Date: Sat, 1 Oct 2011 09:12:52 +0100 From: Mike Strauss Subject: balls on the line contest Here's a story I wrote for kramtoad, the male ballbusting site. Thought some nifty readers might like it too. It shows my taste for sexually humiliating straight suited guys which I used in the Increasing Sales series here on nifty/authoritarian. I'm thinking of some sequels. Got any special requests? If so email me at suitedmike2@hotmail.co.uk. thanks mike It always amazes me what guys will do when they think they can show off their macho pride to others. I guess it's that competitive spirit that keeps the corporate world going. As an executive lawyer, I see this a lot. Young Alpha males prepared to put themselves on the line because they can't conceive they will be the loser. So that's how it happened. I'm a wealthy -- very wealthy -- man, and I can usually get what I want with enough dollars on offer. Sex, easily. Kinks too. Even straight married guys will be prepared to offer me a blow job or sometimes even a fuck, for lots of bucks. But there is one thing that few are willing to do. I get off watching handsome men, especially straight muscled ones, get their nuts tortured. Not many guys are willing to let that happen to them, no matter how much cash I offer them. So I've changed my tactics. Instead of just offering cash, I play to their competitive spirit. I've set up a monthly event at my private mansion outside London. Each month I invite three guys to compete in my `game show'. Special guys, guys I've met at work or at the gym, guys who are all hot, muscled, Alpha males. Guys who want money and power and like the idea of competing for it. The winner gets $10,000 cash and a guaranteed job with my company. The risk? The loser gets his balls worked over, big time. The competitors all know this. But they are so arrogant that they cannot conceive they will lose. But one does, every time. I invite all my friends to watch and to make it even more humiliating for the competitors, I record it all on cam for distribution. Last night was a classic. I'd found three victims. Pete was a blond guy, 28, an exec I'd met in the London City gym. Classic Nordic handsome face, well muscled. And a nice bulge in his shorts, though once he knew I was interested he made damn sure I never got to see anything more. I knew he was ambitious when he asked me what I did and how he could get a job in my firm. So I told him. `Prove yourself against two other guys and I'll give you the job, and the cash. Lose, and your balls are mine.' He laughed, nervously. `You serious?' `Sure', I replied. `But you're not a loser, I can tell. So you've nothing to worry about.' I thought he wasn't going to bite. But the next time I saw him, he told me he would do it. Number two was one of those Italian guys who would melt a rock. Stunning looker, with thick black hairs that poked provocatively out of the top of his unbuttoned shirt and a muscular mounded butt in his tight black pants that had me drooling. I met Mario in the local restaurant, where he was a waiter. We got chatting, and he kept on telling me about his girl friend back in Italy, clearly wanting me to know his hot bod was not available to a guy. But when I told him about my competition, he got interested. Like all macho males Mario couldn't conceive of losing. My third victim was an older guy. Ken was in his early 40s, but had lost none of his sex appeal. He kept himself fit and lean. I met him on a job assignment in the city. He was bored with his job and needed a change. I didn't think he'd be interested, but when I told him about my game his blue eyes lit up. `Sounds like fun', he said. `I'll show those youngsters what it's all about.' So there they were last night, all three of them looking handsome, arrogant -- and nervous, though they weren't prepared to admit it. I'd got quite a crowd in, around 30 people, all fellow ball busting enthusiasts. I explained the rules. They'd do a number of competitive tests, and the one who got the best overall score would win the cash prize. But along the way there would be forfeits. And the focus of these would be on their balls. There would be a lot of different types of penalties, I explained. Some would involve having their balls and cocks exposed in front of the crowd. That, in itself, was enough to make these straight studs groan at the thought of exposing their hot bodies to a room full of horny guys. Others would be more, er, painful. `So, you have the choice. You can back out now and go home a loser, or you can put your balls on the line.' I knew their type well enough. None would be prepared to whimp out now. They all fancied themselves as tough macho guys, and they certainly wouldn't want to show their fear in front of a crowd, or each other. Already they were psyching each other out. Pete was actually flexing his biceps, showing off his muscles, while Ken looked quietly superior. Mario just grinned. All of them nodded, `Come on, let's get playing', shouted Pete, bouncing around on his toes like a boxer priming for the ring. There were hoots and cheers from the crowd. The fun was about to start... `OK', I announced. `Round one.' I pointed to a dart board at the end of the room. `Easy. Three darts each. Whoever gets the highest score wins 10 points. Whoever gets the lowest... well, you know the rules, balls'll be on the line!' There were laughs in the room. Pete looked cocky as he grabbed the darts. Clearly he was a dart player and knew the score. Ken was suave and didn't show any emotion. But Marco was less pleased. `Hey, that's not fair, I've never played this stupid English pub game', he protested. `Tough', I said. `All's fair in this game. Maybe we'll be seeing how tough your Italian man eggs are!' There was a hush in the room as the three took up position. Ken went first. A 12, and 8 and a 3. Not great. He looked nervous as he handed over the darts to Mario. Mario hurled the first one, which of course bounced straight off the board. Laughs all round. `Shit', Mario yelled. The second one fell short and landed on the floor. More laughs. I looked pointedly at Mario's crotch. `Looks like we're going to be getting to work on your babymakers pretty soon', I grinned. Mario shot me an ugly look. Then he took aim with the third dart -- and hit bull's eye. There were cheers in the room. Beginners luck. Mario punched the air with joy. Now Ken looked a little worried. He knew Pete was an expert player. Pete stepped up to the line, looking confident. The first dart hit a 3. The second a 8. `So', I said, `this is it. Depending on this shot, we either get to work on you, Pete, or it's Ken here who will feeling the squeeze.' Pete took careful aim -- and missed. Unbelievable. The dart thudded into the edge of the board. He looked aghast. Not only was he to face the first penalty, but he had humiliated himself in front of the whole room. `OK.' I announced. `Nothing to look too worried about, Pete. You've already shamed yourself in front of the guys by losing a darts context. Now it's time to humiliate you a bit more.' I walked up to him. `Put your hands on your head'. He obeyed, sheepishly. Then I ran my hands down his chest and over his crotch. He flinched, not liking being goosed by a guy one bit. I felt the warmth of his crotch and gave it a quick squeeze. He instinctively flinched and made to back off. But I held him firm. Then I moved to one side so that everyone could see. And I swiftly unzipped his jeans, dug in and tugged out his cock and balls exposing them to the whole room. They were big, and I was amused to see he had shaved them. Pete glared at me. Then I started to slap his balls, slowly and quite gently but gradually building up the pace. He tried to back off but I put one hand firmly behind him slapping his jeans covered butt as I did so. Everyone was cheering and laughing. Finally I saw what I wanted. Tears appeared in Pete's eyes. I stopped, and he dropped his arms, clutching his exposed balls. He then tried to tuck them back of sight. `No, Pete' I said. Your cock and balls stay exposed now. A reminder of your punishment. Pete glared at me. The thought of being exposed like that in front of a room full of gay guys, many of whom were letching at the sight of him, did not appeal to a straight stud like him. But he had no choice. `OK', I announced. `Round two. Some competitive arm wrestling. Loser will not only have his arm smashed on to the table, but will have my arm smashing into his spread crotch.'. All three grimaced as I made them roll up their shirt sleeves. I gave Pete a rest while he nursed his aching balls, and Ken and Mario faced up to each other over the table, gripping their hands. On my shout, they began to struggle, muscles bulging. Mario was the younger, but Ken was the stronger. After about a minute, Mario could struggle no longer and Ken forced his hand down to the table. `OK', I said. `Your turn for some punishment, Mario.' I brought his chair out to the front, and forced him to sit down. Deftly I strapped ropes around his ankles and tied them to the chair legs, spreading his massive thighs wide apart and exposing a nicely firm and bulging crotch. Mario was wearing his work trousers -- black and tight. I teased him, running my hands up and down his thighs. He tried to brush me off, so I took his hands and cuffed them behind the chair. He sat there, lusciously exposed to me. Slowly I made a fist, and licked my lips. Mario suddenly realised what was going to happen to him and yelled. `Fuck, no, no!'. But it was too late. I swung my arm back and then smashed my fist into his balls. He roared in pain, bucking and jerking, but unable to move his bound legs. The crowd yelled and clapped. After several minutes, I uncuffed Mario and he immediately clutched his nuts, groaning and moaning in pain. I ran my hands over his thighs again, while he blushed furiously at this public goosing. Then I stood up. `OK', I said, `round three.' This is the one you don't want to lose.' The three victims all looked at me anxiously, as I produced three plastic devices. I got each guy tied into a chair in the way I had with Mario, legs splayed and bound, hands cuffed behind them, crotches exposed. Pete's cock and balls were still flopping out of his flies for all to see. Then I tugged Mario's sore and tender balls out of his pants, and did the same to Ken, much to the audience's delight and their acute embarrassment. Then I held up the devices in my hands and watched their horrified expressions as I described what they were. `Devious things, these. Plastic ball crushers. They fit snugly around your nuts, like a vice.' I fitted them onto each of the guys, placing their balls snugly between the two plastic plates, connected with two clamping screws on each side so that they just touched the balls from front and back. But one more turn of the screws and they'd feel the pressure. `OK, here's the game. Each member of the audience gets to ask anyone of their choice a question. If it's unfair, I rule it out. If not, the named guy has to answer. If he gets it right, 10 points. But if he gets it wrong, the questioner will give the screws on his nut crusher one turn.' If any of the competitors can't take any more nut crushing, there is an alternative. He can choose instead to be fucked by the questioner.' The crowd howled with delight but Ken, Mario and Pete groaned. To be fucked by a man -- and in public -- was the last thing they would do. The only alternative was to get the questions right -- or to take severe testicle torture. I had to rule a few questions out that the contestant victim clearly couldn't know -- like one jerk who asked Pete what his father's name was. But most were fair -- if tricky, especially when the guys knew their balls were facing a crushing if they got it wrong. The sweat and fear on heir faces was a treat to see. At first the questions were pretty even. Mario wasn't great on anything but soccer, and had the screws turned on his meaty stud balls five or six times, so that they were flattening out nicely under the plastic plates. He was breathing heavily, sweat stains appearing on his shirt. It was a hot sight. Pete did better, getting most of his questions right, but there were three he failed to answer, and the ball vice got tightened on him too. But Ken was doing fine. He was brighter than the others, older and smarter. He fended off questions on just about everything. Most of the guys focussed instead on Mario, letching at the sight of the young Italian stud writhing and sweating in his chair, and his balls began to severely ache from the tight nuts vice they were in. But then someone asked Ken a question about soccer teams, and he hadn't a clue. There were cheers as the questioner, a young guy stepped up and yanked the screws on Ken's ball clamp. Ken winced and grimaced. That was it. The crowd got a whiff of what might be to come. All the next questions were on soccer -- and clearly Ken, suave handsome Ken, knew fuck all about it. He got five more screw turns, and his balls were flattened out. He began to breathe heavily, and to moan with the slow dull ache that was spreading through his groin. But then I decided to ask my question. `When did Man Utd last lose the cup?'. Ken had no idea. I stepped up and made to turn the screws yet again. But Ken could stand it no longer, and screamed out, ` No!. Stop!'. I smile. `You know the consequences, Ken? A good hard fucking right here in front of everyone.' Ken nodded, tears in his handsome blue eyes This was the moment I had been waiting for. I tipped his chair back, so that his bound legs were in the air, his tightly squeezed balls on show. Then I slid out the bottom of the chair seat. Ken's firm rounded butt was exposed, clad in his smart business suit. I took out my penknife, and ripped open the seam, exposing his white briefs, These too I slit open, and his meaty hairy hole was revealed. There were whoops and roars from the crowd. Then I slid my very hard thick cock deep into him. He screamed as he was raped, feeling a man's cock inside him for the first time. But then, just as he was taking my cock to the hilt, I grabbed the screws on his nut vice -- and turned, and turned and turned. I shot my load deep into him, while his roared with agony as his nuts were severely crushed. And the winner? Pete walked off with the cash and an appointment with me for a job in the company. Mario disappeared into one of the bedrooms with three other guys, still sweating and clutching his balls, but re-appeared an hour later smiling with a fistful of twenty pound notes, while Ken was left to nurse his aching balls and violated arse. Somehow I didn't think he'd be back for more.