The B Factor: Ten testicle tales with Tom Holland

This is the final story of The B Factor. Special thanks to various readers who inspired these stories.

And very special thanks to Jason who created The B Factor with me. You are awesome, Jason!

Warning: Some of the tales contain graphic homosexuality and/or traces of cum.

Featured in all of these tales: Tom Holland

***

Good morning! (Prologue)

“This”, Tom mumbled to nobody in particular, “is gonna be a very interesting day…”


He was standing in the kitchen, a mug of coffee in his hands.

The 23 year old Spiderman star was bare naked, having just climbed out of bed. His body was slender but athletic, not too muscular but not skinny either.

His body had been called “girlish” by some – but Tom had learned a couple of neat tricks from the stuntmen he had worked with, and whenever he had been called “girlish”, Tom had replied with a move that turned the “girlish” insult against the accuser by making him scream in an utterly unmanly manner…

Tom didn’t have many things lined up today, dinner with a director and a radio interview. After that he was going to meet his girlfriend and, hopefully, have some wild and raunchy sex.

He was so fucking horny.

His dick was hard as a rock, and he looked down at it affectionately.

A little drip of precum was glistening at the tip.

“Good morning, handsome”, Tom smiled at his penis. “You’re up early. What some coffee?” Tom laughed at his own joke and pretended to pour some coffee in the vague direction of his dick.

Unfortunately, due to the fact that Tom had just gotten out of bed and was still a bit sleepy, compounded by his habit to fill his coffee mug to the very brim, the joke misfired spectacularly.

A wave of steaming hot coffee slopped out of the mug and came raining down on his dick, coating the sensitive helmet with the boiling liquid.

“Argh fuck!” Tom shrieked girlishly as his dick twitched in surprise, retreating and shrinking rapidly like a snail in danger.

“Fuck!” Tom repeated, screaming in pain and flailing his arms as his dick was sending pain signals through his body.

His mind was taken off the pain in his dick for a moment, though, when he bumped against a kitchen stool nuts-first.

For a moment, Tom went silent.

Then he screamed even louder, his eyes crossing and his lips quivering in pain.

His fingers cramped and the coffee mug slipped out of it. The boiling hot content came raining down on Tom’s genitalia, and the mug followed suit, crushing Tom’s precious right nut under it.

Tom screamed from the top of his lungs, stumbling backwards and stepping onto a broom. The handle went up, with picture-perfect precision, whacking him right in the nuts.

Funnily enough, the last thought that went through Tom’s mind before he passed out was: That’s what the victims of “Spider-Nuts” must have felt…

***

Spider-Nuts (The bully)

“Spider-Nuts” was a brilliant move, very effective – and totally hilarious.

Tom had learned it from a stuntman back in 2015, on the set of his first Spider-Man movie “The First Avenger: Civil War”, and he had used it several times since, always to great success.

The first time he had used it, Tom had just been announced the new “Spider-Man”. He had just turned 19, and he had been giddy and excited. He had been bracing for massive popularity and quite some controversy – but he hadn’t expected some fans’ reactions…

“Spider-Man is a man”, a big, bulky, freckled guy in his twenties snapped at him in the fruit section of a supermarket.

Tom blinked. “Pardon?”

“Spider-Man is a man!” the guy repeated, planting himself in front of Tom, folding his arms, looking down at the slightly shorter, slightly younger, definitely more handsome man in front of him. “You’re a little girl.”

Tom froze.

A few people stopped and stared.

“You’re no match for Doc Ock and Venom!” the bully spat, a cocky smirk on his face.

Maybe he expected Tom to burst into tears. Maybe he expected him to run away. Maybe he expected him to disappear into thin air and leave the role of Spider-Man behind.

He certainly didn’t expect “Spider-Nuts”.

“Spider-Nuts” was an elaborate combination of moves, executed in three phases.

Phase 1: Surprise

Tom’s foot crashed into his crotch, slamming his testicles into his body. It was a snap kick, hard and quick, leaving the recipient no time to react or retreat.

All the color left the bully’s face and he let out a surprised gasp, followed by a wheezing groan.

Two more snap kicks found the bully’s testicles, crunching them hard.

A few bystanders started snickering.

Phase 2: Humiliate

With a cheerful smile, Tom brought his hand up between the bully’s legs. It wasn’t the gentle, seductive grab of a girlish, adventurous teenager. It was the targeted, purposeful, willful move of a superhero.

Tom’s fingers closed around the bully’s less than impressive package, making him yelp and whimper in pain.

Some spectators cringed in sympathy, others laughed out loud at the hilarious expression on the bully’s face.

Tom’s smile never faded as he squeezed the bully’s nuts with all the force he could muster, squishing and squashing his testicles, twisting his balls, digging his fingertips into the tender little orbs, wringing the life out of the bully’s manhood.

The bully whimpered and squeaked, his face contorting into a mask of pain as the laughter grew louder and louder.

Phase 3: Destroy

When Tom had the feeling that the bully’s nuts were crushed between his fingers, he let go, taking a step back and smiling brightly.

The bully doubled over, and before he knew what hit him, Tom had swept him off his feet, grabbing his ankles and laying him on his back, spreading his legs in a wide V.

He brought his foot down hard, stomping the bully’s balls into his body and eliciting an anguished wail. Two more stomps to his swollen, battered balls, and the bully’s eyes rolled back into his head.

The crowd erupted in cheers and applause, and Tom took a bow, beaming and waving.

Adding insult to injury, Tom grabbed a pair of grapes and winked at the audience before putting them into his mouth and crushing them with his teeth, winking at the audience that roared with laughter at the crude visual.

***

Hard (The driver)

The first thought that went through Tom’s mind when he came to again was: That’s what the victims of “Spider-Nuts” must have felt…

After getting up from the kitchen floor and cooling his hot nuts down with an icepack, Tom got dressed.

He winced as he stowed his slightly swollen genitalia into his pants. His dick had been doused in boiling coffee but it seemed to be working just fine: It was hard as a rock inside his pants, creating a bulge that looked ridiculous and vulgar at the same time.

A driver was waiting in front of his house, and he had a slightly amused expression on his face as Tom limped towards him.

Abdel was standing next to the shiny black limousine, a good-looking young man of Moroccan descent, a tall guy with a model built, with pitch black hair and deep brown eyes. His vibrant blue uniform contrasted nicely with his dark skin, making him look strikingly handsome.

“Good morning, sir”, Abdel smiled.

“Good morning, Abdel”, Tom replied, slowly walking towards him.

“Had a hard time getting up, sir?” Abdel said with a wink, glancing at Tom’s obvious erection.

“Very funny”, Tom chuckled. “You should try comedy.”

Abdel chuckled.

Over the past couple of weeks, the two young men had built good rapport, discovering similar interests and sharing the same sense of humor.

“You should try sports”, Abdel grinned. “With a bat like that you’d be a baseball star!”

Tom let out a laugh that quickly turned into a cough when Abdel threw his set of car keys at the actor’s crotch, hitting him square in the nuts with them.

“That was a homerun!” Abdel quipped. “You need to work on your reaction!”

Tom groaned, doubling over and cupping his crotch. “I wasn’t ready”, he replied, playing along with Abdel’s joke. He bent down and picked up the keys before throwing them back at Abdel. “Try again”, he said with a cocky grin, straightening and putting his hands behind his head.

With a laugh, Abdel threw the key at Tom’s crotch again.

This time, Tom’s crotch met Abdel’s keys so that it crashed into the tip of the “bat” in a perfect hit.

Tom grimaced a little but raised his hands, cheering as Abdel burst out laughing.

“Not bad”, Abdel chuckled. “What about football?”

Tom’s eyes widened. “Wait, wha---”

He was interrupted by a quick, hard kick to the nuts worthy of a field goal.

Tom’s eyes bulged and his cheeks puffed as he sank to the ground. On the way down, he managed to squeak, “Good one...”, before curling up in a ball, groaning in pain.

“Thank you, sir”, Abdel chuckled. “It looks like football might be more suited for me…”

He straightened his cap, opened the car door and smiled. “Ready when you are, sir.”

Tom let out a cough. “Give me a moment.”

When they arrived at the restaurant, the pain in Tom’s nuts had almost completely subsided – and the erection was alive and well inside Tom’s pants.

Abdel opened the car door to let Tom out of the car, and he couldn’t help but “accidentally” slam the door into Tom’s crotch as he got out.

“I’m so sorry, sir”, Abdel said with a grin that had a very different meaning. “I hope I didn’t break anything…”

“Nope”, Tom mumbled, a weak smile on his pain-contorted face.

“Have a good day, sir”, Abdel chuckled. “See you tomorrow.”

***

Roleplay (The director)

Tom entered the restaurant with a considerable limp, carefully navigating the various potentially nut-threatening obstacles on the way: the pole in the middle of the sidewalk, the doorman with the mischievous grin, the sign at the entrance of the restaurant that was exactly at crotch-height, the waiter who led him to the table, the table itself with it’s nasty corners, and the chair that – like every chair – presented a considerable risk for Tom’s low-hangers…

He sat down in front of Damien Chazelle, letting out a deep sigh.

35 years old, Damien already had an Oscar and a Golden Globe under his belt after setting a new record for being the youngest person to ever with both trophies at age 32. He had directed several performances that went on to win prestigious awards, including three Oscars, and Tom had been looking forward to getting a chance to work with him. Maybe this was the turning point in his career that steered him from underappreciated “young DiCaprio” into “old DiCaprio” territory before he turned forty?

After a bit of smalltalk, they talked business.

The director talked about his new project, a romantic drama. The main parts had already been cast. Tom was in contention for the part of the rebellious son, also named ‘Tom’ by pure coincidence, whose character arc involved a difficult relationship with his current girlfriend, and a bisexual love triangle between ‘Tom’, his girlfriend and a priest with a dark past.

The role sounded intriguing, three-dimensional and well-developed, a pivotal character in the plot, provocative but agreeable, just the right stuff to switch Tom’s label from “guy in a superhero suit” to “serious actor”, controversial enough to overshadow the main characters but not too controversial to get awards attention, perfectly suited to Tom’s needs.

Naturally, Tom was hyper-excited.

“I’d like to see what you’d do with the role”, Damien said casually.

“Sure”, Tom said, shifting on his seat. He was nervous and thrilled, psyched up and mellow, full of ideas and completely shiftless at the same time. It was a familiar feeling that he enjoyed very much, marking the start of a relationship between an actor and their character. Everything was possible, and not even Tom knew how ‘Tom’ would turn out to be.

“It can’t be a coincidence that we share the same name, right?” Tom added with a grin.

Damien smiled. “You’re absolutely right! Do you get ‘Tom’?  Do you have any more questions before we start? I don’t want you to break character, alright?”

“Yeah, no, sure, I mean---” Tom cleared his throat, changing his pose as he slipped into the character. This was his chance. He was not going to blow it. “Bring it on. I’m ’Tom’. Nothing can faze me.”

Damien smiled. “I like that”, he said, straightening his shirt as he got up. “I’ll be ‘Father Ned’. A couple of years have passed since we last met.” He made a gesture in the vague direction of the other restaurant guests. “We’re in a restaurant. ‘Tom’ is waiting for his girlfriend.” Damien couldn’t hide a smile at the sight of Tom’s erection. “He’s horny as fuck. And he’s mad as hell at ‘Father Ned’.” Damien paused. “What will he do when they meet?”

Tom nodded, slipping deeper into his role. “Got it. Ready.”

Damien walked out of the restaurant, only to return a moment later, playing the role of ‘Father Ned’.

“Tom”, he said in a full, ingratiating baritone. “How nice to see you, young man.”
Tom turned his head. His face spoke volumes: confusion, cognition, distress, irritation, anger.

It was an great performance.

“Father”, Tom said in a toneless voice, getting up.

“It must have been years”, Damien said, a serene smile on his face.

“It has been years”, Tom replied dryly.

“Come here, my boy”, Damien said, spreading his arms.

For a brief moment, Tom hesitated. Then he hugged Damien.

“I haven’t told anyone”, Tom whispered into Damien’s ear, “yet.”

“What was that?” Damien replied, trying to take a step back. But Tom was holding him tightly.

“I hate you, Father”, Tom whispered.

Then he kneed Damien in the nuts.

His knee connected with the director’s groin much harder than Tom had intended.

Damien let out a miserable grunt.

For a moment, Tom considered stopping. But then he remembered what Damien had said: Don’t break character.

Confidently and with all the anger that had been with ‘Tom’ all those years, he rammed his knee into Damien’s nuts once again.

“Tom”, Damien croaked.

“Shut up, Father”, Tom mumbled, kneeing Damien in the balls once again.

Damien let out a whimper.

“All those years”, Tom proclaimed before crushing Damien’s nuts with his knee once more. “All those years of pain and suffering.”

“Tom!” Damien whispered.

Once again, Tom’s knee found Damien’s nuts.

“Damn you, Father!” Tom declared. “Damn you!”

He kneed Damien in the nuts one more time.

“Tom!!!” Damien shrieked as he sank to the floor.

Tom inhaled deeply as he looked down at the fallen man, on his knees, clutching his crotch.

His dick inside his pants was rock hard.

A thought popped into his head. It was a daring choice for an actor. It was what ‘Tom’ would do.

“Ready for your communion, Father?” Tom declared as he unzipped his pants.

***

Exposure (The pedestrian)

The dinner with Damien Chazelle ended on a rather unfortunate note. It seemed like Tom’s approach to the role didn’t quite match Damien’s.

Tom hadn’t even get to finish the scene. Before ‘Tom’ was able to christen ‘Father Ned’ with a nice, juicy load, people pulled him off. Tom never broke character, kicking and screaming (and landing another hard kick to ‘Father Ned’’s nuts in the process), as he was kicked out of the restaurant.

After he couldn’t get back into the restaurant, Tom tried to phone Damien to get some feedback, but the director seemed a little terse. “We’ll call you”, he said in a hoarse voice, his throat probably a little sore from the hard dicking that ‘Tom’ had given him. Then he hung up.

Tom let out a sigh.

He looked at his watch. He had an hour to get to the hotel where the radio interview was going to take place. It was just a few blocks away, and he decided to walk.

He noticed a few stares from people on the streets but he thought nothing of it. Spider-Man fans, probably. They were everywhere. How on earth had he gotten so popular?

He smiled and waved as he made his way down the street.

It was only when a man stepped into his path that Tom noticed something was wrong.

The man seemed agitated. He was old, with grey hair, wearing a hat and carrying a walking stick.

“Do you have no decency?” the man asked.

Tom blinked. “I--- What?”

The man didn’t say a word. He brought his walking stick up between Tom’s legs where it collided with Tom’s exposed dick and his bare, cum-filled balls with a resounding smack.

“Ughghggh”, Tom grunted.

“Pervert”, the man mumbled as Tom sank to his knees.

“Fuck”, Tom groaned, cupping his crotch.

A few people laughed, some clicked their tongues, most of them minded their own business as Tom stuffed his dick into his pants.

He was so fucking horny!

The aborted blowjob had done nothing to bring down his erection – on the contrary! He was hornier than before. So horny in fact, that he hadn’t even noticed his dick and balls poking out of his pants!

Tom groaned as he got up, double-checking his fly before heading to the hotel.

***

Cocky (The reporter)

When Tom arrived at the hotel, his dick was hard as a rock.

He made his way up to the hotel room and talked to his agent, his manager and the rest of his entourage. Neither of them were happy with what had happened at the restaurant, but Tom didn’t care. He was fucking horny.

A few minutes later he was sitting on a couch, one arm on the side rest, the other arm on the back rest, his legs spread, completely at ease and comfortable, his dick rock hard and throbbing inside his pants..

The report who sat opposite him couldn’t believe his luck.

Here he was, interviewing one of the most accessible, most well-liked people in Hollywood, friendly and polite, hardworking and ambitious, talented and charismatic, the perfect package. Tom Holland sat right in front of him. wearing a smart, perfectly tailored suit in combination with a casual t-shirt, radiating confidence and effortlessness, a sense of fashion and a disdain for fake fashionability.

“So what will you do now?” the reporter asked. He was a young man in his early twenties, a slim, good-looking nerd with short blond hair and glasses. Despite the fact that he was completely star-struck he managed to keep up the professional façade. “What will you do now that you have been crowned…” He looked at his notes. “Best Ballbuster.”

“It’s a huge honor”, Tom leaned back, spreading his legs a little further apart, his smile widening as he watched the reporter’s eyes drop to the shifting package between his thighs. “You know, people think the Oscars are a big deal – but this is so much more important.”

The reporter was clearly distracted by the Hollywood star’s impressive package.

“This is for the radio, right?” Tom smiled.

The reporter nodded, clutching the little recording device he was holding with both of his hands, his eyes fixed on the massive bulge in Tom Holland’s pants.

“Good”, Tom grinned. Then he spread his legs even wide, looking deep into the reporter’s eyes as he presented his formidable package.

The young reporter swallowed hard as Tom slipped out of his shoe, winking at him. He was wearing dark grey socks that looked a little damp which was no surprise after he had been on his feet the whole day.
 
“What were we talking about?” Tom asked softly as he smiled at the reporter, flirting shamelessly. He wiggled his toes. His foot found its way to the inside of the reporter’s left leg, slowly moving up, causing the reporter to bite his lower lip and inhale sharply.

“You were talking about a big deal”, the reporter said in a hoarse, husky voice. He felt his dick stir his pants, and within seconds he sported a very prominent erection.

He looked to the side. There were people in the room with them. Tom’s agent and other guys from his entourage plus a big, heavy security guy and a waiter. They didn’t seem to notice what was going on. Maybe they had grown bored by the previous interviews.

“Yeah, right”, Tom chuckled. “A big deal.” He winked at the reporter. “You know, I had some fierce competition…” His foot moved up until his toes found the reporter’s crotch. “But I crushed it.”

With that, Tom brought his foot back and rammed it into the reporter’s crotch, crunching his nuts hard and squashing them against his body.

The report let out a soft moan, not loud enough to catch the attention of the other people in the room, but certainly loud enough to make Tom chuckle.

“I crushed it”, he repeated with a wicked smile, pressing his foot against the reporter’s hard dick and his churning testicles, flattening them and making him moan in pain and pleasure. “Because I love what I do.”

The reporter’s mouth was gaping open as he received the first, best and worst footjob from a celebrity that he had ever gotten. His dick was pulsing inside his pants.

“And I love to share it with the world”, Tom continued, mercilessly squishing and squashing the reporter’s tender orbs with the sole of his socked foot, making sure to give his hard dick a couple of stomps as well, causing the poor young reporter to raise his fist and dig his theeth into his knuckles as his nuts were crunched by the Hollywood superstar.

Tom smiled at him, a cheeky glimmer in his eyes as he crushed his dick and balls with his foot, taking great pleasure from the reporter’s muffled moans and groans.

“What I’ll do now”, Tom said, pivoting to the reporter’s question with the ease and effortlessness of a veteran interview partner, “is making sure that---” He lent weight to his words by stomping the reporter’s nuts hard with every syllable. “---each and every ball in the world gets the attention it deserves.”

With the final stomp on the final word, the reporter started creaming his pants. His body was shaking by a violent, involuntary orgasm that didn’t go unnoticed by Tom.

The handsome actor leaned back, a satisfied smile on his face. “Any more questions?”

The reporter hastily got up, his pants wet and sticky. He grabbed the press kit and pressed it against his crotch as he stumbled out of the room, his head beet red, his balls drained and busted.

Tom Holland let out a laugh. “Next, please!”

As the reporter left the room, he passed the big, heavy security guy.

Their eyes met, and the reporter thought he saw a sympathetic smile on his face.

The moment passed, and the reporter left the room.

***

Flexible (The security guy)

In his career as a security serviceman, Eddie had seen many celebrities – but nobody had been as cocky and confident as Tom Holland.

Standing in the corner, a mute and silent witness of everything that went on in the press room, Eddie had seen Tom Holland violently forcemilk the cum out of three reporters with his foot, and crush the balls of five more without allowing them to shoot their loads.

Eddie was an ex-cop, fired for the petty theft of some family jewelry that belonged to a co-worker. He was a hulk of a man, forty-two years old, strong and muscular, with a full head of blond hair. His black uniform and the utility belt that held his baton, his keys and his radio device made him look a lot less agile than he was.

Eddie knew that people like him were virtually invisible to people like Tom Holland and his entourage, so nobody took notice when Eddie disappeared for a few minutes to prepare the room next door, and nobody grew suspicious when Eddie announced on his return that the press room had to be evacuated due to an unspecified danger. Nobody took notice when Eddie told Tom that he had to separate him from his entourage, and nobody objected when Eddie led Tom away.

As soon as they turned the corner, Eddie slammed Tom against the wall.

“I saw what you did to those poor guys”, Eddie growled, his mouth inches from Tom’s.

“I know”, Tom whispered in a low voice. He reached between Eddie’s thighs. “And the boner in your pants tells me that you enjoyed it…”

There was a moment of stunned silence, then Eddie slammed his knee into Tom’s crotch, making the handsome actor double over and groan in pain.

The 23 year old actor was no match for the big, heavy, strong man who was easily twice his size.

Knee after nut-crunching knee found poor Tom’s testicles, smashing them into his body and flattening them like pancakes. After a dozen knees, Tom’s groans turned into whimpers. After another dozen, his whimpers turned into soft, miserable moans.

Eddie took a step back, allowing Tom to slide to the ground, cupping his crotch, his famous face a mask of pain.

Eddie smirked and grabbed him by his feet, dragging him into the room next door where he stripped the handsome actor bare naked.

Tom put up some resistance, but due to the pain in his testicles it was utterly unsuccessful, and Eddie just laughed it off, humiliating Tom further with a few well-placed kicks to Tom’s naked nards.

Before he knew what was happening, Tom was handcuffed and turned upside down, head over heels, his lean body twisted into a prezel. His eyes were filled with terror as he found himself staring at his bruised and swollen ballsack, his limp dick dangling right in front of his face like an overcooked noodle sticking to a pair of bloated meatballs.

Tom’s panic went into overdrive when Eddie stripped naked, jerking his dick as he grabbed his nightstick.

The force of the penetration took Tom by surprise.

Eddie fucked the famous actor with the nightstick and his dick, taking turns. His dick was fat and thick, a beer can of a cock, not as long as the nightstick but wider and girthier. Whenever Eddie fucked Tom with his dick, he whacked him in the nuts with the nightstick, and whenever he fucked Tom with the nightstick, he used his fist to punch poor Tom’s balls.

Though Tom was in no position to appreciate the variety of fuck tools, screaming and moaning in agony, his dick seemed to respond rather positively to the stimulation of his prostate. It grew bigger and bigger, much to Tom’s dismay, coming closer and closer to Tom’s mouth.

After a particularly deep thrust with the nightstick and a particularly hard punch to the gonads, Tom’s dick entered his mouth and he let out an indignant – if muffled – grunt of protest.

“I knew you’d like it”, Eddie growled. Instead of taking turns, he thrust both his dick and the nightstick into Tom’s hole, double-penetrating Tom’s ass while he was face-fucking himself.

In a slightly ironic turn of events, Tom came first. His cheeks puffed and his eyes filled with shock as his mouth filled with his own spunk.

Eddie released his load a little later, driving his sperm into Tom’s hole with the nightstick while squeezing a second load out of Tom’s bruised and battered balls.

After he had emptied his balls, Eddie left without a word, his nightstick poking out of Tom’s cum-covered hole.

***

Bros (The first responders)

Some emergency sites are more memorable than others, and today’s scene certainly fit the bill for Sven and Junior, the first responders tasked with finding out what was going on after people had heard strange sounds coming out of the room.

“That’s Tom Holland”, Sven said, chuckling.

“Nah”, Junior said, scratching his head. “You think so?”

They were in their late twenties, best friends and polar opposites. Sven was a Scandinavian type, bright blond and blue-eyed, with a heavy built and a beard. Junior had a slender, delicate frame, curly black hair and ebony skin.

Their friendship had started a few years ago, when they were both new on the job, and it had developed into something more, a passionate and slightly kinky bromance.

That’s why the two men instantly grew hand inside their pants when they saw Tom, upside down, his dick in his mouth, a nightstick in his ass.

“Definitely”, Sven said. “I know a Marvel hero when I see one.”

“Ever fucked a Marvel hero?” Junior smiled, pulling the nightstick out of Tom’s hole and peeking inside the gaping orifice.

Sven shrugged his shoulders. “First time for everything…”

They shared a laugh and Junior playfully whacked Tom in the balls with the nightstick.

Then they started fucking him, taking turns using his ass and his mouth, sharing him between them like only bros do.

They used Tom’s nuts as a handle, squeezing his drained, swollen balls as they took turns fucking him.

When they left about an hour later, a few more loads had found their way inside Tom’s hole, and he had shot two more loads inside his own mouth.

“I guess we’re supposed to help him”, Junior said as he buttoned his pants.

Sven nodded, reaching inside his tool kit before fumbling with Tom’s crotch.

“There you go”, he said with a satisfied smile, taking a step back.

Junior looked at Tom’s crotch and let out a laugh.

Sven grinned. “He’s safe now”, he grinned before picking up his radio device. “Situation under control”, he said in a casual voice. “No danger.”

The door closed behind them, leaving Tom in the same position they had found him in – but with his dick locked inside a chastity cage.

“Oh no”, Tom whispered, his lips smeared with his own cum. “Oh no.”

***

Chaste (The cleaning crew)

“Oh no”, Danilo sighed when he opened the door about five hours later. “Will you look at that?!”

Behind Danilo, three more young men appeared, all dressed in simple, functional cleaning crew work coats, their beige uniformity designed to hide individual traits and morph unique people into a smooth-edged workforce.

Tom looked at them, his nuts bloated, his dick locked, his face and his body and the floor around him covered in cum.

“Come on, let’s get this over with”, Danilo sighed, slipping into his gloves and grabbing a bristle brush.

He grabbed Tom’s cum-covered nutsack and started working it with the brush, eliciting screams of agony while his co-workers took care of his face and his ass and the floor around him.

When the crew were done, Tom’s face, his body and the floor around him were squeaky clean – but his dick was still locked in the chastity device and his body was still twisted like a pretzel.

His swollen nuts were bright red and shiny, polished to perfection by the expert hands of Danilo and his friends.

Tom Holland blinked.

After the cleaning crew had left the room, Tom heard a familiar voice.

***

Good night (Epilogue)

“Tom?”

“Olivia?” Tom croaked. “Olivia! I’m here!”

The door opened and Tom’s girlfriend entered the room.

“Thank god”, Tom croaked, his voice hoarse and throaty. “Thank god you’re here! I’m---”

Her stiletto heel found the center of Tom’s sack, crunching his battered nuts and eliciting a shrill squeal.

“Pervert”, she said as she turned on her heel.

It took a little time until Tom was able to think straight again.

“This”, he mumbled to nobody in particular, “has been a very interesting day…”