|
I rubber banded him. Just two big thick rubber bands, the kind you can get at any hobby store did the trick. Yes sir it did. And you know what? I'm not sorry either. Sure, yeah, I don't like the cell, and I don't like being here, but still, at least I know he doesnt have his balls and that makes being here a hell of a lot easier. I'll never forget that night as long as I live, or his expression either as I was doing him. The kid was pretty strong, and it took a major effort to get his hands behind his back and ziptied. Yeah, a twenty cent ziptie and two five cent rubber bands was all it took to neuter him. Why you asked? That part is simple. The asshole fucked my little sister after a football game one night, just fucked her, and then after he had wet his dick and had his fun he dumped her for another. My sister cried for weeks, and when you are a senior in high school and you've been fucked and used by your boyfriend and then dumped like a piece of trash, it messes up your head. She was really hurting inside, really hurting, and I just couldn't stand it anymore. So, yeah, that's why I did it, why I nutted him, and like I said, I'm not sorry about it either. The ziptie was one of those really thick ones, a cable tie used to bind thick bundles of wire. There was no way he could get his wrists out of the thing once I had it cinched up nice and tight. I also threw one around his feet while he was in my van, just to make sure while I was driving him. The cable ties were a hell of a lot easier than using rope, and once I had his hands out of the way and his feet trussed together then the rest of it was easy. Yeah. I put him in my van and drove him all the way out to the Canter County line. Fifty four miles, in the middle of fucking nowhere. When I finally stopped the van the asshole was scared shitless. I think he thought I was gonna kill him, and hell, I probably should have. But killing's not my thing, and besides, I wanted him to live, without his balls of course. Still, when I got his jeans down he sure struggled hard, and he was none-to-happy while I was wrapping that first big rubber band around and around his sac of balls. For a teenage boy he had a big scrotum, with a thick nest of hair black above his thick pole. He was built, with a flat stomach ripped with horizontal lines. He had the swimmer's body, lean and tall, with deep brown eyes. He had the short haircut of a country boy too, and a wisp of hair just sprouting its way across his upper lip. I don't think he was shaving very often. The thin wisp of a mustache caught my attention though, and I remember looking at it as I was holding his balls and pulling down on them. I had the thought that his mustache growing days were over. As I was staring at it he was screaming at me, and when I started wrapping that second band of rubber around the top of that sac of his he started going ballistic. He sure didn't like that one bit! For an eighteen year old high school senior he sure cussed up a storm too, and as I remember it I was laughing as I was doing him. The strange part of it all was he got hard right after I trussed up his balls with those two pieces of rubber. He had a big dick, and when I saw that pole of his jutting up from his groin I kept thinking about it and how he had used it to fuck my sis, and well, I almost thought of taking it too. But, hell, I knew once his balls were gone it wouldn't be good for much, and sure as shit soon enough the stud wouldn't even be jacking off anymore. But still, as he was laying there on his back in my van, with me sitting on his legs and holding his trussed up balls, I kept looking at the boy's eager pole. The tip of the thing was glistening. Now, the one thing I'm not so proud of was that I sucked him off. I don't know why, but I did. I think it was because his pole was just fucking staring at me, stiff and hard and eager even, and when I was looking at it and holding his banded balls I just decided to go down on the thing, and to wrap my lips around his shaft and to pump it with my mouth as I held his trussed up balls with my hand. That seemed fitting at the time, to suck the boy's wad out of his nuts before I killed them. Don't ask me why because I don't know. I think I did it because I wanted his last wad to be swallowed by a guy, instead of deposited into some pussy. Yeah, maybe that's it? Anyway, while I don't know why, nevertheless I did suck him off. Yeah...and he didn't like it, or at least from his yelling and cussing he didn't like it. But it didn't take very long to squirt, and in less than five minutes he started grunting, and then he just came. He arched his back and shot a big load and it literally splashed down my throat as I was drinking his jism. He was squirming and jerking as he squirted like a fire hose, and I remember thinking as I was slurping up his spunk that he had once shot a load just like it right into my sister's pussy. Yeah, I milked him dry, sucked him until there was nothing left to suck. I even sucked him after he shot, just kept working on the head of his dick until he was totally spent and his pole softened in my mouth. Yeah...only then, when his pole was nothing but a limp, wet noodle, did I spit out the boy's useless worm. There wasn't much to do after that. I already had the bands on nice and tight, so I just pulled up his Joe Boxer shorts and buttoned up his jeans. Of course, I left his hands ziptied, bound with that thick cable tie, cause I didn't want him fooling with his balls or taking off the two rubber bands. Then, well, the rest was easy. I cut the band around his feet, and then I just kicked him out of the van. He stood up then, and started begging me then, and I laughed at him as he stared at me and felt his nuts noosed up nice and tight in his pants. Then I drove off, leaving him there on that dirt road and miles from anywhere. When I think about that, and the expression on his face as he was feeling his balls dying between his legs, it makes me want to laugh. I took his last load of spunk, and then I killed his balls. Yeah, its a funny thing, don't you think? I don't know really what happened exactly after that. I guess he spent most of that night walking along that road, trying to find a farmhouse or something or someone to help him. I don't know exactly who found him either, or when, but I do know it wasn't soon enough for his balls. I think I still get a lot of satisfaction from that, knowing that boy got to feel his balls slowly strangle, dying there on the vine as they hung between his legs, stuffed in his jeans and boxers and he helpless to do anything but feel it happen. Somebody did eventually find him of course, and so he went to the hospital and I went to jail. I don't imagine he's fucked any more pussy. No, I don't imagine he has. As for me, well, I havent either of course, but the strangest part is, I havent had the desire. For some reason, after I swallowed his teenage load, I missed it. The boy's cream was a lot sweeter tasting that I had imagined it would be, and of course, here, in jail, there is plenty of spunk and lots of willing cocks. So, I get my own rocks off regularly, and each time I squirt I laugh inside, and enjoy the feeling of having balls and pumping out my load. When I'm doing that, I often think of him, and his soft little worm of a cock now hanging useless above his empty sac. [Authors note: Adult fiction. ©Copyright February, 2005. All rights reserved. Not to be copied without the consent of the author. [email protected]] |