Beach Balls

The girls had kept us in the doghouse for over a week, after the “Strip Jack Naked” incident. However it seemed that I had been forgiven, when they invited me to join them on a bike ride to Ainsdale Beach. Graham was away on his holiday, staying at his Aunt Mary’s in Rhyl for the week, so it was just the girls and me... It took us over an hour to cycle the 18 miles to an isolated beach near to the military range at Altcar Sands. After our journey I was content to relax and spend the day sunbathing in the dunes, recuperating in readiness for the journey home. However things developed very differently.

God knows how I fell for it, but I got into an argument with Sheila about how the Japanese held their prisoners’ captive during the war. She bet me 2/-6d that she could tie me up “Japanese Style” with the short length of toweling chord from her beach bag... I foolishly took the bet (and the bait.)

I agreed to co-operate - “As though a gun was being held to my head” - and positioned myself as instructed… Sitting cross-legged on the sand, I leaned forward passing my arms inside my thighs, then out around my calves bringing my hands together in front of my shins.

Sheila quickly looped the cotton cord into a figure eight and passed the loops around my ankles, then around my wrists, finally tying it tightly between my feet - she announced “O.K.” - Linda confirmed that the knot was secure by saying that I was “Trussed up like a turkey.” I was now allowed to begin my Houdini escape act... After several minutes of futile struggling, I realised that I had lost the bet.

At first I wasn’t too concerned, and laughing nervously announced “I give in” and asked to be untied... Linda patted my head and then removed my sandals... “We’ve not quite finished with you yet”... Sheila scooped out a hollow in the soft sand behind me, and rolled me backward into it. I was now completely helpless, like a tortoise which had been rolled onto its back... With my arse in the air and my arms locking my thighs wide open, I suddenly realised how vulnerable I was.

Sheila produced two pairs of pink “Marigold” kitchen gloves from the beach bag and calmly passed one pair to Linda... They stood looking down at me as they drew the tight gloves onto their hands; I tried not to panic, again asking Sheila to untie me... This time I received no answer to my request. Linda simply maneuvered my body until she was completely satisfied with its pose. Sheila again delved into the open beach bag; this time she produced a pair of scissors and waved them in front of my face. I gave a sigh of relief thinking that my ordeal was over and she was about to release me… How wrong I was!

Instead of cutting through the cord that bound me so helplessly, Sheila passed the scissors to Linda, and hooking her fingers under the waistband at the sides of my briefs stretched them off my hips. After a moments pause and a sly grin, Linda snipped through either side of the swimming trunks and Sheila snatched them away... I was now literally “Bollock Naked!” with those particular organs presented like exhibits in an art gallery … I protested loudly, not least because my only pair of swimming trunks had been ruined... I was silenced by Linda with a stab from the scissors and a hefty slap across my scrotum “Don’t to make a fuss - and Keep Still” she snapped... She then trimmed off my sparse pubic hair before discarding the scissors.

Completely exposed to their intimate examination, I was now subjected to an unhurried “tail to navel” inspection of my anatomy with their gloved hands. Sheila rolled my circumcised cock between her fingers, examining the scar tissue below its gland and expressed her approval. “A nice neat job”. Nothing escaped their attention as they stretched and probed deep into my groin... Squeezing the contents of my scrotum until my eyes watered... Even the tiny freckle near my anus was exposed to their scrutiny and comment as a rubber-clad forefinger probed my innermost secrets.

By the time they had completely satisfied their curiosity upon the way it which nature had put me together, my anus was stinging and my scrotum felt as though it had been wound through a mangle. Surprisingly though, I was fully erect and Sheila noticed the tell tale trickle of sperm weeping from its “snakes eye”... This time they were not going to be taken by surprise and I was literally taken in hand and tossed off like a prize bull.

As Sheila rodgered my cock back and forth, Linda kneaded my sac using her thumbs against the captive glands in an attempt to produce doughnut shaped testicles... or maybe she was simply attempting to rip them off with her bare hands!

During this forced milking I was treated to a torrent of verbal abuse... “Let’s empty your muck before you make another mess”... “Lets see how you like stinking spunk all over you”... Within a minute they had brought me to a climax and even though I felt no real orgasm, I squirted out a healthy measure of spunk onto my abdomen. Sheila counted each squirt aloud as I came, finally stopping after five gobs of thick semen were splattered across my sandy chest. Sheila released her grip on my cock and spread the gritty mixture of cum and sand over my neck and face, finally wiping her gloves clean in my hair... “Now you know what it’s like” she said.

Linda tightened her grip and continued to mangle my nuts, even though my sac was empty and I was howling in pain. She was obviously convinced that she could wring more cum out of me (Without success)... Sheila finally stopped her abuse when a trickle of blood started oozing from my cock hole... Linda seemed put out that her nut crushing torture had been stopped prematurely. Annoyed that I was still intact after all her efforts, she added her final insult ... “I wish I could rip your bollocks off... Remember… It was me who had to clean your cock snot off my mothers sofa.”

As I shouted in anger and pain, the beach bag was forced over my head and the next phase of my humiliation began. ... The girls stood each side of me and took hold of my limbs, they lifted me bodily across the dunes and carried me to the edge of the open beach... Another small crater was prepared and I was once again carefully arranged into it... judging by the time taken to achieve this task, it was obviously essential to display my nuts correctly and subject my crotch to the full sun.

At this point I foolishly threatened what I was going do to them when I was released... I regretted my words instantly, as Linda slapped me repeatedly across the balls until my shouting turned to tears and I wept in pain... They then announced that they were going home and I heard their voices fade into the distance and I was left unattended... I was now in a state of panic, listening hard, as the beach noises filled my head.

After several minutes I heard soft footsteps on the sand and the sound of a camera snapping and winding... I could hear whispering voices... muffled laughter...Conversations... Who were they ? Why didn’t someone help me? ... Suddenly I felt a dog licking my neck and chest, and the voices of two elderly ladies now filled my ears. The towel bag was taken off my head as the Jack Russell was sniffing at my crotch... A crowd of people and several dogs were gathered around me.

The old ladies were extremely critical of my audience, and to my relief, most people left the scene. I was wiped down with the beach bag, and the task of releasing me began. Unfortunately, neither of the old ladies could untie the knot, which I had tightened during my captivity... They called to the remaining onlookers for help! Within a few seconds, two young women were attempting to undo my bonds... Again without success... I lay quietly whilst six or seven people took turns at attempting to untie the cord... All attempts failed, although one attempt seemed only half hearted, as a young man fiddled with the knot whilst his girlfriend, clad in a baywatch style red swimsuit, took photographs.

To add to my misery two of the dogs began to fight and I was showered in sand as they fought. One of the young women began brushing the sand from my body with her warm hand. Then flicking the towel bag around my scrotum, she pinched my tiny penis between her fingers and shook the sand from it; joking to her sister “I’m glad he’s circumcised”... The whole scene was extremely erotic and I noticed that the young man was obviously tuned on by the bizare situation, as his organ was straining noticeably against his red lycra briefs... However, after the abuse my genitals had taken earlier, my cock remained dormant.

I closed my eyes in embarrassment as someone in the crowd who I could not see whispered - “He is very petite… Isn’t he?” - “Yes… tiny… like a little acorn” returned another. The girl in the red swimsuit giggled at this comment and turned to her boyfriend saying “Great oaks from little acorns grow.” The crowd overheard this and everyone - even the old ladies - began to laugh.

As discussions took place upon what should be done next, I was repeatedly photographed the a young man. His grinning girlfriend in the red swimsuit pretending to untie me, raising my ankles high into the air... She was actually directing my crotch towards her boyfriend’s lens... I yelped in pain as she rolled me backwards and almost broke my neck. To my relief, one of the elderly ladies objected to their behaviour and they were finally ordered to stop. Laughing out loud the young man announced “I’ve got no film left anyway,” and they left the scene.

After a few minutes I heard a car engine and they had returned, driving a beach patrol Land Rover. I was carefully lifted onto a blanket in the rear of the vehicle and they drove off, saying that he would drive me straight to the first aid post... However, five minutes later we drove straight past the Red Cross hut and into the village.

The girl seemed very excited about something and I remember her singing to the little dog on her lap “Roasted nuts for tea” over and over again... I could see very little from where I lay in the back, but noticed when we had stopped that we were outside a small general store. The man passed the girl a ten pound note and reeled off a list of provisions: - “20 Bensons, two packets of Wrigleys, a card of 30amp fuse-wire, two disposable lighters and another packet of film.” During our short wait, I protested and asked to be untied. The young man took a squash ball from the dogs mouth and stuffed it into my own... It tasted and smelt revolting but it was wedged so firmly between my teeth that I could not dislodge it. The girl returned several minutes later and reported that she had everything… In fact she said that she had bought three lighters “Just in case”?

After driving for ten or fifteen minutes, the Land Rover finally shuddered to a stop and the noisy diesel engine was turned off. I was glad when the rear door was opened since it was extremely hot in the vehicle and I was panting and sweating like a pig. “Look at him… he’s all wet” she said, Prodding my dangling ball bag with the dogs leash... “That’s good” - said the young man, as he dragged me bodily toward the open doorway, until my arse hung over the tail gate... “A loose bag will be easier to work on.”

I did not have long to dwell on his “loose bag” comment before they began a well-rehearsed routine. The girl grabbed my scrotum with both hands and stretched its testicles off my body... Separating each within its own half sac and twisting them into two packages, like little sausages hanging off my crotch... She gripped one in each hand, pulling them clear of my groin and he quickly wound two turns of wire below each pouch and twisted the wire ends until each gonad was tightly contained within a pocket of scrotal flesh. He completed the task with a small pair of pliers, twisting the little wire nooses so tightly that the cords crunched, sounding like someone cutting celery with a blunt knife... The pinching pain was unbearable and the tears streamed down my cheeks. He turned to his girlfriend and said “Let’s have a fag… It’ll take a few minutes for them to numb”... They walked away for a smoke.

As he predicted, the pulsing pain soon turned into a sensation of pins and needles extending from my navel to my kneecaps. Eventually the whole of my groin felt numb, like it had received a heavy dose of novocaine.

They soon returned and he began by saying “We’ll need to prick them, or they’ll burst like cheap sausages”... The girl removed a long sharp pin from her hair band and without hesitation, skewered clean through each of my bollocks three times... As the first puncture entered each sac, the pressure within the tiny bag was released and jets of blood squirted from the glands. The wire turnuqae soon stopped the blood flow, until the only evidence of her recent assault was a slight trickle, which ran from each puncture wound... I tried to shout out as I watched the long needle wounding my balls, but the rubber gag filled my mouth, turning my yells into a muffled grunting.

The girl pleaded… “Let me do it this time”… He nodded his approval… She needed no further encouragement and quickly lit two of the gas lighters and set their flames to maximum - like miniature blowtorches. I now watched in horror as she aimed the flickering yellow flames at my testicles; advancing on my sac until the jets of burning gas surrounded my balls... I felt no real pain, just a warm glowing sensation as my gonads began to blister and hiss steam out from their body, out of the recently pricked holes. Within minutes the glands of my manhood turned from healthy pink flesh to red lobster meat and then to black charred coals... The scrotal flesh split open after about three minutes and the boiled offal dangled at the end of its own entrails. They remained attached to me for a few seconds, until she directed the flames at their point of connection and melted the cords… I could hear the Jack Russell barking excitedly as the roasted nuts dropped off into the dog’s bowl... I WAS A EUNUCH.

She continued with her incineration until the gas expired and the flames died... The young man (now naked) was masturbating his massive tool with a slow rhythmic stroke... His cock standing proudly on large balls as he drew his long foreskin back and forth over his swollen purple gland. The air was filled with a putrid smell as my flesh crackled and smoked. Only then did the young man stop wanking and assisted by brushing the ash from my crotch, leaving two black buttons either side of my empty pouch.

She pleaded again. “Let me prune his little acorn”. They both laughed out loud and again he nodded his approval, passing her the wire coil... She first threaded a length of narrow nylon pipe into my cock hole, inserting several inches into my body. She then wound two turns of wire around the base of my terrified organ and using the pliers as skillfully as any tradesman she twisted the clamp tight. The pliers were quickly exchanged for a sharp blade and with a single delicate stroke she sliced off my tiny member at the wire binder. She took possession of the acorn holding it in the palm of her right hand, gleefully lifting it away from me and unthreading it off the nylon pipe. Then she offered it for her boyfriend’s inspection... He lowered his nob onto her outstreched fingers and ejaculated his heavy load over their prize.

Her expression was of pure excstacy... “I did it good - Didn’t I.”