Sunday, May 17, 2015

From stud to dud: JUNK-A-BRO-LOOZA! (part 2)

Very special thanks to Chadfan! We co-wrote this story and had a great time exchanging emails and tossing ideas back and forth. This story is a bit different from the rest of my work, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

Previously on “From stud to dud”:
JUNK-A-BRO-LOOZA! (part 1)

Title credit: I read the phrase "From stud to dud" first in pooiu's 2010 f/m story Busting League: Day 1. Check out his excellent story blog Busted Spuds.

Warning: Can contain traces of cum.

“Let’s get ready for round one!” The Bush yelled as thumping, loud music started playing.

A couple of stage hands rolled three identical contraptions onto the stage and placed them next to each other. Each of them consisted of a seat that was suspended about 7 ft. above the ground by a wooden construction, a bit like a lifeguard’s chair. The seating surface sported a conspicuous hole in the middle, and there were leg rests on either side.

Rocco, Shawn and Bucky stripped off their few remaining bits of clothing, egged on by The Bush and the cheering crowd. Rocco and Shawn did the helicopter, showing off their long, fat cocks, much to the joy of the audience, while Bucky scratched his pubes, looking a bit lost.

“Round One!” The Bush shouted. “Ballsack Speedbag - brought to you by our sponsor NutJuice.”

Hot guys wearing only “NutJuice” t-shirts walked out into the audience, dangerously lobbing cans of the malt-liquor energy drink into the excited crowd. A few more paraded across the stage, handing cans to the host and contestants.

The Bush cracked a can open. “NutJuice! 25% alcohol, 1% artificial coconut flavor, 110% fun!” He emptied the can down his throat. For a split-second it looked like he was going to puke, but he managed to put on a good face. Clearing his throat, he shouted, “Get up there, guys  - it’s Ballsack Speedbag!”

The crowd roared with laughter.

Rocco and Shawn chuckled, and quickly emptied their cans before climbing up and sitting down.

“Oh, come on.” Bucky mumbled, and downed his NutJuice in one gulp. He shuddered in disgust. It tasted like something you’d spray on a dead body to cover the smell. He turned to the assistant and muttered, “Can I have another?”

Two cans of NutJuice later, Bucky was sitting in his chair, a cheerful smile on his face.

The stagehands fastened the three contestants’ legs to the leg rests, causing them to sit with their legs spread wide apart.

“Hey, Hamster Dick!” The Bush grinned. “How’s the view from up there?”

“Fantastic, Mr. Bush!” Rocco yelled.

“Awesome“, The Bush chuckled. “The view from down here is pretty fantastic, too…” He pointed at the three big, bulging nutsacks that dangled through the holes. Three furry nutsacks that were hanging very low due to the weight of the big, fat balls inside.

Rocco’s huge, round babymakers were the biggest of the bunch, with Shawn’s fat nuggets taking a close second place. Even though Bucky’s balls couldn’t compete with his friends’, he still had a massive pair of juicy plums that jiggled as he shifted on his seat.

The audience roared with cheers and laughter.

The Bush grinned and turned to the audience. “Okay, now we need three volunteers. Are there any boxers in the audience?”

It didn’t take long until three heavily muscled jocks stood on stage. Twitchy, drunk frat boys in their mid-twenties, all sporting the same college name on their matching baseball caps.

“Oh, shit, dude“, Bucky mumbled, peering down as the three guys were given boxing gloves to lace up.

Shawn and Rocco had downed several more cans of NutJuice while they were strapped into their seats, and they seemed far less concerned about the fate of their testicles than Bucky.

The three boxers took up positions in front of their respective ballsacks. They were smiling, slapping each other on the back, and grabbing their junk.

“Dude, fuckin’ nuts, bro!” One of them laughed dumbly, tugging at his semi-hard cock.

“Hey Rocco man!” Another one of the boxers shouted. “You got some big hairy balls dude! Like...” He stared at the big set of nuts swinging under Rocco’s seat, and cracked a smile. “Like... big moose nuts!”

“I’ve never seen moose nuts!” Rocco yelled back.

“They’re big!” The boxer chuckled and flashed a mean smile. “Sorry I’m gonna ruin ‘em bro!”

“Oh. Well... Thanks!” Rocco shouted back.

The boxer cupped his nuts and laughed.

“Look at the screens!” Shawn yelled and pointed to the side where the three hairy ballsacks were shown in close-up. “The big one in the middle, that’s my sack! Fuck, it looks awesome!”

The image on the screen changed and zoomed in on Rocco’s huge nuts.

“Whoohooo!” Rocco cheered.

“Okay, Speedbaggers!” The Bush grinned, eying the three dangling sacks before him. “I want you to pummel these nutsacks as hard as you can, alright? Imagine that these three dudes are making moves on your date! Would you let these fuckers go home with their nuts?”

“Fuck no!” one of the boxers snorted.

“Do you have the NUTS to ruin these NUTS?!?” The Bush roared, pointing at Shawn’s sack.

“YEAH!” The three boxers roared back.

The Bush clapped his hands. “Nuts are on the line gentlemen! Make those punches count! The first contestant to pop a nut, or give up, gets eliminated - leaving two dudes in competition for the BIG MONEY!”

The audience broke into loud cheers as the sound of tumbling coins once more rumbled through the club.

Shawn turned to Bucky and grinned. “Dude, don’t worry. If one of us looses a nut, your brother can just stitch in another.”

Bucky blinked. “What?”

Shawn’s smile faltered. “Your brother dude. Like he did with Quint’s dick. He can get us new nuts, right?”

Bucky slowly shook his head. “...I don’t think you can replace nuts, dude.”

Shawn looked back at the screen at his big nuts dangling. “Oh... crap.”

The Bush raised his voice. “Okay, here we go! Ballsack Speedbag - ready, steady, SMASH ‘EM!”

Immediately, the three muscular boxers started pummeling their respective nutsacks. Bucky, Rocco and Shawn let out throaty shouts that were quickly drowned out by the cheers and the laughter from the audience.

The Bush was cringing in mock-sympathy, and cupping his crotch as the three hapless contestants’ hairy nuts were beaten without mercy. “Wow, look at those punches - you three jocks must be real pissed off!” He peered at the boxers’ crotches, and loudly whispered into his mic. “Is it because you frat boys got some tiny nuts?”

The audience broke into riotous laughter, causing the frat boys to double their efforts. They punched Bucky, Rocco, and Shawn’s captive nuts, again and again. Harder and harder. Faster and faster!

Soon, the first signs of swellings and bruises were visible.

Bucky was grinding his teeth, his eyes clenched tightly shut. The cheers and laughter of the audience echoed in his ears, and he didn’t want to see his precious jewels get turned to mush on the big screens.

He heard the dull smacks of the boxer’s fists slamming into his soft, tender testicles. He heard the horrible thud they made when they slammed against the undersurface of the chair. And he heard Rocco’s and Shawn’s anguished grunts, screams, and groans as they suffered just like he did.

He opened his eyes, and saw that both Shawn and Rocco - even in the midst of their possible neutering - were sporting rock hard erections. He looked down and saw that he too had a nearly vertical hard on. His cockhead was rubbing against his furry six-pack. It was as if their dicks were shouting, “Dudes give up! We need your nuts!”

Rocco and Shawn were always putting their nuts on the line. They thought they were indestructible... but Bucky knew. He knew that once nuts started to fail, the failure was catastrophic. A dude was left with nut soup in his sack. Nothing to save.

Bucky loved his nuts.

He thought of all the fun he had with his nuts. All the loads he’d shot into, on, and all over the countless partners he had. He loved his nuts.


With a sick, wet sound, Bucky felt something in his right nut give.


Another punch, and he felt his left nut go all tingly.


Bucky’s eyes lost focus as he let out an anguished scream.


The muscular jock’s fist slammed into Bucky’s nuts like a freight train, smashing his nuts dangerously flat. Nut soup. His nuts! What was he doing?!?! Bucky loved his nuts!

“DUDES! DUDES! DUDES!” Bucky screamed from the top of his lungs. “STOP! STOP IT! I GIVE UP!”

It took a little while for The Bush to stop the nut pummeling, but finally the boxers were convinced to back off. They were panting, wet with sweat, and laughing at the damage they’d brought.

“Apparently, they like their new training regime“, The Bush shouted, before looking up at the contestants. “So who wants to quit?”

“Me!” Bucky groaned, his handsome face was white as a sheet.

“Stoner?” The Bush said. “Oh, man, I was rooting for you! I really was!”

“Sorry, dude, I’m out“, Bucky moaned. “I need a fuckin’ joint.”

Rocco and Shawn leaned forward in their seats, to get a better look at Bucky. They didn’t look so hot themselves.

“Good luck, guys“, Bucky groaned as the stage hands freed his legs and allowed him to climb down. He stood bowlegged in the middle of the stage. His erection had wilted, leaving his dick shrunken, as if Bucky had spent hours swimming in cold water.

The audience booed.

“Guys, guys, guys“, The Bush said. “It’s Stoner’s decision. Apparently, he wants to keep his balls“, He motioned to Bucky’s shriveled dick, “for whatever reason.”

The crowd roared with laughter.

Bucky smiled weakly. He cupped his balls - they seemed okay, but his sack was gonna be some ugly colors for the next few days.

“I’m really sorry, Stoner”, The Bush said cheerfully. “But you are---“ He brought his leg back and sent his boot between Bucky’s thighs, ramming it into his aching, swollen nuts with a wet splat. “OUT!”

The loudspeakers blared Beck’s “Loser” into the room as the three frat boys helped Bucky limp off stage, and into the wildly cheering audience.

Rocco turned to Shawn, a worried look on his face. “Bucky’s nuts are okay, right?”

Shawn ran a hand over his shaved head, and smiled weakly. “Yeah... of course they are.”

Rocco looked down from his seat at The Bush. “Mr. Bush, can we come down now?”

The Bush waived cheerfully up at Rocco and Shawn. “Sorry, Hamster Dick! You fellas just stay put during this little intermission.” He pointed to their stiff erections. “Looks like you’re enjoying yourselves anyway.” He turned to the audience. “You know, I used to have a cock just like that...” He raised his kilt, and looked down at his stubby dick appraisingly. “Yeah... I did.” He dropped his kilt. “But when my ex-wife moved out, she took all the dildos with her!”

The audience broke into laughter as The Bush walked off stage.

“Back in a couple of minutes folks!” he shouted.


Rocco glanced at his bobbing hard on. He and Shawn were still stuck in the lifeguard chairs, and The Bush hadn’t returned yet. Thankfully, the stagehands had loaded them up with more cans of Nutjuice, which Rocco and Shawn knocked back as they waited. Rocco was feeling pretty buzzed, enough so that his sore nuts barely bothered him at all. On the big TV screens they were an ugly, bruised color. Shawn’s were, too. Rocco blinked a couple times, and turned to his buddy. “One of us is gonna win, right?”

Shawn perked up at the thought of winning, and smiled. “Sure, Hamster Dick. One of us. And then we’ll be rolling in cash.” Shawn’s dick twitched at the thought. “We’ll get strippers. And fuckin’ fast cars---”

“And pay off our doctor bills.” Rocco added.

Shawn shrugged. “That too.” He tilted his head. “Rocco, what are you gonna spend your money on?”

Rocco chuckled. “I dunno...” He looked down at his erection and frowned. “Well...” He looked back to Shawn. “Do you think those dick enlargement surgeries really work?”

“Oh my god!” Shawn broke into a fit of laughter.

Rocco furrowed his brow. “No, I’m serious.”

Shawn tried to control his breathing. “But... Rocco it’s... it’s so... big already.”

Rocco grinned. “Yeah - but imagine if it was even bigger.”

The PA crackled to life.

“Alright, let’s move on to Round TWO!” The Bush roared, walking back on stage. “Ding-Dong Swingers! Brought to you by our sponsor, NutJuice!” He cracked open another can with thinly veiled disgust. “NutJuice - 25% alcohol, 1% artificial coconut flavor, 110% fun!” The Bush said quickly before emptying the contents of the can. “Ew. Alright, Ding-Dong Swingers. We need two volunteers for this one.”

Stage hands cleared Bucky’s chair from the stage and locked two sets of handcuffs to the necks of Rocco’s and Shawn’s sacks. Each guy’s sack had two pairs clamped tightly around them, and each pair had one cuff left dangling open.

“Who wants to hang from these big, hairy, NUTS!?!” The Bush yelled. “The heavier you are the better!”

Shawn turned to Rocco, a relieved look on his face. “Okay, this won’t be so bad. We can do this.”

“Any takers?” the Bush called out.

“Bro! I’ll do it!” A voice called out from the audience. “I want that redhead’s nuts!”

Shawn’s smile fell.

A buff brown haired guy, maybe in his late twenties, climbed up on the stage. He was wearing shorts, with no underwear, and had a good week’s worth of stubble on his face. He looked like he hadn’t had a decent night’s rest in months.

Shawn cocked his head. “Do I know you?”

The man jabbed a finger at Shawn. “In the park! You broke my fucking nuts with your dickless friend here!”

Rocco raise a hand. “I got it back though“, he beamed, and pointed to his hard on.

Shawn shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Oh... the park... right.” Suddenly he wished he wasn’t on stage, strapped to a chair, with a massive and very exposed erection.

The Bush stepped forward. “Wow!” He forced a laugh. “Okay, I have no idea what any of you are talking about... But it sounds pretty personal.” He pointed the mic at the angry man. “What’s you’re name?”

“Diesel“, the man fumed. “That redhead kicked my balls so hard - they haven’t stopped hurting for three fucking months!”

The audience laughed.

Diesel didn’t seem to notice the laughter. He just continued to jab his finger at Shawn. “They hurt so bad I can’t work. Can’t sleep. Can’t have sex. Can’t even fucking jerk this off - for three fucking months!” He undid his fly, and pulled out an oddly blunt dick. “And because of you fuckers I only have half a dick! One of your insane friends shot it off - in this freaking club!”

“Okay!” The Bush laughed nervously, taking the mic away. “We have our first volunteer! Do we have another... anyone?”

There was a murmur in the crowd as another figure climbed up on stage. It was Quint.

“I’ll kick his nuts.” Quint said flatly, and pointed to Shawn.

“The redhead?” The Bush pointed at Shawn, a bit exasperated. “We got someone for him. How about Rocco?”

Quint folded his arms, and stared at Shawn’s erect cock. “Nope. I wanna kick Shawn’s nuts. Hard.”

Shawn gulped.

The Bush chuckled. “Well, what we’re doing right now is gonna be a bit more nuanced than just kicking these guys in the nuts.”

Quint frowned. “Huh?”

Diesel grumbled impatiently. “Bro, we aren’t kicking them in the nuts. Fuck off.”

Quint scratched his chest. “Oh... okay. I got confused I guess. I’m out then.” Quint turned to climb off stage.

Shawn sighed in relief.

“Hey cowboy!” The Bush shouted. “Hold on. We’re still gonna totally ruin these nuts!”

Quint eyed The Bush quizzically. “Yeah?”

The Bush nodded, smiling. “Oh yes. Very much”

Quint hiked his pants up. “Okay, I’m back in then.”

Shawn groaned as Quint walked toward the redhead’s chair, whistling.

Diesel stepped in front of Quint, the jock’s half-cock still hanging out of his shorts. “Bro! That asshole ginger owes me!” Diesel gave Quint a shove. “So back off!”

Quint scowled. What would Troy do in this situation? He thought about Troy. Still stuck in prison. Poor Troy lost his dick too... and his nuts. Those were gone forever. Up with the angels. Troy’s junk must be on a little cloud, with a little harp, waiting patiently for the rest of Troy to arrive...

Diesel shoved Quint again. “Bro - are you listening to me?”

The Bush rubbed his temples. “GUYS!”

Diesel and Quint turned to the bearded host, startled.

The Bush tilted his mic toward Quint. “Okay, Cowboy, what’s your name?”

Quint leaned forward. “Quint.” He said simply.

The Bush rolled his shoulders in frustration. “Okay, Quint... I gotta ask, are you on anything?”

Quint blinked, and leaned into the mic again. “Probation.”

“Of course you are.” The Bush rolled his eyes, and gestured to Rocco. “SO... Quint and Diesel, one of you has to forget Shawn, and work Rocco over. He’s got nuts to lose too! Am I right people?” He raised his arms, soliciting a cheer from the crowd. “Right! Let’s settle this... the easy way. Whoever has the biggest, most thigh slapping dick---”

“He wins.” Quint sighed, and motioned to Diesel.

“Huh?” The Bush stammered. “Quint, he’s got half a dick.”

“He wins.” Quint repeated.

“Okay...Well then.” The Bush pointed to Shawn. “Diesel, you get Shawn. And Quint, that means you get Rocco.” The Bush leaned in close to Quint and Diesel. “Now, for the guy who makes one of our contestants yell ‘Uncle,’ there’s a special prize at the end of this round---” The Bush turned to the audience, and yelled into the mic. “Something to get YOUR, DICK, HARD!”

As the audience broke into wild shouts, Quint looked up at Shawn. Their eyes met.

Shawn gulped. He opened his mouth to say something, but a strangled scream came out when The Bush yanked down hard on the handcuffs clamped to his nutsack.

“Let me show you the ropes“, The Bush grinned at Quint and Diesel. “We handcuff each of you to one of these guys, so your wrists are cuffed to their sacks. You can do whatever you want. Pull as hard as you can, and make them really feel it. Their balls are so swollen there’s no chance these cuffs will slip off and you hurt yourselves.”


In the audience, Bucky watched the show, cupping his balls and grimacing in pain.

“Hey, Stoner“, came a familiar voice from behind.

Bucky turned around to see Trip who was smiling at him. “Hey, Trip“, Bucky groaned.

The blond biker licked his lips. “You looked pretty good up there.”

Bucky cleared his throat. “I did? Well, it didn’t feel good…”

Trip chuckled and waved a joint at Bucky. “I might have some medication.”

Bucky looked at the joint broke into a wide grin. “That’s just what I need…”

Trip’s hand slipped between Bucky’s thighs and his fingers closed around Bucky’s swollen balls. He leaned forward and whispered into his ear, “And, I can make sure everything’s in ‘working order’…”

Bucky’s dick twitched. “That sounds reasonable“, he said hoarsely, before he was pulled into the men’s room by Trip.


On the stage, Diesel and Quint were getting ready to start. Their wrists locked into the cuffs that were locked around Rocco and Shawn’s nut sacks.

“Round Two! Ding-Dong Swingers - ready, steady, set them SWINGIN’!” The Bush yelled.

Immediately, Diesel yanked down on the cuffs as hard as he could, causing Shawn to grunt in surprise.

Rocco was confused. He looked down, and saw that Quint was barely tugging. Instead, the cowboy was staring intently as Diesel.

“You should’ve picked Rocco.” Quint mumbled.

Diesel quit tugging. “Bro, you had your chance.” He chuckled. “How small is your dick any---”

Quint kicked forward suddenly, his leather cowboy boot connecting directly with Diesel’s unprotected nuts.


Diesel retched, and lost all control of his legs as his big broken nuts were smashed into his crotch. He felt them crunch, their insides crumbling ,squashed painfully flat and flatter. Finally they gave up. Like two wet snowballs thrown against a brick wall, Diesel’s big fat nuts blew apart inside his hairy sack.

“OH FUCK!” Diesel bellowed, as three months of pent up cum erupted in a torrent from his dick, spattering wetly on the stage. Thick globs of slippery cum, chunky with bits of his big breeder balls, pooled on the floor beneath him, making it even harder for Diesel to stand.

“Holy Fuck!” The Bush yelled, and took a step back from the spray of jizz.

Shawn let out an anguished roar as Diesel lost his footing, slipping on his own cum, and the dumb jock’s full weight suddenly yanked the redhead’s nuts down as far as they’d go.

Quint had a determined expression on his face, looking up at Shawn’s stretched balls. They were wedged at the bottom of his sack. He could see them throbbing through the stretched, thin, shiny skin. An idea crossed his mind, and his face lit up. He didn’t have ideas very often. And most of them were bad. But this one - this one could work!

A murmur went through the audience. What was the cowboy doing?

Rocco looked over to Shawn. Every muscle on the redhead’s body was tense - but he was still sporting a nearly vertical erection, just like Rocco. Shawn was screaming like his nuts---

Quint raised his knees to his chest, and swung from Rocco’s sack.

Rocco’s eyes crossed as he felt the full weight of Quint’s body pull his big hairy balls to their breaking point. He felt his massive dick give a few twitches, precum leaking in little dribbles. Rocco’s dick was so hard that his big mushroom head had turned a deep purple. Sort of the same color as his nuts on the big screen.

Quint swung forward. His muscles were straining against his denim shirt as he let out grunts of effort and concentration.

The audience was clapping and cheering wildly while Rocco and Shawn were screaming from the top of their lungs. Both of their nuts stretched dangerously far from their bodies, even as their dicks stood at full mast.

Quint swung forward, and locked his knees over Diesel’s shoulders, resting his weight on the groaning jock. Diesel’s face was firmly planted in Quint’s groin, as the cowboy squirmed his hips to better rest his weight.

“Wow, nice!” The Bush laughed. “Ride that face, cowboy!”

Rocco screams subsided into a coughing fit, as he felt the pressure on his balls let up slightly.

Shawn let out an anguished wail. Now there was the weight of two men yanking on his balls.

The audience went wild.

Shawn was screaming and groaning, his nut cords stretched to their absolute limits. His balls were pressed to the bottom of his sack, as Diesel and Quint hung suspended from them.

Every muscle in Quint’s body was taut as he kept up the pressure on Shawn’s nuts.

Diesel gagged into Quint’s crotch. It smelled like stale beer and firewood. The room was spinning around him, getting darker. “Muh nufts!” he gasped into Quint’s crotch. “Yuph broph muh nufts!”

Shawn was screaming and shrieking in pain. His nuts were churning, and his dick was oozing pre-cum. He looked down at his rock hard erection in shock. Was he about to cum?

When Rocco turned to the screen, he saw that Shawn’s pool ball nuts were stretched almost a full foot from his body.

Diesel’s dick gave one last spasm, spewing a final load onto the stage - but the jock had quit struggling. He hung limp, passed out, as Quint continued to grind his crotch into Diesel’s unconscious face.

Shawn’s voice had turned hoarse and throaty, and his screams had turned into pitiful croaks. The pain had changed from a sharp sting into a nauseating throb. His balls were numb. They were stretched to their limit. This wasn’t any fucking fun anymore. There weren’t even any chicks---


Shawn’s sack lowered suddenly, causing Quint to lose his balance and fall off Diesel. He swung backwards on Rocco’s sack, his full weight suddenly returned.
Rocco opened his mouth in a comical gasp as he felt his nuts nearly rip from his body!

“FUCK!” Shawn screamed. “FUCK! STOP IT! I GIVE! I GIVE!”

“You’re out!” The Bush yelled as the audience went wild with cheers and applause.

Quint grinned, now standing again. He gave Rocco’s nuts a little tug, and looked up at the big stud. “I never won nothin’ before.”

Rocco was breathing heavily, his hair wet with sweat. He looked down at his cock, still painfully hard. “Did... did we win? Is it over?” he panted.

“Not yet, Hamster Dick!” The Bush grinned. “One more round to go!”

Stage hands unlocked Diesel’s limp body from Shawn’s sack, cum still dripping from the unconscious jock’s half dick. The crowd cheered and hooted as he was dragged off stage.

Quint looked around expectantly - but no one came to uncuff him from Rocco’s nuts.

The Bush chuckled and looked at Shawn’s sack. The skin was fiery red, and Shawn’s nuts hung oddly low. “Damn“, The Bush crowed. “You’re hanging loose guy... real loose. Are they still attached?” He gave Shawn’s nuts an experimental tug.

“YES!” Shawn screamed.

Quint looked more than a little disappointed as he hung from Rocco’s bloated nuts. “Damn“, he mumbled.

The Bush released Shawn’s nuts, letting them swing lazily. “Huh. Must’ve torn a ligament.”

The stage hands returned and freed Shawn, helping him down the seat’s ladder. He was groaning and grunting in pain, covering his aching nuts.

“Don’t worry, Long Shawn,’” The Bush grinned. “You’re almost done up here.” He raised his voice. “But before he goes…” The Bush turned to Quint, who was still cuffed to Rocco’s nuts. “Wow. Quint, man, you get an A for effort!” He slapped Quint on the back, causing Rocco to yelp up in his chair. “You busted three guys at once. That takes some big old lug nuts.” The Bush cupped Quint’s crotch for emphasis and turned back to the audience. “I think this cowboy deserves a reward - don’t you?”

The audience burst into loud cheers.

“Oh, yeah!” The Bush yelled. “Come on, Juicy Girls!”

The room filled with blaring techno music as six big-busted, scantily clad drag queens entered the stage, strutting their stuff and gathering behind Quint.

Quint had a dumbfounded expression on his face. What was all this?! All he wanted to do was bust Shawn’s nuts!

“Congratulations cowboy!” The Bush shouted into the microphone. “You just won a year’s supply of Viagra, courtesy of our sponsor NutJuice!”

The audience went wild with cheers and applause.

The Bush pumped his fist, “That cowboy cock is gonna be hard - ALL! YEAR! LONG!”

A stagehand shoved a rolled up t-shirt into Quint’s arms. Quint looked at it, frowning. The shirt read, “Juice My Nuts!” over a lewd drawing of a huge penis that was shooting gallons of jizz from two oversized, contracting testicles. Quint looked at The Bush and blinked.

“That’s gonna be you in a couple minutes!” The Bush chuckled, before drawing his leg back and treating Quint to a full-forced nut-shattering kick in the crotch.

The Bush’s boot connected with the bulge in Quint’s jeans, and flattened it.

Quint’s eyes looked like they were going to pop out of their sockets. His mouth opened to let out a guttural grunt, and he collapsed into the arms of the waiting drag-queens.

The audience clapped and cheered as the girls led Quint off the stage and through the audience. The doors to the club opened, revealing a stretch limo parked at the curb. Quint and the six scantily clad ladies disappeared inside the car. Before the limo drove off, a back window rolled down and one of the girls exposed her silicone-enhanced boobs.

“I hope I didn’t make that bull a steer!” The Bush mused with a wide grin, drawing cheers and laughter from the crowd. “Because he’s gonna need those nuts tonight!”

Shawn was standing on stage, having momentarily forgotten about the pain in his sack. His mouth was hanging open as he watched Quint leave with the six gorgeous girls. He felt cheated. That was what he wanted! What he DESERVED! Hot chicks! A fancy car! A year’s supply of Viagra!

The redhead’s fantasy was cut short by a nasty kick that smashed his traumatized testicles, and brought him back into the real world- the world of real pain. Shawn collapsed on the stage with a pitiful whimper.

“You’re OUT!” The Bush yelled.


In the men’s room, Bucky and Trip were enjoying their third consecutive joint inside one of the stalls. Bucky sat on the closed bowl, his pants around his ankles. Trip was facing Bucky, seated on his lap, and straddling the stoner’s bony knees.

Trip blinked through the pot smoke. “Dude, I got the munchies real bad.” He gave Bucky’s dick an absentminded jerk as he took another hit from his joint.

Bucky chuckled through a toothy, lopsided grin. “Yeah...” He glanced around stall before looking back up at Trip, squinting at the Biker on his lap. “Should we order a pizza, or something?”

Trip let out an affirmative grunt and tried to dismount from Bucky’s lap. He stumbled against the wall of the stall, and slid down, giggling manically.

Bucky took the joint from Trip, and leaned back, opening his thighs to give his bruised nuts a little air.

Suddenly, the door to the stall opened.

Trip and Bucky looked up to see Chad standing in the doorway.

Chad stared at Bucky’s erection, then at Trip who had a huge smile on his face.

“Hey, dude“, Bucky grinned. “What’s up?”

Chad cleared his throat. “Wow. Um, there’s… um, an intermission before the final round, so…“ His voice trailed off.

“Cool“, Bucky and Trip nodded simultaneously.

“I just wanted to---” Chad tried covering his crotch with his hands, but he couldn’t hide the huge erection that was snaking down the leg of his pants. “You know…”

“Dude“, Bucky added slowly, extending his hand and offering Chad his joint. “Wanna... order a pizza?”

Chad frowned. “What? I’m--- I--- No.” He nodded to Trip. “No thanks.” Chad turned on his heels and left the stall, walking awkwardly out of the bathroom.

Trip turned to Bucky. “Guess he wasn’t hungry.”

Trip and Bucky burst out laughing.


Outside the club, Shawn was smoking a cigarette in the dimly lit parking lot. He looked out to the street. Fuck Quint and that fucking limo... All those hot girls wasted on that dickless moron. And the Viagra! What could a dickless guy do with Viagra?! Did NutJuice also make Viagra?

Shawn let out an angry grunt and took a deep drag from the cigarette. “What a waste“, he mumbled. His nuts fucking hurt. Shawn winced, and tugged at the crotch of his jeans. He’d stuffed his bruised, swollen nuts back into his tight biker pants the best he could, but had to let his dick hang out of the fly. There just wasn’t any room. “What a fucking waste“, Shawn repeated, his face contorted in anger and pain.

“You’re right about that, buddy“, came a voice from behind Shawn.

Shawn turned around to see Jack, the scruffy blond guy that had been eliminated before the first round.

Shawn looked at him. “You’re---“

“The Jackhammer“, Jack grimaced. Like Shawn, he was nursing a pair of sore nuts.

“Right“, Shawn sighed. He offered Jack a cigarette.

They smoked in silence.

Shawn stared at the street, and absentmindedly fondled his aching nuts.

“That limo”, Jack gestured to toward the empty street.

Shawn let out a grunt.

“With the girls”, Jack added.

Shawn groaned.

“That all should’ve been yours”, Jack sighed.

Shawn turned to him. “Right? I mean - fuck!”

Jack nodded emphatically. “That cowboy - what a dick.”

Shawn chuckled a bit. A dick without a dick, that’s what Quint was.

“But Dude, you saw the MC kick him in his nuts, right?” Jack grinned.

Shawn’s eyes lit up. “Saw it? I fuckin’ heard it man. ‘SPLUNCH!’”

“I bet that ruined his night“, Jack chuckled. “I bet he can’t get it up after that kick.”

Shawn laughed. “Man, he’ll never get it up again.”

The both shared a laugh.

“Did you see the expression on his face?” Jack laughed.

“Like this!” Shawn made an exaggerated grimace, his eyes crossed, his eyebrows raised, his mouth hanging open.

Jack burst out laughing.

Shawn chuckled. “Kicking a guy in the nuts is awesome…”

“Fuck, yeah!” Jack nodded.

Shawn handed him another cigarette and lit one himself.

“There’s nothing better than ruining a guy’s night with a well-placed kick“, Jack grinned.

Shawn sneered, exhaling smoke. “The bigger the nuts the more it hurts“, he chuckled.

“Man, I can fuckin’ attest to that!” Jack laughed, cupping his nuts.

The door to the club opened and Chad came out, walking stiffly, his hands fumbling with his crotch.

“Hey Chad!” Shawn yelled.

Chad turned his head and walked over to Shawn.

“How’s it goin’ in---“ Shawn’s eyes fell on Chad’s crotch. “Is that a fucking boner?!”

Shawn and Jack burst out laughing.

Chad blushed. “It’s just a little---“

Shawn’s and Jack’s laughter drowned out Chad’s voice.

“Did you just finally admit that you got a small dick?” Shawn snorted with laughter.

Chad raised an eyebrow. “No, you douche. That’s not---”

“But it’s what you said, man!” Jack laughed.

“Look at his tiny boner!” Shawn yelled, pointing at Chad’s crotch.

Jack and Shawn were laughing their asses off.

Chad raised his voice. “You know, fuck---”


The cameraman was interrupted by a thunderous kick to his nuts that lifted him clear off the ground. Chad let out a pathetic, wheezing whimper before collapsing on the pavement, his legs kicking, his body shaking.

“Wow“, Jack chuckled. “A one kick take down. Awesome!”

Shawn grinned proudly. He took a drag from his cigarette and shrugged. “Yeah, that’s my style.” He patted Jack’s shoulder and smiled. “You know, I could teach you a couple tricks… We gotta find a pair of nuts for you to---”

Jack’s foot connected with Shawn’s fat, traumatized testicles and rammed them into the redhead’s body. Shawn’s eyes bulged, and met Jack’s for a brief moment. Jack cracked a wide smile and shrugged. Shawn sank to the ground with a grunt, and curled into a ball next to Chad.

Jack grinned. “Hey Shawn, I think I found a pair... Did I do good?” the scruffy blonde chuckled, before stomping out his cigarette and walking back into the club. “See you later, man.”
Shawn rolled onto his side. “Fuuuucking... asshole!” he groaned, clutching his battered nuts.


Inside the club, NutJuice and beer flowed freely as the intermission dragged on.

A couple of stagehands were setting the scene for the final round. Rocco stood next to The Bush, still naked, as the crew erected a new contraption.

Rocco slapped the kilted man on the back. “You’re a funny guy Mr. Bush.”

“And you’re hung like a goddamn animal.” The Bush replied with a wink.

Rocco tugged at his huge, semi-hard schlong and grinned. “Yeah, I am.” Cracking open another can of Nutjuice, the hairy stud glanced at The Bush’s kilt. “Sorry about your...” Rocco thought for a moment. “... dick. I guess.”

The Bush took a big gulp from his can of beer and wiped his mouth with his forehand before chucking the empty can across the stage. “You mean this?” He lifted his kilt, exposing his hairy crotch with his hefty nutsack and his scrawny stump of a dick.

Rocco nodded dumbly. “Yeah... your dick.”

The Bush grinned and covered his crotch again. “Want to know a ‘little’ secret?”

Rocco eyed the can of NutJuice in his hand suspiciously. “If it’s about the NutJuice secret recipe---”

The Bush laughed and cracked another bottle of beer open. “Drink enough of that shit and your balls’ll be fried from the inside out. Blue food coloring. Blue jizz. Blue balls. That’s why we’re doing these shitty contests - to drum up some support before the lawyers come and kick US in the nuts.”

Rocco looked around the club. “So all these guys drinking NutJuice---”

“Are sluggin’ down industrial grade spermicide.” He took a big gulp from his beer and leaned over to Rocco. “But that’s not the secret.”

Rocco leaned in closer. “It’s not?” He took another gulp from his can of NutJuice.

The Bush whispered, “No Rocco... it’s about my dick...” He chuckled. “I’m hung like a fucking Lipizzan stallion.”

Rocco tilted his head. “Are those... tiny horses?”

The Bush frowned. “What? Fuck no!” He grinned, and grabbed Rocco’s fat dong, tugging at it. “I’m saying I got a big cock! Almost as big as your fucking monster.”

Rocco furrowed his brow. “But…” He pointed at The Bush’s crotch.

“It’s all smoke and mirrors, man”, The Bush chuckled and slapped Rocco’s shoulder.

Rocco blinked.

“It’s a trick“, The Bush explained. “You know, I was doing this show in a night club. Awful place. A dozen of people in the audience. All of them drunk or stoned or both. I was doing my act – and I bombed. I’m telling you, man, it was like fucking Bagdad.” He shook his head, grimacing at the memory. “Suddenly, there’s this guy heckling me, making fun of me.” The Bush sighed. “Sad thing was, he was funnier than me… Called my dick small and made a couple of tiny dick jokes.”

Rocco chuckled. “They’re funny.”

The Bush laughed. “Yes, they are. So I came up with this idea.” He leaned over to Rocco and lowered his voice. “Before I go out and do my stuff, I band my big floppy cock, cut off the circulation, and it looks like this.” The Bush lifted his kilt. “See? Pathetic... and hilarious. There’s a little green rubber band under these pubes, and it’s got a choke hold on my cock. Couldn’t get hard even if I wanted to.”

Rocco looked at The Bush’s crotch and grunted. “But... what if you wanna... you know?”

“Fuck?” The Bush winked at Rocco. “Imagine the surprise when I take a groupie backstage… the band comes off, and BOOM!” He laughed. “Damn, I love the look on the girls’ faces. They’re resigned to a night of cuddlin’ - but when they see this in all its glory, we’re both in for a night of deep fucking bonking!”

Rocco chuckled. “I bet you’re doing it every night, right? Band your dick, get a girl – and BOOM!”

The Bush grimaced. “Nah, you gotta be careful, you know. Once or twice a week, and no longer than a couple of hours. Otherwise my fat fucking dong would be in big trouble…”

Rocco nodded slowly. “You’re like a magician. Making your dick disappear like that.”

The Bush grinned. “It’s just stagecraft, my friend. Like I said, smoke and mirrors.”

Rocco looked down at his crotch, where his oversized dick was fully hard and throbbing. He smiled. “I don’t think I could make my dick smaller even if I wanted to...”

The Bush shrugged. “Well, I could---”

“Ready for round three“, came an announcement over The Bush’s headset. “We need the doofus.”

“Intermission’s almost over. They need you“, The Bush said. “Let’s talk more, later. And remember, don’t tell anyone. Promise?”

Rocco grinned. “No problem, Mr. Bush.”


A mile away, on a little slope by the road, the stretch limo carrying Quint and his ladies had crashed into a tree.

One by one, the girls clambered out of the car, shooting pissed off glares from under their toppled wigs.

“There's a sign! 'Don't talk to the driver!'” one of the girls screamed.

“Now, girlfriend”, another one mumbled, adjusting her breasts. “That sign said nothing about PUNCHING the driver...”

The first girl ignored her. “Dickless asshole!” she yelled.

They watched the asshole in question make his way up to the street, wearing nothing but a “Juice My Nuts” t-shirt. No pants. No boots.

Quint felt the wind in his pubic hair as he marched back to the club. His balls were dangling below the empty space where his dick used to be, smacking against his thigh with every step.

In the distance, he heard the sound of police sirens drawing near.


“Fuck yeah, we’re back!” The Bush yelled into his microphone. “Round Three! Strike The Sack - brought to you by NutJuice!” The Bush looked at the can of NutJuice in his hand. He closed his eyes and mumbled something inaudible before emptying the can in one big gulp. He threw the can away and wiped his mouth, grimacing at the foul taste in his mouth. “NutJuice! 25% alcohol, 1% artificial coconut flavor, 110% fun!” he said in a strained, decidedly unenthusiastic voice.

The stage lights came up, revealing Rocco strapped to a chair, at the base of a large carnival game. The hairy stud was sitting at the bottom of a traditional “high striker.” The kind of game you hit with a mallet, to make a little puck fly up a tower and ring a bell.

In this version of the game, a wooden chair straddled the bullseye for the mallet. Rocco was sitting on it, with his hands tied behind his back, his chest strapped down, and his legs fastened to the chair. His nuts were fastened to the bullseye with a little leather strap, stretching them away from his body, and down to the bottom of his sack. That way, Rocco’s nuts were the bullseye. In order to ring the bell, Rocco’s nuts would have to be smashed flat by the hammer.

Rocco looked down at his crotch and chuckled. His big hairy balls had never looked bigger! He’d knocked back a few more cans of Nutjuice before getting strapped in, and had a dizzy, confident buzz that made his hard cock even harder.

“There’s one contestant left!” The Bush shouted. “And he’s in it to win it! Put your hands together for our last little cock - Hamster Dick!”

to be continued

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