Logan's luck - a testicular train trash fantasy (written by Mickey)

Oh, poor Logan! This is another wonderfully wacky fan fiction story written by our reader Mickey from Thailand. I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I did!

Previous part:
Logan's luck - a ball bash beach fantasy

Warning: Can contain traces of cum.

Featured in this story: Logan (click for pictures)

Logan was mumbling to himself as he recalled what happened.

Logan thought lady luck was finally turning his way when a WWE scout asked him if he wanted to participate in a live televised match for new talents.

He immediately said yes, took a very long train to where the wrestling company headquarters was and fidgeted in excitement all night.

Looking back, it was the excitement in being world famous that let him down as on the day of the match, he had bags underneath his eyes and felt he could collapse at any moment from sleep deprivation.

Logan Junior was another matter entirely. As the match day drew closer and closer, it only stretched and grew, turned on by visions of worldwide popularity. He was so erected that he was nearly immediately disqualified for indecency the moment he donned his singlet.

And perhaps the disqualification would have been a blessing.

Logan wrestled in a no disqualification match and his very erected member along with his lethargy made his crotch an easy target and his opponents had no qualms in taking advantages of it.

He screeched as his groin was punched, groaned when it was kicked from behind, wailed as it was squeezed, cried when it was crotched on the turnbuckle and yodeled when his plums were crotched on the ropes before they were subjected to continuous shaking.

At the end of it, he was a convulsing mess, his twitching schlong oozed a patch of precum on his bright orange singlet and he had to be carried out of the ring.

In a single night, he became the world’s perverted laughingstock rather than a superstar.

In disappointment and shame, he’d resorted to drinking all night before catching the train home. In his alcohol-induced dizziness, the softness of the seat was paradise and he’d immediately fell into peaceful sleep and missed the announcement of “Due to the technical issues with the wheels, we are afraid this train may be prone to sudden bumps and stops. We advise passengers to stay seated at all times as the train is moving.”
 
***

“Anything from the trolley!’

The loud voice woke Logan up and his hands immediately moved to lightly squeeze his crotch, hoping that it would quell the urgent and tingling sensation in his bladder from the result of too much drinking.

He thanked god that he was wearing white sweatpants instead of tight jeans.

The lady with the Trolley stopped beside Logan as she poured the steaming tea for the passenger near Logan when the sudden bump sent things flying and the blonde’s eyes widened when he saw the teapot flying in slow motion before it emptied its’ heated content onto his privates.

“My boiled babymakers!” Logan cheeks puffed as he screeched like a boiling kettle and bounced off his seat. He swore he heard some sizzling sound and saw some evaporating smoke. His hands immediately moved to squeeze and swipe his damp crotch as he made thrusting pelvic motions in hopes of getting off the heat from the boiling tea.

Laughers and giggles were heard but Logan was in so much pain that he ignored them and kept on making his motions.

When he felt the heat died down and confirmed his nuts weren’t truly boiled, he let on a relief huff and looked up to an unimpressed Trolley lady.

“Sir, you are blocking the way.” She said and Logan made apologetic gestures and squeezed himself near the seat so she would have way.

Unluckily for Logan, the train bumped some more and he found his body, though mostly his jewels crammed in between the trolley and the seat causing some tears to brim from the pressure as he sang a soprano scream.

The trolley lady seemed uncaring of Logan’s genitals plight, made a scoff and continued pushing the trolley, ignoring the curled up, boiled balls fondling wrestler on the walkway.

When Logan fought through the pain, he realized Logan Junior was standing up rather high and his bladder was still screaming for release.

Perhaps it was due to the urgency signaled from the bladder, or perhaps the sudden heat or the various abrasive hits that caused his schlong to stretch out so much it made a tent in his sweatpants

Logan slowly got up, his hands still covering his crotch.

He noticed the yellow damp patch of tea as he looked down to inspect his injured parts and couldn’t help but flushed red as hobbled to the coach with the toilet.

Normally, he would be proud to show his impressive size but after the embarrassment of the match and after escaping paparazzis asking, “Mister Kruger, was that wet patch oozing from your singlet cum?” He felt the need to lie low.

Not that he could, judging from the whispers of people on the train as he walked pass them. Yesterday’s match was a big deal and over half of the country’s population watched it.

Logan felt a raincloud floating over his head by just imagining how much of an embarrassment he currently was.

“It tea.” He said, but felt the spectating passengers ignored his words and made their own reasoning.

He hobbled a little faster when he saw the toilet ahead but he only met disappointment when he saw the red sign, signaling that in was in use.

After a minute of waiting, Logan legs were bent and his hands squeezed his crotch a little tighter. After 5 minutes of waiting, his eyes dilated as he jumped around, knocking the door begging “Please! I need to use the toilet!” And after 6 minutes, the train reached a station and mayhem began.

The doors opened and the sound of drizzling rain did not help in quenching his need to pee.

He heard the sound of umbrellas closing before the group of umbrella holding people swamped onto the train.

Logan tried to hide currently viral face by facing the wall, but his bladder made him shifty but it wasn’t a wise thing to face away from a group of people holding hard umbrellas as a smack between his legs later sent Logan reeling and gasping.

As Logan was huffing out the pain from the first impact, another anonymous umbrella smacked his nuts and he gurgled in pain as he collapsed face flat onto the floor, hands fondling his manhood.

“Is that the wrestler guy who got hit a lot in the man parts yesterday?” Logan heard a boyish voice said before a shush sound followed and the boy was pushed away into the coach as more passenger rushed in.

Logan endured. He screamed and wailed pain but he did endure as the rush of passengers seemed to ignore his body lying on the floor and they continuously stepped on him without much care.

He made a “ughh” sound whenever his arms were stepped on, an “owww” when his head was smacked and a high pitched “Yeouwchhh” each time his nuts were trampled. And though he tried very hard to endure, he couldn’t stop a drop or two of wetness escaping each time his family jewels were under attack.

Logan was twitching pitifully as the doors closed and the train resumed its journey. His once clean white T-shirt and partially tea stained sweatpants were now decorated with many feet graffiti and Logan wished the ground to swallow him up in shame but his bladder continued to screamed and the wrestler forced himself to stand up.

Logan banged the unopened toilet door with a feral screamed before he gave up, press the electric door to another coach, determined to find another toilet.

The damage he received made his hobbling slower and his urgent need for the toilet greater.

He was halfway limping across the walkway when a great bump occurred on the train and Logan felt his body being lifted off then pain became all he knew when an armrest was in the way of his journey down and with a splat, his tea soaked nuts were crotched upon it.

His pupils widened as he let of a soprano-like wail and he could feel himself dripping.

“Disgusting indecent boy!” Screamed a voice, and Logan pain blurred eyes opened to find an elderly woman as the owner of the armrest he crotched on. In her hand a hard looking umbrella and in her eyes were expressions of murder.

“It’s tea?” Logan said helplessly between gasps of pain, attempting to wriggle out of the armrest without any more pressure to his balls or bladder.

She mustn’t have heard as a moment later her umbrella slammed into Logan’s erected dick and with a technique similar to that a professional snooker, she pulled it back and strike his nuts so hard his fully body tumbled onto the floor as he squealed like a pig.

The pain was too strong and as he twitched on the floor, he felt like a dam with a leaking hole.

He could hear gasps, giggles, sounds of flashes, and could feel the growing wetness around his crotch. He imagined his tea-stained crotched must be in the process of yellowing some more.

“Mister wrestler wet his pants, mummy! Mister wrestler made a funny noises and wet his pants!” Screamed a joyful boyish sound and Logan was overwhelmed with embarrassment.

“It’s tea,” he croaked out but his excuse were mostly ignored as giggles and whispers that Logan wetted himself continued.

Fueled by a burst of shame, he crawled and crawled, ignoring the laughter and giggles probably to his snail-like wet trail and was rewarded with the green light of vacancy on the toilet at the coaches’ end.

Logan threw himself into it, eyes lit with happiness at the sight of the toilet seat, pulled his pants down a sigh in relief as he relived himself of his burden.

When his mind was of a computable state, Logan realized that his leakage was more severe than he imagined and the crotch area of his sweatpants was damply soaked and yellowed, so were some parts of his white T-shirt. In shame, he whispered to himself it wasn’t pee but tea.

Logan stripped them off and thanked the gods of wrestling that he was wearing a yellow boxer brief, albeit one which had a banana on the crotch captioned with ‘squeeze me.’ Nevertheless, he would be more embarrassed if he’d wet himself on his whitey tighties.

Determined to erase his shame, he moved to the sink and started washing and scrubbing, yet without detergent the yellowness wouldn’t disappear.

Logan did not know how long he kept on scrubbing, but it was long enough for his bladder to start acting up once more and Logan quickly moved to relieve himself.

Unfortunately, a large jump of the train sent Logan flying and in a gravity defying maneuver, his balls were somehow sandwiched between the toilet and its lid as it slammed down and Logan yodeled the sound of a pig in the slaughterhouse before he pulled his package out from the toilet’s grasp and fondled it as his rolled then jumped around the toilet, all whilst the train was continuously bumping.

In his random jumping and rolling movements, he realized too late and could only watch in despair as the continuous train bumping sent his T shirt and sweatpants into the vacuum toilet that automatically flushed.

The shock alleviated some out his pain and Logan immediate pulled up his damp yellow underwear that rested previously between his ankles to cover his somewhat welled up balls, gladly protective that it was still at least there.

“Passenger! Please come out of the toilet, we are experiencing severe bumping so please return to your seats.”

Logan didn’t want to come out. The impact his package suffered made him rock hard and his damp underwear with a banana motif only added to his feeling of naked embarrassment, but he looked at the clothes-devouring toilet, gulped and opened the door to find a train security guard.

His confused face turned to disbelief as he browsed Logan’s underwear clad form, eyes perhaps lingering a little too long on the banana on the wrestler’s bulging crotch that said ‘squeeze me.’ He then looked up at Logan’s face, his eyes filled with recognition before he came to a conclusion.

“Mr Kruger, I understand you are a pervert. However, this is a public train and stripping or other unseemly activities are not appreciated.” He said in an even voice.

“I’m not a pervert!” Logan made movement to grab the security but the baton appeared and sent him freezing as he could still remember the pain a baton could inflict on his baby makers when he attempted to go surfing.

The train shook wildly and the force involuntarily sent Logan moving and involuntarily slammed his prized nuggets onto the held out baton in the process.

Logan eyes widened from pain and his mouth let of a breathless wheeze before his body dropped to the floor. His hands nursed his balls whilst his bottom poked up and continuously twitched.

“Mr. Kruger. I know you have masochistic leanings but please keep them at home. And immediately go back to your seat!” He security said in disgust after he felt the wetness on this baton that impacted Logan’s groin and quickly walked away.

“It’s tea.” Logan croaked excuse was ignored.

***

The announcement of “We’ll be stopping at central station in around 10 minutes,” got Logan immediately standing up, albeit hunched as his hands were still gently caressing his package. His nuts were still traumatized from the recent suddenly influx of passengers and their umbrella.

As Logan turned to walk back, he noticed the eyes of many passengers on the coach. He realized then that the passengers on this coach had heard his loud scream when the toilet snapped his balls, probably saw him coming out of the toilet fully erected, crotched himself on the baton and wriggled on the floor for many minutes.

The wet snail-like trail caused by his crawling journey was still there on the walkway and Logan’s face flushed crimson as he made waving motions at his bulging bright yellow boxer briefs. Even after all the squirming, Logan Junior was still proudly standing.

“Ummm. Ummm. It’s tea. English Breakfast.” Logan said helplessly, though the scoff, giggles and disgusted cries told him they did not believe a single bit of what he said.

With his head held down, he was determined to quickly move back to his coach and began to quickly walk back. Yet before he could even pass through half the coach, a leg struck out and tripped Logan in such an impeccable way Logan realized he was falling towards one direction.

A crash was followed by Logan’s shrieking screech that filled the coach after his balls crashed onto the front of a handrest in full impact, his raging erection was no help in cushioning the pain.

He felt like fainting but he knew fainting meant more pain after waking up so he crossed his ankles together, and continued hopping towards his destination in pain.

Perhaps it was because he dirtied their walkway that the whole coach was out to get him. Legs after legs tried to trip him, and feet after feet tried to kick his nuts but Logan’s vigilance from wrestling allowed him to twist and turn and evade the attacks.

A sudden bump shook the whole coach but Logan was prepared for it and through his careful jump along with his great alertness to protect his nuggets, Logan weathered the disaster.

Unfortunately, the bump dislodged a luggage that began making its way towards him.

He looked to the left and made a loud gulp as he found a familiar elderly woman holding an umbrella in one hand and whilst her other made violent gestures towards his bulge.

He looked to the right and found a boy innocently smiling and Logan couldn’t help but smile back.

Thinking he’d found safe haven, he quickly turned to take a leap to where the boy was, but in his carelessness, he’d slipped on the wet trail he caused the moment the train made another bump and found himself air tumbling before he splatted himself onto the window like Spiderman crashing onto a wall.

Logan made a shrill whimper along with a sensual huff from the pain of his nuts being pancaked on the window whilst his body started the oozing of his juices.

His yellow boxer briefs couldn’t hide much and Logan despaired at the unshapely flattened orbs underneath.

Perhaps it was due to his sticky sweat and sticky beginnings of cum that held his twitching body onto the window but Logan desperately wished that someone would pull him off it.

Logan’s wish was granted, though not in a painless way he hoped when two small hands grabbed his yellow clad nuts and started pulling, sending Logan screaming as he crashed face first onto the floor – courtesy of his manhood still in the little hands’ hold.

“Are you alright Mr. wrestler? I only did what Mr. Banana on your underwear said. I thought it would make you feel better.” The boy said.

“D-doooant Oooool.” Logan replied between wounded gurgles.

The boy moved his head closer to the Logan’s bulge in his hand before he let out an understanding gasp.

“Ahhh, sorry Mr. Wrestler. I thought Mr banana on your manly bits said pull.” The boy said and Logan felt a dreaded foresight in what the boy was going to do.

“No, no, no, no nooooooooooooooooooooh-!” Logan squealed an octave higher as his prevention attempt failed and the inevitable happened when two small hands grasped tightly onto his orbs squeezed them like oranges.

Logan’s endurance failed him and he made thrust after thrust from the pain causing the bulge on his boxers to elongate and lengthen.

The growing dampness on boxer briefs ended the squeezing before the boy caringly asked, “Mr. Wrestler, you’re wetting yourself again. do you need to go pee pee?”

“It’s tea. Milk tea, cream’s an important ingredient.” Logan croaked and the boy started nodding with understanding.

“Are you better now Mr. Wrestler? Maybe I should squeeze-” Before the boy finished, Logan summoned a burst of strength and with a strong jump, his bulge escaped the grip, yet the abrasion from the pull turned him into a bubbling crotch-fondling mess in the middle of the walkway.

It was the sound and sight of another dislodged luggage moving towards him that sent Logan standing up, face still crimson with agony.

On the left, the elderly lady on still clutched on to her umbrella. To the right, the boy was still looking at Logan caringly, but the hands were making squeezing gestures that caused Logan to shiver in fear.

He looked at the incoming luggage, calculated the velocity it was coming and decidedly jump.

The train made a sudden bump and the luggage perfectly stopped right between Logan’s legs as his body made its way down and with a loud splat, his plums were flattened upon it.

Logan whimpered as he wiggled his crotched form on the luggage in an attempt to dislodge himself. It was unsuccessful.

He turned left to see a dangerous glint in the old lady’s eye and furiously moved his head left and right to discourage her.

She wasn’t discouraged and with a grand swing of her umbrella, she smacked the luggage, sending it rolling down the carriage like a roller coaster with Logan still crotched upon it.

The journey was filled with many bounces and with each bounce, Logan body continuously took flight then came down to crotch itself on the luggage resulting in many oooh, ahhh, eeeeeh and owww. Each landing dilated his pupils, each landing enlarged his nuts and each landing elongated his tented crotch.

The automatic door to another coach opened and for a second Logan hoped to continue sliding to his seat but it didn’t happen as a wicked hand pressed the manual button causing the door to close.

The leftover small opening ended the luggage journey.

Unfortunately for Logan, the sudden stop caused him to slide down the baggage. And whilst the opening was too small for the luggage, it was perfect enough for Logan’s bulge which slid right through the door and jammed itself as the door closed.

Logan watched the whole sequence in great terror and could only scream like a banshee when the door snapped his jewel pouch and squeezed them like a water balloon.

Logan knew things were going to be worse when the train entrance door opened and a rush of passengers, mostly reporters ran onto the train.

Immediately, they ran towards the commotions and the snapping of flashes were on his ballooned crotch. The muscular posing animated banana on his boxer was rather unreflective of his pained filled groin.

“Mr Kruger. Is this wet patch cum?” They asked before others poked or rubbed his bloated bulge, sending unwanted sensations through his body and made him his seed leak.

“Iiiiits teaaa.” He made a shrill reply, his other body parts wriggling to free his jammed erected babymakers.

They didn’t believe his respond, and they continued touching his privates and examining the dampness on his trunks.

His nightmare started when one of the reporter grabbed his balls before squeezing.

“Stoppppppppp!” He screamed between turned on huffs

“I’m only doing what your apparel suggests I do.” The reported said with a menacing grin and Logan decided that he would never wear underwear that invites people to squeeze his balls again.

“Help meeeeeeeeeeee!” he begged, tears glistening in his eyes and laughter immediately echoed from the 2 coaches he was stuck between. His hope for salvation came in the form of the boy who pulled and squeezed his babymakers.

“Mr. Wrestler. Your underwear’s all soaked up. You really need to go to pee pee.”

“It’s tea.” Logan countered in a high-pitched voice and the boy exasperatedly shook his head in disappointment before he moved to press the manual button.

Logan sighed in ecstatic relief when they opened, overjoyed that he was freed from the painful pressure.

Perhaps it was the fault of his bulge that jammed the door or perhaps it was the fault of his dripping precum that broke down the electric circuit for Logan’s short moment of respite immediately when the doors snapped back onto his man pouch.

The sudden change from great relief to great pain was too much and despite the pain from the pressure, Logan sprouted his juices with a great yodel, showering the passengers and reporters with his creamy spunk.

Realizing the malfunction of the door and sensing the beginnings of a good scoop. A reporter’s cum covered hand moved to press the manual opening button.

Again, Logan sighed in bliss when the door opened slightly, then sang an opera of agony with cream after the malfunction quickly caused to door to snap back.

Again and again the reported pressed the door’s button and again and again Logan spurted repeatedly as he made sounds of ecstatic ‘oooh’ followed by painful ‘eowwwuchh’ then another blissful ‘ahhh’ and a painful ‘ieeeeeeee.’

Sometimes passengers would demand Logan to stop screeching and squelching and make way. And in Logan’s inability to comply, they would kick or smack his man parts resulting in him shooting geysers of creamy spunk at them and cause more angery from them and more pain for him.

Between the snapping of the door and the smacking and kicking of the passengers. Logan’s eyes rolled back as he passed out despite the numerous flashes and the continued pumping of his dick.

***

When Logan eyes opened, he was lying in a warm pool of spunk.

He twitched and immediately moved his hands to gently caress his plums, still buzzing in pain though his schlong was still erected and oozing if the big tent in his damp and creamy boxer briefs was any indication.

He marveled at how his once bright yellow underwear- now a much creamier shade of yellow and wondered if perhaps cum could be used as dyestuffs.

Logan thoughts ended as a click sound signaled the opening of a toilet door and Logan remembered with great clarity that this was the toilet that refused to open.

The force of the door opening created waves in the spunk pool, sending it splashing into his already cum-covered face and mouth.

Logan wiped his covered face, though when he found the source of the wave, he couldn’t help swallowing and coughing up his own cum in shock.

In front of him stood a deeply flushed yet satisfied face Archie, the blonde wrestler who beat Logan to a cum leaking, convulsing state and beside him was his equally flushed face brunette boyfriend, Patrick.

He immediately knew what they had been doing so long in the toilet.

Logan wasn’t a bitter person but at this point he couldn’t help but be jealous of Archie who got worldwide fame, a boyfriend then sex with said boyfriend on the train whilst Logan got worldwide embarrassment, wetted himself, got hit in the balls multiple times, flooded the train with his jizz meaning more worldwide embarrassment.

“What the fuck!” Archie shouted as he pulled Patrick back from stepping into the pond of jizz.

Patrick turned his brown eyes to Logan before he let out a gasp.

“He’s the guy you wrestled yesterday Arch.” Patrick said in a small caring voice.

“Ohhhhh! You’re that guy who had cum leaking out at the end of the match.” Archie said and it Logan’s already red face turned crimson.

“I-It’s Loagan Kroooogar.”

“Whatever.” Archie said dismissively and Logan wanted to stand up and shake him till he remembers Logan – alas the pain still paralyzed his body and he could do nothing but cause some shameful spasm.

“We wouldn’t want to ruin your new shoes in all this messy orgasm.” Archie said then scooped up Patrick in a princess hold, eliciting a happy cry before he jumped onto Logan like he was a stepping stone.

Logan groaned as Archie’s left feet landed on his stomach, then he made an agonized scream that turned into a whimper as Archie’s right feet landed on his bloated nuts before Archie jumped off and out of the train with Patrick.

The pain was enough to induce another round of convulsing and thrusting and before long, Logan shot a high arch of his final load that flew over his body and onto his face, sending him spluttering as he tried to get the spunk out of his mouth, nose and eyes.

He could hear Patrick’s gasp whilst Archie laughed through the display.

“Thank you. My shoes would’ve been so dirty without you.” Patrick said, still in Archie’s arms.

“Uu-re Elcome.” Logan replied, words still rather incorrigible from the spunk in his mouth.

The two quickly walked off and Logan was left twitching in the pond of his juices as he fondled and nursed his damaged eggs.

***

Methods of Extracting ‘Milk Tea’ from Logan Kruger

Since the Worldwide broadcast of the newcomers wrestling tournament. The world eyes have been on Mr. Logan Kruger, or rather Mr. Logan’s Kruger’s bulging and damp pouch when he was left twitching on the stage after his lost to Archie Phthia.

Many questions arise in regards to what Mr. Kruger was dripping at the end of the match, and this was made more difficult Mr. Kruger’s refusal to comment.

Unfortunately, we did not have to wait long, for the day after the tournament, Mr. Kruger found sporting a bright yellow pair of boxer briefs with a playful banana motif as his crotch was squeezed by the electronic doors.

Despite his loud screams and pain-filled expressions, he must be enjoying it if the thrusts and spurting of ‘milk tea’ (as claimed by Mr. Kruger) *wink wink* by was any indication.

Mrs. Willoughby, a lady of 69 complains to us the indecency of young

Mr. Kruger and shared with us pictures of him in great enjoyment as he was crotched and bounced around on a rolling suitcase.

Jean, a boy of 6 asks ask if Mr. Kruger was okay. ‘Mr Wrestler really needs the toilet. He keeps saying it’s milk tea but I know it’s wee wee. I squeezed Mr Banana on his underwear and my hands got so wet and mummy made me wipe it so many times with germ wipes.’ Says Jean. Oh, the poor innocent boy.

The great flooding of Mr. Kruger’s milk tea has resulted in a full malfunctioning of a coach which is still out of commission. The owner says he will push reparation towards Mr. Kruger for his display of indecency and vandalism.

Well, whether you thing the liquid Mr. Kruger sprouted was pee, tea or creamy juices. It is up to you to decide.

***

Logan groaned in embarrassment, hands holding ice to nurse his battered nuts as he read the article filled with many pictures of his balls being assaulted and his face screaming in pain.

The door banged opened before Ashley marched in, up to him and threw a kick right at his babymakers.

“You better take me out somewhere nice for dating such an embarrassment!” She yelled as she walked out, leaving Logan a whimpering nodding, crotch-fondling mess.