Blue Balls II or Yann's Demise

After having his balls removed Yann takes the next step

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Blue Balls II or Yann’s Demise

By

Bernie

The usual disclaimers apply. This is a work of fiction and any 
similarity to individuals dead or alive is strictly coincidental. 
This is written for select audiences who wish to read such works. 
If you are not at least 18 years of age or such works are against 
the law where you reside, please click the back button now.

 

As you may recall, Yann had just had his tattooed ball sack removed 
by Kyle along with his balls, and had been handed over to the not 
so tender mercies of Hill.

 

Hill grabbed the manacled wrists, which were secured behind Yann's 
back and dragged him out of the van. Hill had a special, if short 
night, planned for Yann. At the end of it, Yann would no longer 
exist, and Hill would have meat to last a month. But it would be 
the longest night Yann had ever experienced. Yann stumbled as he 
was pulled from the van, landing hard on his ass on the cold 
concrete of the garage. Hitting the floor as he did put pressure on 
the stitches holding closed the fresh wound where his balls had 
once been. It was just the start of a night to be filled with pain.

Hill stood an impressive six foot six inches and weighed an equally 
impressive two hundred thirty five pounds of solid muscle. In his 
late forties, he could easily pass for someone ten years his 
junior. He wore his hair short, and his dark mustache set off his 
deeply set brown eyes. Sexually, he was a mean top who loved to 
torment his property then turn them into several meals to augment 
his grocery bill. And he was a true sadist. The more pain he 
inflicted on his property, the more pleasure he took from it. 

Yann, was a slim Frenchman, who’d allowed the sun to turn his 
hairless chest and skin a deep golden tan, and bleach his naturally 
light brown hair almost gold, which set off his emerald green eyes. 
A man whose ample uncut seven-inch cock had up to now been backed 
up by large smooth shaved balls and coupled with a very pert ass 
was the envy of many. While he was pushing 40 at age 39, his looks 
and demeanor made him look much younger. He was going to age 
considerably this night.

Hill yelled, "Get the fuck on your feet you miserable asshole" 
while savagely pulling on Yann's tied wrists.

Yann struggled to his feet and shuffled along behind as Hill 
unlocked the door to his playroom. Hill pulled Yann into the room 
as he turned on the lights. Spotlights highlighted each special 
area. The stake to which some souls had been secured and whipped 
until the skin hung in ribbons from their backs. The X shaped cross 
to which others had been tied and parts of them removed piece by 
piece for the enjoyment of Hill's friends. The suspended wrist 
shackles and ankle restraints where still others were hoisted and 
stretched until their arms and legs jumped from their sockets, only 
then to be slowly disemboweled and dismembered. The roasting pit, 
where, well you get the idea. And the cauldron, where some were 
placed in the tepid water and then slowly felt it come towards a 
boil. This room had witnessed many a painful death. Tonight would 
be no different.

"Just what should I do with you tonight Yann", Hill asked his 
captive.

Yann didn't reply as he was in shock from the events of the 
evening. He knew he was going to lose his balls, but he didn't 
expect to end up here. He really hadn't given any thought to what 
would occur after Kyle had finished with him. But being turned over 
to Hill had certainly not been part of what he thought would occur. 
These events had literally left him speechless. Not that anything 
he could say would save him now. 

Hill dragged Yann to the wrist and ankle restraints. He applied the 
cuff first to the right leg and then quickly followed with the 
left. Hill lowered the wrist cuffs on their chains and removed the 
manacles binding Yann's wrists. He quickly secured the wrist cuffs 
in place and then backed away from his captive. At the press of a 
simple switch the chains attached to the wrist cuffs started to 
retract into the darkness of the ceiling. All too soon, Yann was 
feeling his arms lifted over his head as the chains continued to 
take up their slack. As his arms were pulled out and up he felt his 
feet leave the floor. All too soon he had felt the ankle cuffs 
start to exert pressure on his legs as chains continued to pull him 
upward. He was being pulled apart as though he was on an invisible 
rack in the air. Hill stopped the motion as the tension in Yann's 
body began to show itself. His arms were pulled out taut, as were 
his legs. His back was ramrod straight, and his stomach was pulled 
in towards his backbone as he moaned in his pain. Yann was now 
completely exposed to whatever Hill wanted to do. 

And the first thing Hill wanted to do was get his rocks off. Hill 
peeled off his leathers and stroked his eight inch thick cock to 
full hardness. He stepped up behind Yann, placing his prick in the 
valley of his butt. With his height, Hill's cock was perfectly 
placed to spear into Yann's raised ass. Wasting no time, Hill spit 
into his hand twice, spread the juice on his cock and lunged 
forward burying his cock into Yann's unlubed ass. Yann let out a 
startled scream of pain as the cock tore through his sphincter. 
Hill didn't miss a beat but started a slow fuck of Yann's ass. He 
pulled out to the head and then slammed himself back in time after 
time. Slowly Hill increased his tempo, tearing in and out of Yann's 
distended asshole and building up speed. Yann had recovered from 
the initial shock and to his surprise found his own prick rising to 
the occasion. The faster Hill fucked him the harder his cock became 
as Hill hit his prostate on each pass. Hill felt the stiffening of 
Yann's prick and reached around to start jacking Yann in time with 
his thrusts. Finally Hill couldn't hold back anymore. He clamped 
his teeth on Yann's right ear lobe and bit down hard as he came. 
Yann's scream from the pain of the bite coincided with his own 
eruption of jizz punctuated by the pulses as Hill emptied himself 
in Yann's ass. While Yann's balls may have been gone, his prostate 
was still working fine and produced what would most likely be his 
last orgasm.

Yann was spent; his body in pain, and at the point where he didn't 
care what Hill did to him from here on out. Hill on the other hand 
was just getting interested in what he would do with Yann. He 
looked around the room and decided on the pit. He could enjoy 
watching the Frenchman cook a bit before being butchered to supply 
his larder, and if he did it just right, he could carve some fully 
cooked meat from the rotating and still very alive body.

Not bothering to dress, Hill walked over to the pit and turned on 
the gas jets below the lava stones. It would take a half-hour to 
bring the stones up to cooking temperature, plenty of time to 
prepare Yann for his final journey. Hill released the tension on 
the chains holding the stretched Yann above the floor. Yann slumped 
to the ground with a thud. Hill was on him immediately, releasing 
the wrist cuffs only to replace them just as quickly with 
handcuffs. He then released the ankle cuffs and dragged Yann over 
to the spit inserted vertically into the floor of the playroom.

Hill was particularly proud of this device he had created. It 
consisted of a square steel rod a full eight feet in length. This 
allowed a full foot of clearance at either end for a six-foot 
specimen and even a seven-foot specimen would leave plenty of space 
for the spit to be inserted into the rotating motor. However what 
set this apart from other spits were the movable restraints 
attached to the spit from both top and bottom. Once Yann was in 
place at the spit with his hands still cuffed around the spit, the 
first restraint was brought into play. It was a secondary rod 18 
inches in length, which looked much like the capital L. The 
extended portion of the subspit was set at a height from the stake 
to slide easily into the ass of Hill's victim. Hill moved the rod 
up into Yann's already well stretched and lubed ass till only about 
six inches remained visible. This second rod would provide the 
majority of the turning action on Yann's body as he rotated over 
the coals. Yann let out a whimper of pain as the cold steel 
penetrated to his vitals, but the rod was positioned to cause no 
internal damage. Yann new what Hill was going to do, yet made no 
complaints as the man continued his work. The remaining restraints 
were simply to keep the roasting body from sagging and cooking 
unevenly. These consisted of restraining clamps, which surrounded 
the various parts of the body and could be adjusted to accommodate 
bodies ranging from 120 pounds up to 350 pounds. Just imagine 
oversized handcuffs, which are secured to the spit by tightening 
screws allowing perfect placement on the body and that can encircle 
the body at various locations. The bands were applied at the 
ankles, knees and thighs from below, and the abdomen, and chest 
from above. The final restraint held Yann's head perfectly straight 
and unmovable. The beauty of these little devices is that each had 
a quick release lever allowing Hill to remove his prey from the 
spit with minimum fuss. Once Yann was completely secured, Hill 
worked the Frenchman to a final erection, and tied a piece of 
rawhide tightly around the base of his cock to maintain its 
firmness during cooking. One thing Hill didn't want to eat was 
Yann's foreskin. He pulled it out to full length, then using a 
sharp knife cut through the skin effectively circumcising Yann. To 
make certain that Yann's cock would cook quickly; Hill inserted a 
copper sound into Yann's urethra to conduct heat to the center of 
the shaft as well. After all, this is all he really wanted to 
consume tonight and in this position it would cook through quite 
quickly, perhaps in as little as twenty minutes.

The coals had reached full heat during the time it took to get Yann 
well secured on the spit. Hill attached the other end of the chain 
holding the top of the spit to the hook on the lower end, then 
pressed a button raising Yann and the spit from the floor. As the 
spit raised it tilted toward a horizontal position and Hill 
maneuvered the apparatus into position, one end resting in the V of 
an upright, the other into the notch for the rotisserie. Yann 
stared down at the glowing rocks, almost mesmerized by the play of 
heat across their surfaces. Hill stepped back and started the 
motor. Ever so slowly Yann started to turn as the spit started its 
rotation. The heat caressing his body began to build, bringing 
sweat out on the tan Frenchman's skin. As his body began to feel 
the kiss of the heat from below, Yann began to breathe heavily, 
wriggling against the restraints holding him in place. His cock 
jutting straight and hard from his body only had a respite from the 
heat when he was completely face up on the spit, otherwise at least 
some of it was always in the path of the heat rising from the pit. 
After only five minutes the heat began to be unbearable and Yann 
let Hill know in no uncertain terms of his pain. With each rotation 
the sound extending from his cock transmitted more and more heat to 
this most tender part of his body. Yann's whimpers had turned to 
full screams of agony as his body was slowly roasted. The 
Frenchman's tanned body was by now approaching lobster red as the 
fire below continued its unrelenting assault. After fifteen minutes 
of increasing agony, Hill halted the spit's rotation. Taking a fork 
he pressed the tines into Yann's still hard cock. The fork easily 
sank into the blood filled sausage indicating that at least this 
part of Yann was well done. 

Hill then reattached the chains to the spit and lifted it and Yann 
off the pit. This time Hill guided his captive to a large table 
where he lowered the spit with Yann lying on his back. This 
position gave Hill direct access to Yann's still engorged but 
cooked prick. Hill grabbed the copper sound as he removed it from 
Yann's dick with his fingers and let out a howl of pain as the hot 
metal immediately blistered the pads on his fingers and thumb. 
Cursing at the top of his lungs, Hill grabbed an ice cube to quell 
the pain in his throbbing red hand. Cradling the injured hand to 
his chest he bent down over Yann and said, "Now it is time for my 
appetizer."

Hill leaned down and encircled the cooked prick with his mouth. 
Yann could only stare in disbelief as Hill bit down severing the 
head of his dick. Hill slowly chewed the morsel, savoring the rich 
flavor of his French delicacy, then swallowing it returned to take 
another bite. Just as he bit off the next half inch of Yann's cock, 
the door to the playroom burst open. Hill turned to face two of the 
cities finest men in blue with guns drawn. Someone had finally 
tipped the police to Hill's little game and they caught him red 
handed and open-mouthed.

Surprisingly, given Hill's rather violent temper, he went meekly 
with the police. Paramedics, who arrived with the police, 
immediately went to work to save Yann. Unfortunately there was 
nothing that could be done to save his cock, it was cooked through 
and was removed. However by quickly packing his body in ice they 
were able to lower his core temperature enough to save his life. 
The burns he received were amazingly minor, amounting to no more 
than a bad sunburn. The medics credited this to the height at which 
he was suspended over the coals. Hill didn't intend to kill Yann by 
cooking, only one part had to be done. Unfortunately for Yann he 
was to return to France as a completely sexless male. His days of 
nude sunbathing were over.

I attended Hill's trial, short as it was. He had confessed to 
several murders although he adamantly asserted that all of 
his "victims" had wanted what they got. He offered no defense and 
the judge offered no mercy. He was sentenced to life in prison, as 
our fair state does not believe in the death penalty. At least I 
know who notified the police of what was going on, and I know what 
happened to Hill once he was incarcerated. But that's for later.