Big Earl's Bad Day

Big Earl the pimp has a bad run-in with one of his girls.

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WARNING!!!! Extremely Situations!!! The following is a work of 
fiction. All characters and situations included are purely 
fictional. The story is intended for mature adults. Do not read is 
story if offended by extreme sadism and adult situations. The 
actions of the characters should not be tried; for they will result 
in extreme pain and possibly permanent mutilation. Please contact 
me with your comments. Big Earl’s Bad DayShirley strode down the 
sidewalk on her way to a meeting with Big Earl. She wasn’t your 
normal pedestrian, however, and tended to attract a lot of 
attention wherever she went. Shirley looked just like a hooker, and 
that was what she was. She was a common street whore who worked for 
Big Earl. Big Earl was a very bad man. Big Earl got his name 
because he was big, talked big, dressed big, drove big cars and 
smoked big cigars. He also demanded big money from his girls. She 
wasn’t working at the moment, well, not technically, but she still 
had to make sure the everyone knew exactly what she was. Big Earl 
insisted that his girls look and act the part all day, every day. 
No matter where they were or what they did. Big Earl’s stable were 
never off duty. He liked to say that you never know where a John 
might come from so you always gotta advertise and you always gotta 
be ready. Big Earl was a tough man to work for. Not that a girl had 
the choice; if Big Earl wanted you, then Big Earl got you. Big Earl 
insisted that every one of his girls be addicted to drugs. He 
thought that it kept the girls in line, docile and needy. If they 
weren’t on drugs before they met him, then they were soon 
afterward. He was mean, tough, and not afraid of anything. He’d 
been shot, stabbed, run over, everything, but he always kept going. 
Shirley was just a little thing, barely 100 pounds. She’d been 
working for Big Earl for almost two years, a lifetime in this 
business. Walking the streets and working the Johns had made her 
body very strong, try living every waking moment in six inch heels 
and walking the streets 16 hours a day and see if you don’t get 
strong too. Unlike most of the other girls, Shirley had secretly 
kicked her drug habit a long time ago, but never let on to Big 
Earl. He would have just kidnapped her and kept her locked up and 
living on drugs until she was addicted again. Shirley took the 
drugs that Big Earl handed her and re-sold them to her clients, 
making herself some getaway money. It was dangerous, though. If Big 
Earl found out he would kill her for sure, no question. Big Earl 
would consider it lying and stealing, both major offenses. Plus she 
was now a drug dealer, which the police would blame him for if they 
ever caught her. Which was why Shirley was dreading this special 
meeting Big Earl had called. He said that he wanted to see her, 
which was not a good sign. He said that they were due for a chat, 
which meant she was gonna get beaten, at least. Also, he called the 
meeting for Thursday afternoon, the start of the busiest part of 
the week for a hooker, which might mean she wasn’t expected to come 
out alive. The meeting started badly. “You been holding out on me,” 
Big Earl said flatly, darkly. Shirley recoiled. It could be a trap. 
Maybe he didn’t know anything. “No, sir, Big Earl,” she said, 
scared, and not having to pretend. He smashed his fist into her 
stomach and snatched her by the hair. He dragged the still gasping 
girl into his special workroom and flung her against the wall so 
that she bounced off it and almost lost her balance. The workroom 
was the scene of all his beatings, or worse, because it had lots of 
places to tie a person and was known to be sound-proof. Once he 
closed the door, the rest of the world ceased to exist. It was 
while he was closing the door that Shirley regained her breath and 
started pleading. Big Earl was having none of it. He grabbed her 
arm and twisted viciously, like to rip it off. Instead Big Earl 
looked closely at her arm, looking in vain for needle tracks, the 
sign of a junkie. Hers were long since healed and gone. “I, I, I 
been injecting in another place, Earl,” she cried, “the Johns get 
nervous with a junkie. I had to find a place to hide the marks.” 
“Where, bitch? Show me,” he growled, not believing her. Thinking 
fast, she said, “In my nose! Way up in my nose! I stick the needle 
up my nose and oh, baby, what a rush!” She was babbling for her 
life now and though no one would buy that story for long, Big Earl 
came closer to her and tilted her head bad to check it out. 
“Where?” he said looking right up her nose, “I don’t see nothing.” 
“Look closer, honey,” she said, drawing him in, and lightly putting 
her hands on his shoulders. He did come closer, and slightly 
squatted down to get a better look up her nose. Legs wide open. 
Like a coiled snake, she struck. With force borne of fear, Shirley 
drove her knee into his balls. Her legs possessed all the strength 
that two years of walking the mean streets could deliver. She used 
her arms as leverage and drove all the strength from her whole body 
into that kick. It was devastating to Big Earl. He grunted from the 
shock and pain and would have crumpled to the ground, but she was 
in the way and prevented him from falling. Instead he leaned onto 
her shoulder and she hugged him tightly to make sure he didn’t get 
away. She delivered more and more knee kicks to his balls, pounding 
away at his nuts for all she was worth. He danced at the force of 
each blow like a puppet on a jerky string. She slowly began backing 
him up to the wall and finally pushing him off, up against the 
wall, she backed up and swung her pointy-toed, high heeled shoe 
right into his balls. This time he did crumple to the floor, 
completely unconscious. Then she moved fast. She handcuffed Earl’s 
meaty arms together and stretched them over his head to a steel 
ring imbedded in the floor. A padlock secured them there. Then she 
stretched first one leg and then the other tightly to more steel 
rings and, using heavy chain and more padlocks, she opened up his 
legs like a wishbone. She found a razor that he used to cut cocaine 
lines and cut off all his clothes below his waist. Then she went to 
his bathroom and returned with straight razor. It was while shaving 
off the pubic hair, dry, from on and around his balls that Big Earl 
awoke. First he moaned from the unbelievable pain in his nuts. Then 
he gasped as he realized that he was firmly tied down and helpless. 
Then he darkened at the sight of Shirley wielding a razor over his 
prized manhood. “Hello, Earl,” Shirley said irreverently, “Just 
cleaning you up some. I’m just about done. Don’t move now or we may 
have to change your name to ‘Stubby.’” She continued with the 
shaving. When she was finished she went off to wash her hands and 
came back wiping them with a towel. “Shirley,” Earl said evenly, 
“you’ve had your fun. Now let me go.” Still wearing her heals 
Shirley walked between the man’s spread legs and put the sole of 
her shoe against one of his large balls and began applying 
pressure. “I don’t think so, honey,” Shirley smiled evily, “my fun 
is just beginning.” She leaned harder and soon Earl started gagging 
and seemed about to pass out when Shirley relented. “Shirley,” Earl 
gasped when he recovered, “why are you doing this?” Trying the 
Pimp’s Ploy of declaring love for his slaves, he said in his most 
charming voice, “Shirley, baby. You know I love you. You’re my 
number one girl. I, I never would have hurt you. You know me baby. 
I get carried away. But, but not with you! You’re my favorite! 
You’re my sweety! You and me, baby, we were made for each other! I 
love you!” “Ohhh, honey,” Shirley said sympathetically, but once 
again placing the sole of shoe on top of his balls, “I love you 
too, sweetums. Me love you long time!” and with that she put most 
of her weight down on his balls and simultaneously ground her foot 
like she was putting out a cigarette. Big Earl screamed and cried 
and pleaded but Shirley continued until she realized that he had 
slipped into unconsciousness. Big Earl awoke to find himself still 
tied down and in lots of pain. Shirley was in a chair right between 
his legs, leaning back and lighting up one of his big cigars. She 
looked happy. “Welcome back to the living,” she smiled as she blew 
a long stream of rich smoke to the ceiling. “I’ve been busy while 
you were away,” she said, “can you tell what I’ve been doing? 
Anything feel different?” She puffed again and smiled. He could 
tell that his balls still hurt, but something WAS different. It 
felt different. He felt something. It was…it was…air. He lifted his 
head and looked down to his crotch. There, neatly lying on a towel, 
several inches below his scrotum, were his testicles! They were 
still connected to his body by their cords and ducts and nerves. 
They just were no longer in their sack! They were just lying there, 
neatly laid out like two giant lima beans on a platter. Shirley let 
out a loud laugh, punctuated with rich Cuban smoke, as she saw the 
realization flood onto his face. “Oh, Earl!” she said, “if you 
could see the look on your face, you’d laugh! You really would!” 
She continued laughing and smiling; very pleased with herself. 
“Shirley, oh Shirley, what have you done?” he wailed. “Done?” she 
said innocently, “why nothing really…compared to what I’m going to 
do.” She leaning forward, arms on her thighs, big cigar held 
between two dainty fingers. Her eyes held a steady gaze. “Let me 
lay it out for you, Earl,” she continued. “I want the combination 
to your safe and the names and account numbers for your Swiss 
banks. Everything. I want it all.” “You’re crazy,” he whispered, 
totally in fear of losing his manhood, if not his life, but not yet 
willing to surrender all his money. “Eh, eh, eh,” said Shirley, 
lightly dragging a pointed fingernail across one of the vulnerable 
testicles. He never felt such pain! Like the dentist’s drill 
hitting a raw nerve, only a hundred times worse. If it had hurt 
half as much, he could have thrown up. As it was he was beyond 
that. He was sure he was losing his mind. “Earl,” she said, 
“remember that I can put these bad boys back into you any time I 
want. You’ll be good as new. Remember that I worked the Johns at 
the library? Well I took some time to look up male anatomy. I 
thought it might help me service the guys faster. I found out that 
your plumbing is really pretty primitive. I took your melons out of 
the sack and I can put them back in. But only if you cooperate.” 
Flicking some hot ash onto his exposed balls, delivering a searing 
pain, she continued, “You ARE going to cooperate. Right honey?” 
Another long puff and more, hotter, ashes on his balls. He thought 
he would go insane from the pain. He was weeping openly now. 
“Earl,” Shirley said matter-of-factly, “I’ve got your balls lying 
on a towel at my feet and I’m not going away. I can deliver 
increasing amount of pain to you for as long as it takes. I’ve got 
the means and I’ve got the will. Do you need me to prove that to 
you more than I already have?” She blew on the tip of the cigar 
until the end glowed brightly. She raised her eyes from the tip and 
looked deeply into his; the threat was obvious. He imagined that 
hot cigar tip on his nuts and he caved. He told her everything she 
wanted to know. Bank accounts, passwords, PINs, combinations, 
everything. After Shirley confirmed it all, she became a lot nicer 
to Earl. She retrieved the keys and began to undue the locks. Earl 
started to relax. He was convinced he would now live through his 
ordeal. It would take months to recover and Shirley was certain to 
rob him blind, but he would live and would retain his manhood. 
Shirley had released Earl from his bonds when he said, “Eh, 
Shirley, could you take care of my nuts now?” “Why, certainly,” she 
said, and quick as a cat she snatched them up in her hand and gave 
a big yank, ripping them from his body like she was pulling off a 
couple of price tags from new clothes. Then, right in front of his 
shocked eyes, she dangled them out to him by their cords and said, 
“Here ya go!” Instinctively he held his hand out and she dropped 
his nuts right into it. Then he fainted. Epilogue Big Earl did wake 
up. Several months later and much changed. Shirley had indeed 
emptied all his accounts and found all his money. She gave lots of 
it to the other girls in his stable, making them all millionaires, 
rich beyond their wildest dreams. She also got them all into drug 
rehab programs and made sure they all got and stayed clean. Earl 
was sent to a clinic in Switzerland. His money, well her money now, 
bought him a new sexual identity and the body to match it. True, he 
was still big, but now he was well proportioned, big tits and big 
ass, and you know that some guys like their women that way. Surgery 
redid his face and, with a couple of ribs removed, gave him a teeny 
waist. A vagina was fashioned from the remnants of his former 
manhood. It remains very raw and hurts him like crazy whenever 
someone fucks him, but his Johns don’t seem to mind. The changes to 
his body were only part of the treatment. Several weeks at a mental 
clinic, run by a perverted ex-Russian psychiatrist, gave him a new, 
and very submissive, feminine attitude. He now earns money for 
Shirley in the dungeons of Amsterdam, where he gets beaten for hire 
and screwed several times each day. Shirley now lives in Amsterdam 
and runs a home for prostitutes who want out of the business. She 
sports an unusual pair of gold-plated earrings, sort of shaped like 
giant lima beans. When asked where she got them, she smiles and 
says, “I took them off of some guy I once knew.”