Ballbreaking gladiator pt.1

The weather that day was hot and humid, which made the large enclosed wooden box that we sat in even more uncomfortable. There were only slivers of light that ran through the tiny spaces between the boards.

There were two wooden benches on either side of the room, on which we all sat, waiting. All of us inside this cube are the slaves of Miss Monikae Rae Ain, a pale skinned, fiery haired, woman. She trained us to fight in these games, we are the elite. There are 40 of us total. We trained every day for a year, just to represent our mistress in these games.

We are all naked, save for the oval mirrored crystal faceplates, which cover most of your head and the straps that hold it in place cover the rest, and the colored leather bands, which tied the scrotum just above the testicles. There are 2 reasons for the band, 1 to identify who you belonged to (Monikae’s color was red), and 2 to keep the testicles down, and away from the body, to make them easier to attack.

We were all silent, unmoving. Anticipating, planning. We all are perfect specimens of the male species, young, slender, perfectly trained and toned bodies. We sweat as in the hot box, and our balls hung low.

The time came, we heard the crowd outside in the coliseum cheer, then our door was opened and light flooded in. Monikae and a few other of her man handlers were standing in the doorway smiling, then they threw a pile of leashes on the floor and told us to put them on, we did. Then with all the leashes in the hand of a woman, we were led to the arena center. There were hundreds of teams there, all different colors, the arena was full, of contestants and spectators.

The leashes were undone (the straps remained), and we were all given, short wooden staffs with rubber spheres on each end, these are for the first game, which we weed out the weak. The trainer’s left the ring and the horn sounded, it began. With an upward swing I smashed the balls of the man nearest to me, and he went down, dropping his staff holding his bruised man hood, but I was not done, I kicked him over onto his back, and smashed the staff into his balls 3 more times, on the third time I felt his left nut pop. I looked around for my next opponent.

I had by now a huge erection; the feeling of breaking balls is the best in the world. I continued to smash balls until some one smashed mine from behind, I gasped and stumbled, turning to see my opponent, he had a yellow marker around his nuts, I was determined to castrate this man for what he did, I kicked him several times, and as he lay on his belly on the ground in pain, I grabbed his balls and squeezed, he tried to wriggle out of my grasp but I had a firm grip. As I gripped harder, I twisted and pulled, until felt those two little cords break, but I still gripped tighter until they popped.

The horn blew again and the fighting stopped, all the trainers came back out and collected their fighters. Those who were not standing were castrated on the spot. All others were taken back to there boxes to prepare for the next day