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I met these two 18-year old guys. They've never fucked a real woman before, only teenage girls. I promise them a fuck they'll never forget if they come to my place. It's only a matter of time before I have them in my basement. They notice two harnesses hanging from the ceiling and I explain that in order to fuck me they have to let me tie them up. They're only too eager to cooperate, thrilled that I want to do something kinky with them. I watch them undress, enjoying the revealing of their boyish bodies. I especially enjoy the sight of their penises springing free from their briefs. They have those perfect hardons all teenage boys get. My pussy is oozing already. I make them stand under the harnesses and tie them in with efficiency, locking the straps in place, letting their erections press against my stomach, chest, and face. Then, using velvet ropes, I tie each of their feet to hubs on the floor so that their legs are spread far apart. I tell them I am doing this so that I can have better access to their boy parts, which is the truth. I kiss their balls and nibble their sacks while I work.
Now that the two are secure, I announce that I am going to invite over a female friend if it's alright with them. They heartily approve, so I ring you up and tell you to hurry over because I've got a couple of naked men in my basement. I put on some music and do a slow, easy-going strip tease for the guys while we wait for you to arrive. When I'm down to my thong, I'm sure the guys can see my bush through the fabric -- my cunt is soaking the silk. I finally get it off and relish the feeling of nakedness -- my nipples are taut, the air feels cool on my moistened mound, and the guy's dicks are purple with lust for me. I almost feel pity for them. When the doorbell rings, I tell them to keep their cocks hard as I'll be back in a little while. A few minutes pass, and the two of us descend the stairs nude, carrying black handbags. You walk over to Guy One and, glancing at his pubes, you ask, "Mind if I inspect the goods?" He tells you to please go ahead. You cup his balls, noting that they resemble hen eggs in size and weight. You also run your hand along the length of his schlong. It is feverish to your touch and you judge it to be about seven inches in length, one-and-a-half in diameter. You next inspect Guy Two and make similar findings. While you examine the men's equipment, I remove the contents of our bags and place them on the table. There is a pair of brass nuckles, a jar of lubricant, an eight-inch strapon dildo, a pair of ball gags, a chrome-plated elastrator with neon green bands, and a carving knife. As I put on the strapon I announce that I intend to give each guy an ass-fuck he'll always remember. "When I'm through sodomizing you," I say, "you'll think your assholes are reincarnated cunts." They begin to protest loudly, but we gag them in seconds. You open the jar of lubricant and apply it generously to my nine inches of black rubber with a slow, sensuous motion, as if it were a real penis. I get behind Guy One, pry apart his cheeks, and push the head of my cock into his hole. You giggle as his cock jumps with the penetration. Squeezing his balls, I push my oiled shaft into his fudgehole until I bottom out, provoking a muffled scream. I tell you to hand me knife. Applying pressure with the strapon, I pull the gag out of his mouth. He is panting and wincing in agony. "Tell me the truth," I hiss in his ear, "it's not entirely unpleasant, is it? There's something good about getting your ass reamed, isn't there?" He admits that there is, to our amusement. You hand me the knife and I touch the cold edge against the base of his scrotum. His cock jumps again at the stimulating contact. "I dare you to cum," I tell him. Placing the knife on the floor, I resume fucking his ass. He grunts and groans with every thrust, his hips buck, he fucks the air, and his cock grows even bigger. You can't help but finger yourseld as you watch me bugger the hell out of this guy. Guy Two stares in horror. After ten minutes of reaming the punk's fudgehole, I pause momentarily. I embrace him and kiss his neck, mingling his sweat with mine. "Does it still hurt?" I ask him, like I really care. "A little," he answers. "Good," I reply with a malicious grin. I give his balls a good squeeze, eliciting a whiny groan. "Just trying to help," I say, "it seems like you're not ready to cum." Of course he's not. He is mortally afraid of cuming -- afraid that I will slice off his balls as soon as he shoots his sperm. He wants to cum, but he is resisting the urge with amazing self-discipline. "Perhaps my friend can get those stubborn balls to release their stuff," say, winking my eye at you. With a smirk, you turn to the table and put on the brass knuckles. "I'll beat the sperm out of you," you say, fixing the man with a vicious stare. You draw back your right hand and lay into him like lighting. His scrotum is your punching bag. You hammer on as he howls with pain. His friend looks sick. After several minutes of ball boxing, you let your hands fall to your side. His plums have swollen horribly. Tears are streaming down his face. "Damn," you curse, "those are tough kiwis." "I guess we'll just have to cut them off," I sigh. "What!?!" He screams. "Why?! I didn't cum!" "Exactly," I say, pushing my strapon back into the hilt. "They're obviously defective, so there's no point in your keeping them." "I thought you didn't want me to cum. I can cum if you want me to," he offers, his voice reeking of anxiety. "I don't think so," I counter. "If you didn't cum from an ass-fuck," I say, emphasizing my point with another thrust, "and a ball-beating, your balls are pretty well useless." He contirues to protest, but I tick the gag back in place and finally draw my strapon out of his anus. You press his dick up against his belly while I load a band onto the elastrator. I yank on his sack, stretching it a good distance from his body and push the band up to the scrotal base. I release the band and it closes tight with a cruel snap. I lick my lips, imagining the pain. We embrace and kiss and press our pussies and boobs together while massaging his cock and dying balls in turn. Once his balls have turned a dark plum, I pick up my knife again. His cock is so hard that is standing almost straight up -- there is no need to hold it out of the way. With one swift cut I sever his balls. Guy Two faints as I hold the bloody scrotum high above my head. I separate the balls from the sack and offer one to you. Standing in front of Guy One, who is staring in shock, we pop the tender fruits into our mouths and bite down, causing him to pass out. After we have thoroughly chewed and savored Guy One's ball meat I tell you Guy Two is your call. So: what do you want to do?
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