, so he wasn’t surprised that it didn’t take long for his prey to shoot. Swallowing hard one last time while pulling his head back, Raunch was able to have his maw back on the head of Master’s cock as it began to blast shot after shot of lumpy bear jizz. It was a powerful, enormous load that filled Raunch’s muzzle entirely over the course of a minute before the pulses started to slow and weaken. The canine pulled away, taking a second to swirl the thick sperm around in his mouth. It tasted wonderfully bitter and strong, with the slightest hint of copper. Standing once again, Raunch took a half gulp, making sure to leave some of the male’s cum in his mouth. He smiled down at Master, who was coming down from his orgasm, before cruelly spitting the remainder of the cum directly onto the bear’s face, snapping him back to reality. “I thought it was only fair I share some of your last load. I hope you enjoyed that, because now, it’s time to say goodbye to last nut”

 

Raunch stepped back to the pile of his clothes, retrieving the small knife from earlier. With a quick flick of his wrist, the blade appeared, gleaming slightly in the dim light. He approached the bear once more, leaning forward to grip the larger fur’s knees and use them to hold his weight, so he could speak to Master face to face. “Now, we are both busy men, Master. At least, I’m a busy man, and you’re going to be a busy neuter. I’m going to let you decide how long it takes to ruin your last testicle. I’m going to be looking you in the eyes the entire time, and when you are ready for me to take it, I want you to nod for me. We already practiced this, so it should be easy, right? It’s up to you how long it takes.” The beagle paused, letting his words sink in. He let a few seconds pass, hanging in the air like an eternity. “However… I also don’t like to be kept waiting. It you try to prove you are a tough guy and make me wait too long… I’ll also cut off your cock!” His explanation had been nonchalant, as if he was asking the brutalized bear to decide on where to eat for dinner. Not wanting the waste any more time, the beagle got to work.

 

Raunch lowered himself to a squat, returning to eye level with the bear’s mangled package. We winked up at the terrified bear before he pressed the point of his knife into the plump scrotum, enjoying as the leathery bag wrapped around the blade at first, the skin trying to accommodate the object without being cut. However, with  a strong push, the blade did pierce Master’s sack, sinking deeply into the flesh. Without much fanfare, the beagle began the pull the knife downwards with slight sawing motions, straight through the seam of the large bag. The results were immediate. As soon as the cut became large enough, the remains of the bear’s pulverized left testicle poured wetly from the opening. The mush leaked onto the chair, dripping thickly over the surface of the wood, before oozing over the edge with a, *splat* on to the canine’s own stiff knot. Raunch nearly shot another load right then and there as he felt the remains of the bear’s nut cover his own package warmly. Instead, he was able to continue working, although his breathing became noticeably heavier. Above, the bear could be heard whimpering, as he felt the pressure of his scrotum permanently deflate with the loss of his left nut. Laying the knife aside, Raunch reached one paw around the back of the nutsack and began squeezing, pushing the right nut forward, while his other paw pads worked their way into the slit. With a little bit of manipulation, the beagle worked the big stud’s last ball out into the open air, letting it hang for a moment from the hole in his bag.

 

“This is it, Master. I’ll bet you’ve never seen a ball look like this before. At the end of the day, all of that masculine bullshit you thrown around comes from this sensitive clump of meat. I wonder what you’re going to be like without these big things running your life. Remember, buddy. You tell me when.”

 

With that, Raunch pulled; hard. He took Master’s last nut and stretched it by the cord until he got a firm grip before leaning forward. At first, the beagle began to run his tongue over the ball’s surface, his rough tastebuds scraping the sensitive organ as he explored every inch. As he continued to do this, he let his spare paw wander the cords of the massive orb. Section by section, the beagle pinched and tugged the connective nerve of the dying ball, enjoying the wails from above each time he found a new, sensitive spot. Next, came the teeth. Raunch continued to stare into the beastly male’s eyes, repeatedly pretending to chomp down and obliterate his lone ball. Each time, however, he stopped short of snapping his jaws shut, before simply chewing on the damaged orb. The damage wasn’t permanent, but sure to hurt like hell. Above him, Master began to whimper, sounding like a kicked cub, more than a burly mountain of a male. He could see the bear’s head begin to twitch, as if he was ready to give in, but each time he would hold steady. The bear really was a trooper for holding out this long, even with the torture being directly on his damaged nut. It was time to be, “merciful,” and put the bear out of his misery.

 

“Wow, you really are tough, Master. I’m surprised you haven’t already thrown in the towel. I think you deserve a to use my throat one more time.”

 

Raunch let the confusion set into his prey for a moment, letting him think he might be getting another break from the pain. Then, without warning the sadistic beagle sucked the bear’s massive nut into his jaws; and swallowed. If the thought of the canine’s throat had brought the bear any relief, it was destroyed in an instant as a world of pain engulfed his remaining testicle. He began howling and seizing in his chair, nearly vomiting from the sheer agony emanating from his nut. The small fur began using the same technique from the earlier blowjob to crush the failing ursine testicle! Again and again, Raunch used his powerful throat muscles to attempt to swallow the bear’s nut whole while it was still attached to its owner! Master’s eyes were rolling back in his head, catatonic in this testicular hell. It felts like his last nut was being mushed, over and over in the warm, crushing grip of the beagle’s throat. Any moment, he was sure that his last nut would explode; but the moment wasn’t coming. Just a seemingly endless cycle of his captor swallowing his manhood, crushing it to a fraction of its normal size, before letting it fall back into his jaws, only to crush it again. He finally reached his limit. Between ragged breaths and convulsions, Master forced his head down to meet Raunches gaze, before giving a tearful,  jerking nod forward.

 

A lot of things happened at once. A smile of pure joy came to Raunches face; a chilling reaction, given the circumstances. He was in the middle of letting the bear’s fat ball rest in his mouth when he saw the nod. Not needing any further prompting, the beagle swallowed once more, before throwing his head backwards, violently. He reached his paw down below, pumping his cock furiously, using the liquified bear nut as lube. There was an audible *SNAP* signaling the end of the bear’s attachment to his nut. Master felt an immense tug and inhuman agony as his ball was ripped from his body. It was finally too much for his body, as he mercifully passed out from the pain, his last view being the beagle’s throat bulging obscenely for a moment as his last ball disappeared forever. Raunch fell on his back from the momentum, but continued jerking his meat fervently as he felt the immense ball travel passed his throat and into his gut. The feeling of swallowing the ursine nut put Raunch’s senses on overdrive, his cock pumping a geyser of cum all over his chest and muzzle. Wad after wad of potent jizz shot out of the canine's sizable cock painting the area around him in pup batter. “Oh, fuck yeah! Your nut feels so fucking good on my dick, you fucking neuter!” Cried the beagle to nobody in particular. He was beyond himself with his own pleasure and the realization that he had fully destroyed another male’s balls. As, his shots of spunk began to weaken, he scooped up as much of his cream as he could and licked it off his fingers, the taste of sperm and the bear's nut mush mingling in his mouth. His cum had never tasted so amazing, knowing that he was still a male, while Master would never get to use his cub makers again...

 

It took several minutes for Raunch to come down from the high of his orgasm, and a few more for his breathing to slow down enough for him to sit up. His eyes surveyed the scene in front of him. An unconscious bear sat restrained in a heavy chair, his nutsack split open and nut guts dripping, slowly, onto the floor. The overpowering stench of piss, cum  and musk permeated the room. Tossed off clothing and a slightly bloody knife lay in a heap on the floor.

 

“Holy shit… Who’s next?”