The Hour that Broke the
Beast
By: Bull2Steer
(This story revolves around two characters from Marvel Comics)
Previously
on X-Men…
The
X-Men were in a state of Emergency.
Several
of their most powerful foes, including Magneto, Mystique and Sabertooth had
come out of hiding, with the diabolical goal of kidnapping powerful telepaths from
all over the galaxy!
They
had already succeeded in kidnapping Oracle, of the Shi’a Imperial Guard, all
the way in the reaches of space. The team of evil mutants had even managed to
capture Psylocke, an elite psychic assassin who was no stranger to a fight or
getting out of sticky situations.
As if
things weren’t bad enough, the X-Men had even lost one of their own; the crimson-haired
heart of their team, the immensely powerful telepath, Jean Grey.
In
the midst of a fierce battle against the master of Magnetism and his feral lackey,
Sabertooth, they had let themselves get distracted, giving their enemies the
time they needed to whisk their teammate away into a portal to an unknown
location.
However,
in the aftermath of the fight, the team managed to subdue capture Sabertooth,
and drag him back to their mansion home for questioning.
Furious,
worried and humiliated, the team begins to interrogate their captive for
answers.
None of the team took this loss to heart more
that the X-Men’s own animalistic mutant, Wolverine. He not only had a long-standing
rivalry and hatred for Victor Creed, aka Sabertooth. He was someone he had once
considered a comrade, but his undying love for Jean Grey rivaled that of
Cyclops, the man who had claimed her heart.
Wolverine was going to get answers out of his old adversary, no matter what
he had to do to get them.
Back
at the mansion, several stories underneath the X-Men’s expansive home, the team
had successfully restrained Sabertooth in a holding cell. He was secured to a large
chair, bolted to the floor, with thick metal shackles around each of his immensely
powerful arms. These weighted shackles could stand up to the strength of twenty
normal men; but Creed wasn’t a normal man, and they weren’t taking any chances.
They had even gone so far as to secure a solid steel muzzle around the vicious
man’s head and face; they wouldn’t put it past him to try and take a chunk out
of anyone that got too close to his razor-sharp jaws.
Currently,
the X-Men’s mutant leader, Scott Summers, code name Cyclops was nearing the end
of his rope. He had been attempting to interrogate and intimate their captive,
with the help of the team’s friend and fellow mutant, Archangel, who could not
only fly, but also use his razor-sharp wings to cut down his foes. However, try
as they might, even their combined efforts, their threats weren’t intimidating
the stubborn, tower of muscle in the slightest… He just sat in his confines,
taunting and laughing at the men who were desperately trying to get him to
spill his guts…
“You’re
too stupid to plan this on your own! Who are you working for?” Shouted Scott, angrily
jabbing his finger deeply into Sabertooth’s expansive, spandex clad chest. Despite
the fact that he pushed his finger forward with considerately force, it barely
dented the solid plate of muscle of his huge pectoral.
The metal
visor Cyclops wore, shone an angry, crimson red, clearly displaying his frustration
and rage. Sabertooth wasn’t impressed, and shot a mocking grin that was so
large, it could be clearly seen through his muzzle.
“Suck
my cock, pretty boy,” Sabertooth spat back, before issuing a low, rumbling and
truly guttural growl of defiance and laughing. All the while, he was pulling on
the thick steel beams that bound his enormous form, making the metal creak and
groan. The cold metal held fast, but the fact that it moved at all was a
testament to Creed’s truly frightening strength. He had taken every opportunity
during the interrogation to try and lunge forward, break his binds, and
otherwise intimidate his captors.
“Professor
wants you in the war room,” came a gravely voice from behind, surprising
everyone in the room, and giving momentary pause to the tense exchange between
the beast and the Boy Scout.
Cyclops
and Archangel turned to see the resident loose cannon of of their team, looming
in the doorway; a short, stocky man clad in a striking yellow uniform, accentuated
with sharp, angular accents of blue that complimented his wild and untamed mane
of onyx black hair. Normally he sported an intimidating, sharp black mask;
today he wore a scowl that could stop death himself.
Here
stood Logan, The Wolverine.
Wolverine
was extremely short in stature barely coming up to shoulder height of his
companions; however, what he lacked in height, he made up for in sheer
masculine prowess.
The
spandex costume he sported clung to him like shrink wrap, leaving absolutely nothing
to the imagination.
The
man was a veritable ball of muscle, with shoulders that looked like they were
carved from stone, biceps nearly the size of his head, trailing down to bulging
forearms covered in thick coating of coarse dark hair.
He
sported a prominent eight pack that, given the compact nature of the man, gave
him the appearance of small tank. Above his cobblestone abs, his bulging pecs
looked to be made of steel rather than flesh, with two large, diamond hard
nipples that threatened to poke through the material of the skintight uniform
that covered his expansive chest.
His
legs were equally as thick as his arms, looking more like two tree trunks than
the legs of a man; they were extremely vascular powerful and compact, each containing
enough strength to lift men several times his size; and even then, that wasn’t
the end of the stud’s masculine display. Those stocky, muscled legs led up to
what was arguably his most striking and jaw dropping feature, the enormous
bulge of his crotch.
Slung
heavy and leaning to the left, was the unmistakable outline of his gigantic mutant
cock, thick as a beer can and heavy, even in its flaccid state. The skintight
fabric that housed his package hung on every curve and vein of his heavy penis
and clung so tightly that the distinct outline of his protective foreskin could
be seen, wrapped around his bulbous cock head from several paces away.
Below
Logan’s ample cock, lay two distinct oval lumps, easily larger than plums,
bulging obscenely against the spandex that struggled to contain them. Wolverine’s
prodigious testicles were so tightly packed in his costume, it seemed as if you
could see them pulse and bounce int time with his heartbeat.
With
such a ridiculously overpacked crotch, it was hardly a wonder why the compact
muscle beast was such a temptation to the otherwise unwaveringly faithful Jean
Grey.
“Why
not? I’m just wasting my time here,” Scott griped in exasperation, casting a
glowering, disgusted look at Sabertooth from behind his ruby quartz lens,
before storming out of the room, Archangel following close behind. Under normal
circumstances, Scott would have lectured Logan not to go too far, interrogating
Creed, and not to lose his head. He’d tell him to think things through and do the
right thing. Today, however, a large part of Scott wanted to stay and watch
whatever Logan had in store for the hulking piece of trash that had helped take
away the woman he loved. However, Scott knew he would just be in the way, and
hold Logan back, so he begrudgingly made his exit to regroup with the others
and find a way to rescue Jean from whatever danger she was facing.
No
sooner had his teammates cleared the cell, than Wolverine abruptly stormed in.
Glancing at the wall, Logan spotted the control panel to the cell, and slammed
his heavy fist into the largest button. With a series of clicks and whirs, the locks
disengaged; the sturdy restraints that held Sabertooth’s enormous wrists fell
away, freeing the brutish mutant from captivity.
“Okay,
hairball; lets talk,” Wolverine grunted out. As he spoke, a dual set of heavy, metal
claws popped from both of his knuckles, over a foot long and razor sharp.
Sabertooth was all too familiar with these claws, made of the nearly
unbreakable metal, adamantium. It ran throughout Logan’s entire skeleton,
making his tankish appearance nearly literal.
Creed
rubbed his sore joints, easing the chafed feeling the heavy shackles had left. He
proceeded to crack his massive knuckles and stretch his enormous body, readying
himself for the inevitable tussle with his oldest adversary. He grinned to
himself; he had expected this. After all, the runt’s pride would never let him
pass up an opportunity to try and take him out.
“The
pipsqueak has always been jealous of me,” he told himself. “This time, I’ll put
Wolverine down for good, and show the little man who the real Alpha is” he
thought to himself.”
With
that arrogant thought hyping him up, Sabertooth leapt into the air, just as
Logan was hitting the emergency door lock, to shut them inside. Not only would
it trap Creed in this cell, but it would also ensure they wouldn’t be
interrupted. With a hiss of hydraulic locks, the door slammed shut, sealing
with a loud BANG as two tons of unrelenting steel trapped the two combatants
inside. Now the two brutes were alone, with no risk of being disturbed, and they
could truly cut loose, trying to destroy one another as they had done a hundred
times before.
Wolverine
saw his enemy leap and reacted instinctively to the lumbering wall of muscles
that descended upon him. With reflexes honed over years of fighting larger
opponents, he dropped on to his back, raising his short, thick legs above him,
and pushing them out with the force of a cannon. His effort paid off, as he
used Sabertooth’s momentum to push him into the unforgiving metal of the door.
The towering beast hit the wall, making a sound akin to a car hitting concrete.
Logan
groaned and panted. He had felt his feet smash into the rock-hard abdominals of
his larger opponent, but he had barely made a dent. He’d never admit it to
Creed, but his rippling muscles were astoundingly hard; it was more like trying
to kick solid steel than the abs of a man. Not wasting a moment, he rolled
quickly to the middle of the room, retracting his claws, and crouching into a fighting
stance. He knew all too well that his foe wouldn’t stay down for long.
“Oof!
GrrraaaaaHHHUUUUUGHHHH!” Creed growled, and shook his head back and forth,
attempting to regain his bearings, and causing the muzzle he was wearing
clatter to the ground in the process.
“Oh,
you’re gonna pay for that, Tiny! I’m gonna tear you, limb from limb, right
before I take out all your weakling friends!” With that gruff threat, he lunged
across the room with surprising speed for someone of his immense stature. In a flash,
he was within striking distance of the dwarfed combatant.
His counterattack
was as swift as it was brutal, sending one of his freakishly huge, clawed hands
directly into Wolverine’s chest, slashing with enough force and speed to
decimate a small tree. His attack had the intended effect, leaving a series of
gashes along Logan’s broad, hyper muscled chest. Four long streaks of red
appeared across Logan’s pecs, tracing where the blow had landed.
Creed
smiled in satisfaction, seeing the streaks of blood through the large, tattered
hole he had torn in Logan’s uniform. However even as he drank in the sight, Sabertooth
saw his enemy’s wounds begin to miraculously close and heal, right before his
eyes. It was a sight that they were both very familiar with, as both men had
accelerated healing to compliment their ballooning muscles, and ample bulges.
Within a few moments, instead of the deep slash wounds, Sabertooth found himslf
staring at the Logan’s beefy chest, and the thick pelt of dark wiry hair that
covered its surface. Creed had no intention of letting Logan stay in one piece,
however.
“That’s
enough rest for you, little man; I’m gonna break you in half!” He shouted. He once again pounced on his stocky target.
Sabertooth reached down the considerable distance between difference in their heights
and picked up his beefy foe. He lifted with all his might, knowing that even
though his enemy appeared small, that we was in fact, incredibly dense and
heavy, due to Wolverine’s metal bones, and incredibly thick muscles. Applying
this same level of strength, he began to squeeze with all his might, intending
to crush the life out of Wolverine in a vicious bear hug that could easily have
crushed a car. Even with reinforced bones, Sabertooth was confident he could
crush Logan like a tin can. Several seconds ticked by, his devastating growing
tighter and tighter, as he attempted to snuff out the life of the rock-solid mutant
in his grasp.
“Get
ready to be destroyed, Shrimp! You’re never going to see that pretty little redhead
again!”
“AaaaauuuGGHhh!”
Logan roared in inhuman agony. He had let Sabertooth’s slash catch him off
guard, and he was paying for it. He was having incredible difficulty breathing,
even with his solid metal skeleton bracing his body against the crushing force.
His towering opponent had gotten the upper hand, quite literally. With Creed
picking him up and trying to crush the life out of him, he wasn’t even touching
the ground, but instead was behind held several feet off of the floor and being
smashed mercilessly from all sides by the immeasurable strength of the beefy
mutant powerhouse. He was no stranger to larger foes trying to use his lack of
height to their advantage, but he knew that Creed really got off on it.
They
had been fighting for as long as Logan could remember, and he’d had a lot of
experience in how the brute got his kicks. Even when they were on the same
team, Sabertooth would challenge Logan’s masculinity by flexing his insanely large
biceps in the smaller man’s face, delighting that they were bigger than Logan’s
head. He also often taunted his short stature, and how Logan would, “never
measure up, in more ways that one.” Most times, this was followed by Creed
grabbing his ample, bulging crotch and giving it a large squeeze, standing to
his full height, so his prominent pouch was in the shorter man’s face, before laughing
boastfully. It was always enough to get Wolverine’s blood boiling, before yet another
fight broke out.
Distantly,
Logan heard the taunts and jeers currently being spat at him as Creed tried to
smother him; his breathing got shallow, and his vision got spotty and began to
fail. He struggled valiantly, but it vain, powerless against what felt like an
entire ocean of muscle that was wrapped around him.
“Jeanie…”
Wolverine muttered, breathlessly, nearing the point of passing out.
However,
just as as he was about to lose consciousness, Logan felt something strange,
and soft; it was the unmistakable bulge of Sabertooth’s massive manhood!
Wolverine’s
height had put him in the unique position where, as we held up by his opponent,
his hard kneecap was resting against a mass of soft flesh, a stark contrast to
the rest of the man’s rock-hard muscles. Logan realized that he could even feel
the weight of Creed’s dense, fat testicles on his leg… and something else
brushing against his thigh… A stiffening, snaking tube of flesh. Creed was
getting hard! This sicko was actually getting turned on hurting him!
That
was the last straw for Logan. Concentrating all his willpower to not pass out, he
drew his leg back as far as he could and sent it flying towards the hefty bulge
between his aggressor’s legs. His kneecap slammed with the force of a freight
train, connecting with Sabertooth’s unprotected scrotum. He felt them distort
and warp around his kneecap; the spandex layers between the balls and his knee offering
no protection from the blow. Instantly, the fat orbs were compressed, and Logan
felt them collide solidly with the beast’s pelvic bone.
Not
one to let a grudge go, he began grinding his knee with all his might,
attempting to cause maximum damage and agony to Creed’s softest parts. As he continued
the unrelenting pressure, he felt the monster’s meaty right ball pop free from
under his knee, shooting backwards to safety, but not without first sending a
wave of gut-wrenching pain up the thick nut cords to Sabertooth’s brain.
“Mother
fuughhahaaaah!” Sabertooth howled loudly, nearly shaking the metal walls. The
explosive pain in his testicles immediately caused him to drop his foe to the
ground, as his giant hands flew to his ample groin in a pointless attempt to
ease the ache in his abused nuts. The ache radiated through his testicles, shooting
up his cords and twisting his guts in knots. It felt like a bomb had gone off
in his poor right nut, and if it weren’t for the insane durability provided by
his mutant DNA, that adamantium plated knee to his crotch would surely have
caused his balls to explode in their hairy sack. Even a superhuman body has
limits, however. Creed fell into a fit of coughing and groaning, instinctively
shielding his battered plums.
In
front of him, Logan was also trying to catch his breath, as his air supply returned,
and his damaged lungs began to heal. At this point, it was just a matter of
seeing who recovered first.
Shakily,
Logan made it to his feet; he was still recovering, but his rage at Sabertooth
was helping him to push through it.
“You
talk real big for a guy who’s actually smaller ‘an me, ‘downstairs,’ Creed. Guess
it’s no wonder you couldn’t take me out. Now, you won’t get the chance!” He
spat, as he sent his fist sailing towards the larger mutant’s face. The hit was
direct and strong, hitting Creed’s square across his chiseled jaw, sending the
hulking man flying backwards, landing on his firm, bubble ass.
As a
new staggering pain set in, Creed brought his massive, clawed hands up to his
face in an effort to protect himself from another attack, but this proved to be
the wrong move. Now that the hyper muscled freak of a man was flat on his big,
round ass, he was in an awkward and defenseless state that Wolverine took full
advantage of. He once again pulled back his leg and set it careening towards
his downed enemy’s exposed crotch. This time, however, Logan wasn’t struggling
to breathe or at an unlucky angle; he was able to gain more momentum and use
the full power in his incredibly strong legs.
The
results were explosive for Sabertooth’s manhood. The blow landed with all the
force of Logan’s considerable strength, augmented with the the weight of the
unbreakable metal fused to his foot. His aim was perfect and smashed both of
the swelling sperm factories dead on, sending them flying upward and away from
the bottom of their pouch. For a split second, it seemed they might just burst
right from the confines of their sack and the spandex that housed them, and
just keep going! Instead, the force of the kick was so great, that a large wet
spot formed at exactly the spot where Sabertooth’s hard cock ended. Logan had
literally kicked so hard, that it had forced a gigantic slug of precum out of
the beefy nuts, and and shot out of the mammoth phallus!
“Heh,
seems like you enjoy getting a beating even more than giving it. So much for the
‘tough guy,’ act, bub. But since to seem to like getting pounded on so much, I
guess I better give you more.”
For
once, Creed was rendered speechless. Right now, he wanted nothing more that to
get up and slam the runt’s head through one of these solid steel walls, and
spit macho taunts his way, before he put him into the ground; but he was finding
it impossible given the current, gut destroying pain emanating from his rapidly
swelling reproductive organs. The most he could do was cough, and dry heave, as
his eyes began to tear up. He sat there, dumbly drooling and sputtering as he
tried to cope with the mind destroying pain exploding from inside his nuts.
Wolverine
had no intention of letting the busted meathead recover. He needed answers, and
more importantly, he wanted to get payback for nearly being crushed to
death.
“What?
All the fight outta’ you already, Creed? I thought you were gonna’ break me in
half?” He balked, roughly, walking up to his fallen and despondent foe.
“Guess
I’m gonna have to show you what breakin’ looks like, you useless piece of
gutter trash.”
Logan
strode fearlessly up to the burly giant, determined to beat some answers out of
him. It was his turn to lean down to his enemy, pulling the burly animal off
his ass by the fluffy collar he wore on his skintight spandex suit. Despite how
much larger Sabertooth was, Logan was able to use his considerable mutant
strength to hoist the man up, until they were face to face.
“Now,
you’ve got one last chance to tell me who set this up, before I decide to stop
being so nice.”
Despite
the immense pain that was consuming Sabertooth’s mind, his bullheaded pride still
surfaced in response to Wolverine’s threat.
“What are you going to do, Logan? Are you and
your X-Wimps going to throw me a tea party?” He spat from behind a forced,
pained smile.
“Fine,
Creed, have it your way. Can’t say I didn’t warn you.”
With
a mighty yank, the compact ball of muscle pulled both of his clenched fists in
opposite directions, tearing the furred collar of Sabertooth’s signature brown
costume. Not only the enormous brute fall tumbling back to the floor without
the fabric to hold him up, but it also tore deeply into the torso of the outfit,
until it was nothing but tatters, exposing his hairy chest and abdominals.
With
a dull thud, the towering mutant was once again on his muscled backside (which
was beginning to get sore from being knocked on it several times) and his thick
pectorals and stony, cobblestone abs were exposed to the air of the frigid cell.
His thick, quarter sized nipples began to harden in response to the chilly air.
“You
seem to be pretty excited to finally be getting the whuppin’ you deserve,
Creed. Let’s make sure you keep enjoying it.” Logan reached out with one of his
hands, and grabbed one of Sabertooth’s meaty nipples, before giving a vicious
twist, chuckling as he saw a few more tears well up in the corner of
Sabertooth’s eyes. He repeated this on the man’s other nipple, attempting to
twist even harder this time. Creed thrashed slightly underneath him, trapped by
the fact that his balls were still screaming in pain too much for him to
escape, but also not wanting to show weakness or how much the pinches actually
hurt his sensitive nipples. Instead, he tried to push himself off the floor, to
try and get off the ground and get away from the brutal treatment.
“I don’t think so, bub. You’re not doing anywhere until I get some answers,”
Logan growled out. He let go of the ravaged nipples in his grasp, just long
enough to throw a few more punches, these ones landing in Creed’s stomach.
Despite the fact that punching those firm muscles felt like hitting a wall,
Logan didn’t stop rabbit punching the man’s midsection until he could hear
grunts escaping his tightly clenched jaws. Once that happened, he launched one
last fist into the beast’s midsection, as hard as he could, knocking the wind
out of him and sending him into another coughing fit. Finally, Wolverine raised
one of his feet into the air before having it come down firmly in the middle of
his foe’s wide chest and pushing him down to the floor until his back was flat
on the ground.
That’s
when Logan made his move. With his opponent flat on his back, he bore down on
Creed with a vengeance, with the intent to pin him. It was difficult at first,
as the downed muscle beast was still trying to put up a fight, but after
several more well-placed fists to the midsection and chest, Sabertooth was
panting heavily, and in no shape to fight back for a while. During this time, Wolverine
made the most of his advantage.
He
got on top of the exhausted brute, facing away from him; he placed both of his
knees on the brute’s shoulder blades, pinning him to the ground, before
planting his entire weight on Sabertooth’s chest. Even with his immense
strength, the downed fighter wouldn’t be able to lift several hundred pounds of
metal and flesh from his chest with no leverage or wind left in his sails.
Instead,
he was forced to tolerate being at the mercy of his most hated enemy. More shameful
still, he could feel every curve of Logan’s muscular ass through the thin
fabric on his exposed chest. He could even make out the distinct weight and
heft of his enormous balls, resting between his pecs. Sabertooth was furious
and deeply humiliated, and there was nothing he could do about it.
“Now,
might wanna start rethinking spilling the beans, Creed. While you still have
them between your legs. Now… WHO PUT YOU UP TO THIS?!”
Now,
a smart man would have realized that it was best to cooperate, and hope for
mercy. However, Sabertooth was many things: nasty, evil, cruel, monstrously
strong and prideful, but he was not smart.
“The
Tooth Fairy made me do it; said she’d give me a shiny quarte-...”
BAM!
Victor
didn’t get to finish his taunt, as stars exploded across his vision. Logan had
sunk his meaty fists into this defenseless crotch, slamming both of his balls
into the cold, unyielding floor, and prompting another large shot of pre to
soak his drawers.
“WHO WAS
IT!?” Logan repeated, bellowing even louder.
“Screw
you, little man!” Creed managed to choke out before another blow landed.
BAM!
BAM!
This
time, Logan focused his strikes on the hulking right ball, throwing two punches
into the beefy testicle, and taking mental note that it was beginning to
soften, and swell to truly enormous proportions as more shots of slick precum
built up near the feral man’s cock head.
At
this point, the bruised gonad was the size of a large peach and getting larger.
He could hear Creed’s breath becoming more labored, and he could even feel his
heart rate increasing through the throbbing through the cur’s chest, which was sending
pulsing throbs through Wolverine’s own thinly covered plums.
Feeling
a direct link between the damage he was doing to Sabertooth’s balls and the
pleasant pulse shooting up into his own beefy testicles prompted him to push
even further. He decided to give a short break to asking for information and focused
all his attention on wrecking the weakening ballsack that was fully at his
mercy.
BAM!
BAM! BAM! BAM!
The
repetitive sound of Logan’s bulky fists mashing Sabertooth’s fat sperm pods into
the hard floor continued, as he found a rhythm in his strikes, throwing harder
and harder punches into the bull balls beneath him. After several minutes, he
was slamming with so much force that his fists were beginning to bleed from the
impact of his metal bones smashing the giant mutant ballsack into the cell
floor. Any other man’s testicles would have been splattered across the ground in
a puddle of mush by now, and even Sabretooth’s ridiculously strong jizz
factories were beginning to fail.
Wolverine
took a moment to catch his breath, leaning back a bit, while relishing in the
continued, steady thump of Sabertooth’s racing heartbeat through his loins. After
a few moments, he balled up both of his fits, and placed them, knuckles down on
top of each of Sabertooth’s balls. They had swollen even further, to the size
of softballs: a fitting description, as they were now much squishier than
before, and seemed as if they might not last if he decided to lean his full
weight on them.
“Now, you useless piece
of filth. Who took Jean, and where the HELL did they take her?” As he asked
this, Logan slowly leaned forward, bearing more and more of his solid, beefy
form onto the weakened, defenseless nutsack. “Tell me right now or, I swear
I’ll pop these useless suckers like week old birthday balloons.”
At
this point, Creed was delirious with pain. He barely knew where he was, or why,
let alone have any crude wisecrack to spit back at Wolverine. Hell, his battered
midsection had healed a while ago, but he was still paralyzed with from the
hellish pain going on between his legs. He had no energy or mental capacity to
taunt his foe any further, but even now, his defiant spirit won out. He simply
let out a growl, that was notably more pathetic than those prior, and spat
weakly at the smaller man’s backside, that was still rooting him to the floor.
“So
be it, chump. HrrrrrrAAAUHGHGH!” With a fierce bellow of frustration, Logan
pressed his full, three-hundred-pound weight down onto the nearly splattered
testicles beneath him. They compressed to a fraction of their normal, thick
circumference, so much so that his knuckles nearly touched the floor. Yet
somehow, they were still whole, as if these superhuman testicles were just as
stubborn and sturdy as their owner! Wolverine wasn’t done, however. Leaning
down as far as he could, into the collapsing ball bag, he pushed himself off
the dying scrotum, wish all his might. Logan’s stout form was pushed into the
air by several feet, suspended at the top of this arch for what seemed like an
eternity, before began to fall back down to the floor, and the Sabertooth’s
quivering sack.
Logan’s
massive weigh crashed downward, and at the very last second, right before his
fists planted into the doomed testicles, there was a loud -SNKKT!- that rang
out, as Wolverine popped out his signature claws.
The
outcome was as inevitable as it was brutal. Even Sabertooth’s nearly
unbreakable balls had limits. After being softened and beaten mercilessly by
Logan for nearly an hour, they catastrophically burst in their giant, hairy
bag. Not only that, but the added vicious application of Wolverine’s adamantium
claws had stabbed clean through the tough skin of Creed’s scrotum and nailed it
to the floor! With another quick, -SNKKT!- the claws retracted, although the
man did not remove the pressure of his upper body. Instead, he continued to
grind his fists into the floor in twisting motions, making sure that every lump
of unbroken nut was taken care of before he finally leaned back onto
Sabertooth’s chest, and observed the flattened pouch sitting between his foe’s
legs. He glanced back to relish seeing his foe in hysterics, only to see that his
enemy’s eyes were closed, and his face was stained with tears, apparently
having passed out from the shock of his nuts exploding.
Logan
just sat for a moment, drinking in the sight of his truly ballbusted nemesis. Since
passing out, Sabertooth’s pulse had slowed somewhat, but was still putting a
pleasant vibration through Logan’s fat nutsack every few seconds, reminding him
that his nuts were still whole, while the pair in front of him lay destroyed.
He sat on Creed’s chest, feeling extremely powerful, and strangely content. As
he sat there, he noticed small twitches coming from the flattened bulge in
front of him. Seems the mongrel’s nuts are already starting to repair
themselves. This caused a big smile to cross Wolverine’s face. He knew from
personal experience that the healing process could sometimes hurt just as badly
as the initial injury, and could only imagine how much agony it would cause to
have a pair of splattered, mushed balls try to pull themselves back together. The
twitches and movement in Sabertooth’s smashed sack became more frequent over
the next few minutes, as the healing process ramped up. Logan began to hear and
feel the beastly man beneath him start stirring.
“Oh
my god… Hraaafgh. Please… make it stop… Damnit…” The first words out of the
normally ferocious man’s mouth were meek and pleading.
“It
hurts so bad… Mercy, please!” He managed to squeak out, tears once again
running down his cheeks and chiseled jaw.
“I
gotta admit, Creed you’re as stubborn as you are stupid. Not talking even while
I totally wreck your balls is impressive; but it sounds like you’re willing to
cooperate. But I also gotta make sure I can believe what you’re saying. You
feel me, bub?”
“Please,
no more! I’ll talk, I’LL TALK!” Creed bellowed pitifully, sounding completely
unlike his normal, Alpha male self.
“Oh,
I’m sure you will, tough guy. Cyc might not have been able to squeeze you for
answers, but let’s see you handle it when I try!”
Wolverine
didn’t wait for a reply. He processed to slide both of his thick, calloused
hands into the waistband of the spandex pouch that housed Sabertooth’s liquified
plums. He took a firm grip of the furry scrotum inside, as the bag was
incredibly sweaty and still covered in sweat and globs of pre, and he didn’t
want to lose his grip.
They
felt much different than when he had sent the first knee into them. Instead of
two, bulking lumps, they felt significantly softer; more like a balloons filled
with jelly than a pair of testicles. Each of them had just begun to take a
solid shape, and starting the process of restitching the traumatized mush into
a pair of functioning testicles. Still, they were incredibly fragile.
Despite
the whimpering protests behind him, Wolverine handled the sensitive sack of
nuts as roughly as he could, wanting to cause as much pain as possible to get
his point across.
“So,
here’s the rub Creed. You’re going to tell me who put you up to this, and
you’re gonna tell me the truth. If you don’t, or if I think you’re lying
to me, you and me are gonna stay right here, on this grimy floor, and I’m going
to keep splattering your useless nuts into paste, until you tell me something I
believe, or until I get bored.”
“Please,
Wolverine; you can’t! You wouldn’t do something like that. You’re one of the
X-Men!”
Wolverine
didn’t respond, instead just pressing down viciously into the cords that lead
to Sabertooth’s incredibly vulnerable balls. It clearly hadn’t been long enough
for them to regain any structural integrity, because of his fat nuts
immediately fell off the mangled cords, and once again splattered in his bag.
“HHHHuAAAAARARRUGHGHH!
OH MY GOD. APOCALYPSE! It was Apocalypse. He put us up to it, and Magneto told
me to go along with it. That’s all I know! I swear. SO PLEASE! JUST LET MY NUTS HEAL AND DON’T BREAK THEM
AGAIN! I’M BEGGING YOU!”
“Was
that so hard, bub? Don’t worry. I won’t hurt your weak balls anymore, Creed. Starting
after I let the team know. Let’s go, you low down scum bag.”
With
that, Logan removed one of his hands from Sabertooth’s crotch, using the other
to wrap his fingers fully around the neck of Creed’s bag. He stood, keeping his
grip on the sack of mush, and hit the control panel on the door. With another
hiss, the door opened, and he began walking down the hallway leading to he war
room, dragging the broken mutant bull behind him by his shattered nuts.
When
Logan reached the door of the war room, he could hear arguing, specifically
between Cyclops and Cable, a time hopper with a big gun, and even bigger
attitude problem.
“There’s
more to this situation than just Apocalypse!” Scott hollered.
“No, there
isn’t… Sabretooth is workin’ for the guy, for all we know, everyone might be.”
Logan growled from the doorway. The team turned towards the door, just in time to
see Logan toss a very battered Sabertooth into the room by his bulging crotch,
landing with a thud into the room.
“I
thought he had refused to talk.” The team mused.
“He
changed his mind.” Logan muttered, gruffly. “But it took an hour just to get
that out of him. Now, you piece of garbage, I want to to show everyone how
sorry you are for helping a monster like Apocalypse. So, unless you want to
dance with again, you’d better get to begging.”
Creed’s
eyes went wide, with both surprise and fear. He knew he had not choice. He’d
finally been beaten, in body and spirit. Slowly, he got down on all fours, in
front of the room full of X-Men, staring smugly at him, and how far the
aggressive animal had fallen.
“Please
forgive me, and just let me go! Don’t leave me alone with Wolverine again!” he
begged in earnest, fearful for what would happen if they didn’t accept his
apology.
“Not
good enough, you slime. I want you to show everyone that you’re a docile, good
boy for everyone, unless you want to get neutered again. Get on your back, you
pathetic washed-up junkyard stray!” The broken beast quietly complied, getting
on his back, and looking up at his abuser. He knew he’d probably have to debase
himself and apologize, which was eating away at what little pride he had left.
However, he didn’t expect Wolverine to reach between his sweaty, muscular legs,
grab a handful of the spandex covering his broken nuts, and tear it off in one
mighty pull.
Suddenly,
his pulverized, mushed testicles were on display for all the X-Men to see. They
openly gasped and snickered at the sight of his flattened ballsack, which had
been beaten into an ugly, unhealthy shade of purple.
“Be a
good boy and show the team what you’ve learned. You shot so much precum getting
your balls bashed and destroyed, that I think you need to show the team how
much you enjoy being owned by the X-Men. Jerk off. Now.”
Sabretooth
was absolutely baffled. He’d been expecting humiliation, and maybe even more
pain… but this? His face went beat red with embarrassment. “Please… don’t make
me do that. I’m not even sure I can! My balls hurt too badly to cum… PLEASE!”
His pleas were sad, and whimpering, completely unlike the imposing terror that
the X-Men were used to coming face to face with.
Wolverine
simple walked between the legs of the simpering hunk, and raised his foot a
foot above the sensitive, and still reforming testicles beneath. “Do it. Jerk
that useless dick and blow your load for your new owners, or I’ll kill your fat
nuts all over again.”
Sabretooth
shuddered in panic and did as he was told; he began beating his girthy, uncut
meat feverishly. He had gone soft in the process of Wolverine dragging him by
his broken nuts, but slowly, his cock started standing at attention. He had to
stroke carefully as he jerked his mighty pole, because a few times, his giant
hand brushed against the mushed remnants of his nuts and sent his stomach into
his throat with blinding pain. Sabretooth was still unsure he could even blow a
load with his scrotum in the shape it was in… right up until Logan started
tapping his toes lightly on his busted bag. The threat was crystal clear, and
all the motivation that he needed.
Something about his most hated enemy threatening to destroy his manhood
again sent his cock into overdrive in a desperate effort to push out his seed
before it was too late. Shortly after the first few taps of Logan’s foot, Creed
blew his wad, in a big way.
For
starters, it didn’t seem to be a pleasurable experience for Creed in the least.
Much to the fascination and horror of the onlooking X-Men, his balls hadn’t
healed enough for his plumbing to be ready to the complex task of shooting a
giant load of cum. As soon as his orgasm began, his ball cords pulled up far
too quickly, and began sending signals to his fragile gonads to start pumping.
They simply weren’t ready for that level of exertion, and as they tried to
fulfil their roles, the strain simply caused them to blow themselves apart once
again, painting the inside of his scrotum with ball matter.
The
rest of his orgasm was spent screaming bloody murder so loudly that most of the
X-Men had to cover their ears.
Despite
his recent re-entry into castrated life, Sabretooth’s cords and massive cock
were still putting in the work to blow his load, which was nothing short of
breathtaking.
The first
shot of mutant nut sludge completely cleared Sabretooth’s body, landing with a
heavy, wet -SPLUT- on the floor next to his massive head. The following shot of
his lumpy jizz nearly did as well, but it stopped just short enough where some
of the sticky substance landed in his left eye, causing an unpleasant burn, to
add to all the other misery. The rest of the shots were equally as thick and
powerful, and coated the muscle man’s body, getting everywhere. Globs
upon globs of potent and pungent Alpha male sperm coated every inch of his
huge, muscled torso, spraying in thick robes across his hairy pecs, and running
off his chiseled abs in small rivers that pooled under him. Several shots of
the thick spunk even shot into Creed’s screaming mouth, landing wetly on his
tongue and the back of his throat. The brew of his baby batter was so thick,
that he was forced to swallow, lest he choke to death on his own viscous
splooge.
Finally,
after several long, agonizing minutes, his torturous orgasm was over. Sabretooth
was taking ragged, shallow breaths as he tried to move past the world ending
ache between his legs. Several minutes passed, and the broken mutant willed
himself to open his eyes, trying to blink away the mixture of his tears and
sperm that had nearly blinded him. What he saw, chilled him to the bone.
Wolverine.
He was hunched over Sabretooth’s pathetic form, which his fist hanging above
the destroyed scrotum... Worse still. His claws were out.
“Please,
NO! I did what you said, Wolverine! You promised you wouldn’t wreck my nuts
again!” Sabretooth squealed, feeling a renewed sense of terror crash over him
like a wave.
“Please
don’t break ‘em again!”
“I
lied, bub. You were doomed the second you helped kidnap Jeanie, and you gotta
pay the piper. Since you didn’t have the balls to stand up to Apocalypse or
Magneto, I don’t see why you need them now!”
Without
giving the broken ball of flesh time to process his words, Wolverine reached a
hand to the mess of ruined flesh between his foe’s legs, and tightly grabbed
the neck of Victor’s mangled ball bag. He then brought his other bulging fist,
and pressed it against the top of the sack, next to the pinched off cords. With
a flick of his wrists, and a loud, “SNKKT!!!” It was all over. Sabretooth’s
expansive ballsack came free into Logan’s waiting fist with a disturbing
tearing sound, hanging heavy, sloshing and broken.
With
the symbol of his victory wrapped tightly between his thick, hairy digits,
Logan held the stolen and destroyed nut bag up to Creed’s face, so he could get
nice, close view of what he’d lost.
“You’d
better hope these don’t grow back, bub; because if they do, you’d better
believe I’m going to be waiting to take ‘em from you again.”
Sabertooth
just looked vacantly at the hairy, busted bag of ball guts that hung inertly in
his face.
He
could hardly believe that this sweaty, swinging bag of manhood was his, let
alone no longer sitting safely between his legs.
With
a deep, sobbing cry of pain and disbelief, the ruined muscle beast finally gave
into his defeat, and passed out on the cold floor of the war room.
Wolverine
turned around to the X-Men, holding up the ruins of Sabretooth’s once proud
testicles high in the air for them all to see.
“Apocalypse
is next,” Logan said, grimly. “No, let’s get to work.”
