They had each been subdued and captured separately. They awoke, cold, naked, bound, gagged, and chained to a wall. In walked a woman. The outside corridor was so bright all they could make of her was her silhouette. She had a perfect figure and a gentile, seductive sway in her hips as she walked. The clack of her stilettos on the concrete floor was rhythmic.

“Ah! You’re all awake. Excellent, this will make my job easier.” She said in a matter of fact tone, yet her voice was sultry.

She began to fasten something to the first guy’s scrotum, then to the other three, one at a time. Once they were all tightly tethered to each other’s manhood, she released them from the wall.

“You will follow me.” She instructed as she tugged on the cable connected to the forth man. He grimaced with obvious discomfort in his groin. She proceeded out the door she had entered. He struggled to keep up, hit feet were bound with little slack forcing him to shuffle them an inch or so at a time. The others followed as quickly, lest their testicles be painfully stretched if they fell behind.

Once their eyes adjusted to the bright light, they could see that the woman was dressed in a tight leather cat suit which left little to their imagination. As they all started to become aroused by the visual stimulus, their mistress stopped to look at them. A look of disgust came upon her face as she saw the men becoming erect.

“There will be none of that until you are instructed to do so.” she said as she pressed button on the leash connecting them all. An electric current pulsed down the cable, shocking the men in their most sensitive area. They felt as though they had been tasered. Their erections subsided almost immediately.

Four other women entered the room, dressed as the first, each wearing a mask concealing their identities.

One of them spoke “You have each been selected at random to participate in a contest, ‘The Survival of the Longest’. You will soon be each chained to the wall behind you, instead of each other. One of my assistants here will each stimulate you to a full erection and measured. The three smallest of you will have your testicles crushed beyond medical repair. Men’s penises are far too small in general to properly satisfy women, so we are taking a proactive step to remove such undesirables from the gene pool. The largest of you will be spared the crushing of his testicles, which is the reward for winning this contest.”

She then snapped her fingers and the men were chained to the wall, and their testicular restraints removed. The other women kneeled in front of a man each, and began to stroke and fondle their penises and testicles to bring them to erection.

These women had hands of goddesses and expertly brought each to the brink of ecstasy, but stopping just before they climaxed. The leader then measured the first, “Four and a half.”, the second “Five and a quarter”, the third “Three”, the women giggled, the second man relaxed a bit, knowing he was the biggest so far, the fourth breathed a sigh of relief as he was rather proud of his proportion. “Six and a half.” Was the final measurement.

The first three men began to sweat profusely, anticipating the demise of their manhood, imagining the extreme pain they would suffer, though one can never truly know the torment which they are about to suffer unless actually enduring it.

The winner had a flux of conflicting emotions. Relieved beyond description that he would remain a man, but also sympathetic to the three strangers about to suffer the cruelest punishment.

The leader addressed the men and women. “We have a winner for today’s contest, ladies, please band these… men…” there was obvious contempt in her voice as she referred to the men, “We do not want tainted blood working back into their systems.”

The winner was flabbergasted when his mistress snapped on, not one, but two bands on his testicles. The first pushing his balls to the bottom is his scrotum, stretching it so much that the protective sac itself was squeezing its contents mercilessly, and the second high up, almost burying itself in his loins.

The other’s saw that he too was suffering with them and were equally baffled and concerned. “He was to be spared, but is being band just like we are.” they though. “Oh God, what else are they going o do?”

The pain of the bands and from his own scrotum crushing his testicles seemed unbearable. He was sweating almost as much as the others. The gag prevented him from voicing his objections, but the confused look on his face spoke for him. “Don’t worry,” said his mistress, “you will get to keep your precious little balls.” But this did not alleviate his tension.

Starting with the shortest of the other three, a plexi-glass contraption was mounted on his testicles. There were two panes, his aching testicles wedged between them. Each corner had a nut and bolt which were being tightened, one turn each at a time. His poor testicles flattening with each turn. The agony was so intense that one would expect a person to pass out, but in fact, it seemed to keep him conscious and aware… aware of the pain if nothing else. Over half way closed; his flattened genitals resembled a Rorschach drawing.

The leader announced with a certain lack of sympathy “By now you may be able to appreciate what a woman feels when having a mammogram.”

The bolts continued to be turned, the thick plexi-glass plates pressing closer together. The three inch man’s scream of pure, unrelenting, excruciating suffering was unmistakable, even muffled by a tight gag. The other men were almost vomiting with sympathetic pain, hopping they would somehow be spared that fate.

Their hopes were in vain. As the final turns were made, the three inch man let out a blood curdling cry that could not be recognized as human. He thrashed violently about his restraints before finally passing out. The plexi-glass was removed, his mangled manhood severed between the green bands, leaving a tiny, shriveled penis.

As the plates were affixed to the next man, he screamed for mercy through his gag, his eyes begged to be spared, but his tormenters were unmoved. They callously introduced him to his fate. He experienced what he fist did, and what the next would after him.

Once the plates were removed form the third man, they proceeded to attach them to the winner. They relentlessly tightened the bolts, but stopped with about a quarter inch to spare. The four ladies stepped aside and allowed their leader to approach.

He was in agony; he could hardly focus on anything but the pain between his legs. His eyes were rolling in his head. He wanted to die. In fact, he was willing himself to die. But he was struggling between pain and consciousness. Just as he felt the numbness of unconsciousness, the pain brought him back. This went on for what seemed to him an eternity.

The leader grabbed his jaw, moved his head to face her. “You may have bested your opponents in our contest, but at six and a half inches, you are still far from satisfactory proportions to please a woman.” She announced.

“I cannot, in good conscious, allow you to breed, and spread your pathetic genes, propagating further generations of tiny dicked men.” She lectured. “I did promise that you would not have your testicles crushed to oblivion, so they will not be. They will be released from this contraption momentarily.” She explained as she tapped on the plexi-glass, intensifying his pain further, almost bringing him to full alertness.

“You were told you would be able to keep your balls, and that will be honored.”

With that last comment, the device was removed; his testicles restored themselves to a shape that better resembled testicles, though much more swollen.

The release of the device in turn release some pressure off some nerves, which then transmitted additional pain signals to his brain. At this point, pain was all he was aware of. Pain throughout his body. He was not aware of anything else to the point where pain could not describe it. For without pleasure to compare it to, what is pain? He finally drifted of to the embrace of unconsciousness.

He came to some time later, in an alley near where he last remembered being before. Compared to the torture he endured he hardly noticed the dull ache in his groin. Still dizzy and disoriented from the experience, he tried to piece together the past few hours.

He was at a bar, had a few drinks, and flirted with a couple hot girls who teased him with the promise of a threesome. He could remember that they were beautiful, but that was it. He must have gotten so drunk and passed out in this alley where he had the most bizarre nightmare. He then patted his crotch, confident it was just a bad dream. His briefs felt as full as always.

He walked back to the bar and was greeted by some familiar faces. “The twins!” he remembered. Thee were still here, he didn’t blow his chance with them after all.

“There did you go the other night?” they asked.

Slightly confused because he though it must still be the same night, he began “What do you mean…”

They cut him off “Never mind, we still owe you a fun time!” and handed a hot of tequila, then escorted him to their apartment.

They performed a strip tease for him, undressing each other. Then, once they were naked, they undressed him.

They stopped for a moment or two to admire his package, his penis had grown to its fullest. As he stood there, the twins slowly peeled his briefs down to his ankles. As he looked down at them he saw the strangest look in their faces. He thought at first that it must be awe, but he was mistaken.

“W-whe-where are your balls?” one of them asked.

“What do you mean, there right down there” he exclaimed. He looked down at his crotch, but further down he saw the irony of his comment… his balls were right down there… on the floor… in his underwear.

It all came back to him. It was not a dream, but a real life nightmare. The mysterious women had in fact tortured and castrated him. But they did keep their word… the let him keep his balls.