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I moved to town for a new job, found a great appartment in a cool neighborhood. A few weeks later I discovered that there was a gay stripper bar within a doable walk from the apartment. After the discovery I started going on a semi-regular basis a couple times a month. I would generally hang out in a dark corner, the boyz would visit collecting a couple dollars in there g-strings and me coping a good feel of all the merchandise. One evening I got a bit agressive with the "pretty" boy in the troop, Nick. I squeezed his left nut a bit hard and he popped a woody. At first he seemed to not like it, but a kiss on the lips changed my perception. He returned to the stage after getting another dollar from me and was rock hard the whole time he was on stage. He wore a red g-string and there was an obvious wet spot. I had to head home, unfortunately I needed to be at work early the next morning. That next morning I found out I had to go out of town for 3 weeks for work, no stripper boys for nearly a month. After retuning from my work travels I was swamped at work so I missed another week seeing the boyz. Finally made a return trip to the bar. After waiting for an hour my boy, Nick, was on stage. After his first set he wandered around the bar filling his g-string with dollars, he seemed to avoid the general area where I was standing. Finally, he came over and smiled at me putting his hands behind his back. Then he leaned forward and wispered in my ear "make me hard again, Sir" I smiled and grabbed hold. At first I just played gently. Slowly I took a good hold of the left nut and squeezed. His head went back and he closed his eyes. In moments he was hard. I played for several minutes, then he said he needed to get on stage again. He did two sets stopping by me each time to get hard before returning to the stage. After his last set he disappeared. Then just as I was about to head for the door someone said "excuse me, Sir" I turned and almost didn't recognize Nick with his clothes on. We chatted about nonsense and then he said he really enjoyed the ball work. One thing lead to another and we started walking back to my place. Once inside my apartment the boy in Nick came out completely. He asked if I lived alone and I said yes. He stripped completely without direction and assumed a parade rest submissive position. I then went to my bedroom and got the hand cuffs. When I retuned the boy saw the cuffs and promptly turned around with his hands still behind his back. I then lead him to the bedroom. As I worked his balls he moaned. I got more agressive. He then said "Sir, please gag me so you can be a brutal as you want without disturbing your neighbors, Sir", fotunately I had a gag handy, I went to town on the boyz balls. I almost felt bad being so rough, they would surely be at least a bit swollen in the morning and bruised. I must say he took it like a champ. I left him go in the morning, he had bruises and very sore nuts and trouble walking too fast. The following three weeks he was not to be found at the stripper bar. I thought I had been too rough. The forth week he was back. He revisited our previous pattern and danced the night hard as a rock. Again, he came home with me submitting to me and enduring severe CBT. Seven more similar encounters followed. On the eighth time a turn of events. This evening after getting Nick imobilized on the bed as I was about to gag him he asked for permission to speak, I agreed. He told me that he was about to graduate from college and was offered a job several hundred miles away. He was quite for a few moments and continued saying that he had never been more content than when I abused him. Then he took a deep breath, tears rolled down the side of his face he quivered a bit and said "Sir, I want you to have something to rememeber me by, Sir" I said that would be nice, but that I would remember him always. Then he said "Sir, please take which ever nut you like, Sir" I was taken aback, and said he should spell out what it was he was offering. He said he wanted me to gag him, slit open his sack and cut off a nut after pounding the crap out of them. I spent the next three hours pounding and abusing those beauties. Then I slowly preped the left nut, it was the one I originally used to make him hard. Slowly I slit the sack open, tears were streaming down his face, the nut was soon exposed and I used some binder clips from my desk drawer to clamp it off. When clamping the boy thrashed desperately, more than ever before. I spent the next couple hours watching it die "on the vine" so to speak. As it was near dead I took my kitchen shears and freed it from it's teather to the boy. Nick spent the remainder of the weekend at my place recovering, his lost nut in a jar of alchohol on the night stand next to the bed. On Monday morning Nick left, I haven't seen him since but I do have a piece to remember him by. |