Meg cynched the rope tightly around the base of her rotund sack. Between her thick thighs, her balls were swollen and discolored as she pulled the knot tight. It was clear that the raven haired woman was unconcerned with being seen; today she hadn’t even bothered to wait for the sun to go down. As the late afternoon sun flecked her creamy white flesh through the trees, she finished her preparations.

The rope was taught, slung over a thick branch of a nearby tree, hanging down the other side to anchor to an old log. With the rope taught, Meg could easily just lean back, using the branch as a pulley, tightening the noose around her testicles and pulling them away from her body, effectively strangling her ballooning male endowment. Meg’s penis was already erect. Just thinking about the torment her balls were about to endure sent shivers down her spine.

Tentatively, she leaned back, giving the rope it’s first test. Her balls swelled as it tightened, skin stretching as they were pulled. Giggling, Meg leaned back further. The chubby woman probably looked quite the sight. Standing in her yard, leg’s spread, balls tied and swollen, with a rope ascending into the trees pulling them outward from her abdomen like two overripe fruits.

With a gasp and a moan, her hand slide down to her throbbing length, grasping the rigid meat tower, foreskin sliding back over her head. Slowly, her hand slides up and down that shaft, working up her trembling flesh. Further she steps, pulling her balls harder, tighter, further. She winces as her skin stretches, an angry red color already.

Her pace quickens, large breasts bouncing, her curvaceous form jiggling lewdly as she pumps her masculine organ, the wet slapping of her flesh echoing through the trees as she masturbates. Back, back she goes, pulling harder in her sensitive balls, the delicate orbs, veins bulging painfully over their tight, round form, both her testicles compacted into a single round sack. Her flesh strains as her hand blurs on her shaft, teeth grit as pain and pleasure wash over her. As usual, Meg came quickly, a massive gout of semen erupting from her cock, her screaming balls crying out for mercy as she pumped a huge load onto her chest, spattering her face with sticky, white goo.

Then it happened.

The rope grew slack for just a second as the log dislodged itself. It hadn’t moved in years, and suddenly now it broke free from it’s rocky resting place, lurching forward, pulled free by her weight. Then, just as quickly, it rolled backward, the much greater weight of the felled tree pulling it away from Meg…down a slope behind her home. Meg shrieked as the rope began to pull back, dragging her forward by her testicles, stretching them to the breaking point, the skin holding them to her body turning a sickly white! Forward, Meg lurched, at the mercy of gravity until even the weight of the log could drag her no further. She was directly beneath the branch, now, feet barely touching the ground, her balls pulled straight upward with tremendous pressure as she nearly dangled entirely by her testicles.

Meg cursed herself. Not only for her carelessness, but for not being in between shape. Hanging as she was, she couldn’t raise herself high enough to untie her balls! It was the equivalent of doing a sit up, and, Meg realized, she was far too chubby to do even one, let alone hold herself there long enough to untie something!

So, there she dangled, helpless. Her balls were on fire, a deep angry red, nearly stretched a foot from her body. Her penis still twitched, cum oozing from the large, rigid flesh. As time passed and the pain grew more intense, Meg began to cry.

Hours later, well after night had fallen, Meg swam back to consciousness. Passing out from the pain, she realized, was becoming too common to be considered normal. Even for her. Looking down, or rather, up, now, past her big breasts and stomach, Meg was greeted by a familiar sight.

“…still there…” She mused quietly as she saw her balls, trussed up and hanged. Purple though they were, they were still attached…for now.

Again Meg began to squirm, trying helplessly to reach the knot, flailing hands comically pawing at the air. With a grunt and a groan she struggled, but had little success. It was at this impass that she noticed something moving. Slowly, but moving, further up the rope, descending from the tree. Confused, she watched for a moment until the horror of it washed over her face, eyes wide with terror.

Whatever kind of spider it was, it was huge. Meg couldn’t tell for sure, but it was definitely the size of a plate. She could probably wear the thing as a hat, if she were so inclined. To her horror, however, it would reach another head first.

As prickly, hairy legs caressed her badly battered balls, Meg shuddered involuntarily. The arachnid seemed content, circling her huge sac, exploring, apparently. Tears welled up in Meg’s eyes once more as it sat there, seemingly transfixed with her masculine orbs. Meg, on the other hand, was quite disgusted. This disgust only lasted so long, however, as the giant spider came to a decision. Meg’s balls were, in fact, made of meat. This meant one thing for the spider: They were edible.

Meg shrieked as fangs pierced her already tender sack, a searing agony rippling through her nuts as the creature’s venom spilled into her. Her hips bucked as she whimpered and cried, struggling to dislodge her arachnid attacker. Again it bit her, this time her other testicle, and pain filled Meg’s world. Her mind flashed back to ever nature show she’d ever seen; remembering what a spider’s venom does to it’s victims. Meg imagined her testicles liquefying in her sack, dissolving in the corrosive liquid, her entire sex life melting away between her thighs. She imagined her penis shriveling up, the monster in her lap shrinking to a small, rubbery noodle as her balls were destroyed.

Meg winced as a profusion of ejaculate hit her face, her spasming cock releasing another load of seed.

It wasn’t until the next day that Meg managed to free herself. Or rather, that Meg got lucky. The log was old, and fairly rotted. As Meg struggled helplessly through the night, during her nocturnal attack (and emissions), the log was simultaneously whittled by the moving rope and moved by the weight pulling on it. Eventually, it shifted sideways and the rope was able to slide off, sending the nude Meg sprawling onto her back, her big breasts and face soaked in her own cum. Between her spread thighs, however, Meg had a new problem. Meg’s sack was now the size of a basketball, and, to her horror, she couldn’t tell if it still contained testicles….