The Struggle of Getting Bigger, a Little Guy Problem written by Jimmy

 

The Struggle of Getting Bigger, a Little Guy Problem

 

by Jimmy

 

“Are you…sure this is going to ask?” Bill asks timidly.

Bill is in his underwear, looking apprehensive at the wide arrange of instruments laid out on the table. None of them look particularly soft to the touch. In addition those tools are about to be used on Bill’s genitals.

A few weeks back, Mr. Will Brady, Bill’s Dad reached out to Vince at Ballbusting Boy’s and asked for a special set of tools to be made to help his son grow…a little bit bigger where it really counts. The order had to be custom made after Mr. Brady gave him his son’s measurements.  Vince was so convinced that Mr. Brady had read the instruments wrong that he had him double check, much to the annoyance of his son.

Vince said that they would cost extra.

Mr. Brady did not hesitate to pay. If this worked…it would be worth it in his mind.

“I am not sure if it’s going to work son,” Mr. Brady sighs clapping Bill on the shoulder and getting down to his level. “And if you decide that you need a break, or are no longer interested in…getting bigger. I will understand.”

Bill gulps, still apprehensive. Bill made his Dad promise to pick a night that Sam Hell, his foster brother was working at the gas station down the street before scheduling this little session. No way did he want Sam Hell to see him like this.

“Okay Dad, let’s give it a try.”

“That’s the spirit!” Mr. Brady says enthusiastically, giving his sons shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Take off the shorts and hop up on the counter and we can get started.”

Bill nods his head, gripping the hard marble countertop and pulling himself up on top, is bare feet touching the pots below. He struggles out from his briefs and drops them on the floor.

Instantly Mr. Brady reminds him “After we are done you need to put them in the hamper.”

“Yes, Dad. But I might be sore and not wear anything to bed,” Bill points out his ocean blue eyes trusting and on his Dad looking a bit nervous. Twiddling his fingers, Bill taps the smooth cool countertop as he fully exposes himself again to his Dad. It’s certainly not the first time that Mr. Brady has seen Bill naked but with him sitting on top of the kitchen island he is so close to his groin that Bill can’t stop fiddling with his fingers and toes.

“First we are going to start with an ointment,” Mr. Brady explains. “You cover the whole area that you want to see growth in. It’s smooth to the touch and it is supposed to be…stimulating.”

“Oh.” Bill blushes, his cheeks reddening. “Does it…happen to everyone?”

“Yes, it’s an aphrodisiac.”

Bill’s eyebrows go up, and Bill’s face reflects a dumbfounded expression.

Mr. Brady explains some more. “An aphrodisiac is a stimulant that will give you an erection, and trigger your sexual desires.”

Bill gulps and mumbles “Okay.”

His Dad wastes no more time explaining but covers the palm of his hand with the white goop, it’s thick and smooth and as he grabs Bill’s tight scrotum and penis he slowly works the moistening lotion into the skin.

“Oh,” Bill says biting his bottom lip.

“You should start feel a tingling sensation at the root of your penis and it will slowly travel up to the crown. Your testicles will take longer to fully take it in,” Mr. Brady explains and Bill nods along as his twitching fingers grip the counter so hard that they turn white. “Are you feeling the effects?” Mr. Brady asks.

“Y…yes,” Bill mumbles biting his lip as his cock hardens in Mr. Brady’s hand. Mr. Brady is swirling his fingers in a circle really working it in until Bill is fully erect. The back of the box said to stop on the erection before pre-cums occurs so he backs off of the hardened tool and instead takes the small nutbag in hand and rolls Bill’s testicles inside of the soft stretched tight skin. Bill leans back a moan coming from deep in his belly as his Dad fondles him.

Mr. Brady is reading the direction and slowly tugs at the nuts as he rolls the slippery little beans in Bill’s peapod sack. He carefully watches Bill’s erection and sees a tremor running along the smooth organ and gives it a quick, and unnecessary tug. Bill moans, and thrusts it up in the air, his feet banging the steel pots below that hang from the undercarriage of the counter. He briefly looks apologetic as his ocean eyes grow a shade darker as his system begins to flood with the aphrodisiac. The stimulant is clearly working its magic.

Bill moans with longing as Mr. Brady takes his hands away. “Wait,” he pleads his pupils dilating and growing just a tad larger.

“Not yet,” Mr. Brady tells him as he picks up the small wooden hammer.

His body trembles at the sight of it, and Bill looks beseechingly up at his father. “Dad?” Bill asks, concern in his tone and wide eyes.

“I am now going to tap your balls, hitting each testicle separately…if possible. This might take me a few attempts to get it right. Your scrotum is very tight, Bill.”

Bill looks out the window, still clutching the countertop hard and nods his head. “Okay…just do it!”

Mr. Brady takes Bill’s scrotum in one hand isolating the left ball first but rolling it slightly to the side. Bill’s nutbag does not offer a lot of extra space but this maneuver seems to do the trick. Picking up the hammer between Bill’s knees he takes careful aim remembering what Vince’s instructions said: Hit each testicle exactly ten time, aim to hit each area around the orb at least twice to maximize the swelling and enlargement of the overall balls. Nodding his head, he swings the small hammer down a few times only gently touching the skin as he gets a feel of the weight of the small tool before he comes in with the first hit.

The first strike goes unnoticed on Bill’s face besides blinking of his son’s eyes, so he goes to town whacking around and as Mr. Brady counts in his head. At the end of the quick ten strikes, which barely took ten seconds Bill is groaning reaching to hold his balls but Mr. Brady catches Bill’s wrists telling him “The cream son, you’’l end up removing some. You can’t touch.”

“My balls…Dad…you hit my nut. Oooo you only got the one. Every time!”

“That’s right son, now it’s the other testicles turn.”

Bill’s eyes widen and he struggles to get down from the counter.

Mr. Brady was worried about this. He already decided himself he would do one full treatment and give it a week and see if there was any changes that did not last past the usual swelling. And Bill struggling so early on does not surprise him, and when he cuffs his sons wrists together Bill looks at Dad as if he has gone mad and puts the end of the chain above on a hanging hook that he purposely kept empty from its pot.

“What…what are you doing?” Bill says struggling as his upper body is now fully secured and he can barely move his arms.

“Doing what I have to do son,” Mr. Brady says as he secures his sons ankles to the pot hooks down below leaving Bill widely spread in a sitting position. “We are going to do the full session. After this, if it does not work or you are not happy with the results, we won’t go any further but we can’t stop now.” Mr. Brady pats his son’s cheek and gives him an affectionate hug, it’s a bit awkward as Bill can’t hug back and Bill is still erect but Mr. Brady tells him “I love you, and this is for your own good.”

Bill nods solemnly. “If you say so Dad.”

“That’s the spirit.”

Mr. Brady takes Bill’s other nut, isolating it before grabbing the small wooden mallet. Bill gulps, and licks his lips.

“This is gonna suck.”

Queitly, Mr. Brady agrees but he keeps his thoughts to himself as he swings it back and starts hitting the little trapped grape. Bill winces and “Oooo’s” after each quick snap of the hammer hitting his testicle. It’s over fast, but when Mr. Brady replaces the hammer with the wider mallet next Bill starts to shake his head.

“Dad…” Bill croaks. The plea goes unanswered as Mr. Brady winds up and slams Bill’s nuts into the cold marble. Bill’s testicles are squished flat and he yanks at the ropes holding him still trying to fold into a little ball.

“My nuuuuts!” Bill yells, his mouth hanging open after as his dad takes out the mallet from between his quivering thighs.

“You are doing great, son,” Mr. Brady tells him as he grabs his scrotum and feels the slippery little suckers rolling around in his silken skin. Bill’s genitals appear a little swollen after that hit and that’s exactly what the result says that they should be by the end of that blow.

“My balls, oh fuck…sorry I sweared…my fuc—king…nuts!”

“It’s swore son, the correct word to use the sentence is…”

Bill slumps against the ropes, his body glistening with tiny beads of sweat as if he had just stepped out of the steam room.

“Don’t care” Bill squeaks.

Mr. Brady notices that Bill’s erection is starting to fade and he takes another glop of the liquid lubricant and grabs the business end of his son’s penis. Bill barely notices at first until Mr. Brady’s rough hand starts to glide up and down the very short, stubby stoke. It’s not too long until Bill’s erection starts to twitch in his hand and Mr. Brady pulls back just as he spots a clear drop of pre-cum nestled on his tip.

Bill is breathing fast again and he moans when his Dad let’s go and almost snarls in disappointment.

“Not yet boy,” Mr. Brady says as he takes out the next device. This one is a bit more complicated, but as Mr. Brady attaches it around Bill’s walnut scrotum Bill starts to struggle with the devise separates one ball from the other.

“Wha…what does…that one do?” Bill asks in between breathes.

“You’re about to find out,” Mr. Brady says as he gently places Bill’s little peapod inside the tiny hole. “I will have to give compliments to Vince…he really did build these devise’s perfectly.”

Bill gulps as his ballsack goes inside the small sleeve, it feels cool on his nuts giving him a false sense of relief as Mr. Brady flicks on the switch on the side. Small jolts coarse through Bill’s nutsack as his nads electrify with sharp, hot jolts.

A scream is ripped from him and Mr. Brady turns it off as he hits a spot watch. “You get a minute’s reprieve.”

“D…dad?” Bill croaks, one hand grabbing his father’s shoulder. “I…you…c…can’t do that again. My nuts…oooh they sting!”

“Yeah?” Mr. Brady says distractedly grabbing his son’s cocklet and giving it a few tugs, making sure that he is still straight as an arrow.

“Yeeees….yes!” he screams as Mr. Brady turns it on, again.

Bill’s nuts sizzle inside of the devise and his penis gets harder and the boy roars as he is about ready to ejaculate, the red tip quivering as the tip slightly opens preparing to fire.

The switch is turned off and Bill who was arching his back falls back, only his balls tingle as he breathes quickly starting to lose focus. Mr. Brady does not have to check on his son’s erection this time. It’s easy to see him at full mass, the quivering joystick pulses to the beat of his son’s heart.

“Only one more time.”

Bill purses his lips, but otherwise says nothing. He’s spent, and blinks rather dully at his Dad, his cherry red lips wet as he mumbles something unintelligible.

His Dad chuckles as he flicks the on switch and Bill blue eyes light up, along with his nuts. Pain shots through his balls, pulsing erratically and he balls his hands into useless impotent fists clenching them tightly trying to ride out this latest wave.

Bill trembles and gawks “Not….again! Dad…my nuts…my…oh fucking hell, my nuuuuuuts!” Bill’s eyes widen as his Dad turns it off. Bill slumps back, and closes his eyes.

“Fuck.”

Mr. Brady pulls off the devise with a little plop, as Bill’s nuts pop out. His Dad rolls the tender nuggets in between his fingers admiring their size and shape.

“I think that I notice a difference” Mr. Brady informs Bill.

“R…really?” Bill mumbles, opening his hopeful blue tender eyes, as they soften staring at his Dad.

“Yes, son. They are bigger than before. But let’s not count our chicken yet,” Mr. Brady points out pushing Bill’s tiny robins eggs to the bottom of his tight ballsack, it was not a long trek to make.

Mr. Brady fishes for the next devise handle and carefully grabs it and brings the small gleaming circular clamps. The metal egg cups are small and Mr. Brady has trouble opening and closing them, the tiny clasps are barely visible due to the size of the testicle torture devises.

Bill gulps as they are clamped on, and his nuts feel tight and secure but also…slightly claustrophobic inside of the devise.

Bill goes to ask what these are for as Mr. Brady without warning pumps the clamp and Bill’s nuts squish inside and Bill instantly knows what the devise is doing.

“Noooooooooo!” Bill hollers as his nuts are slowly being crushed inside. Mr. Brady turns it twice more, as indicated by Vince’s directions and looks carefully at the small metal egg shaped cups.

“This really hurt?” Mr. Brady asks curiously as he clangs the two metal cups together with the nearby hammer that he used earlier. The musical sound is high and crisp but the hammer stroke has the opposite effect on Bill of being pleasant and he begins to plead for his future as a male.

“Dad…stop…please…I…my nuts…I won’t…be able to…have kids of you don’t stop!” Bill begs.

Mr. Brady considers this, but in Bill’s current state he’s not sure if Bill CAN have kids. His testicles are extra small. This might be his only way on ensuring that he gets a rugrat or two. In his mind, Mr. Brady can’t get away from the idea of Bill’s tiny soldiers beating their way into coming into the world. Besides, he’s pretty sure that Bill is never going to sleep with a woman. He’s only going to be in the bed with other men. And Mr. Brady is quite sure that when other male lovers are comparing their genitalia, they won’t want to with Bill’s sad little stumpy crayon or his barely visible nutsack. Thus Mr. Brady only has one alternative if Bill will ever be happy: he needs a grow-up.

“Oh Bill,” Mr. Brady sighs grabbing Bill’s chin and turning his head up to stop looking down at the sorry state between his legs. “I am doing this to help you be successful, your balls need this.”

Bill shakes his head free of his father’s grip, “No Dad, I—stop!”

Mr. Brady smacks his son in the nuts again with the hammer.

And that’s when the front door opens, both father and son hear it as Sam Hell, Bill’s foster brother calls out.

“I’m home early! Turns out that they needed one of us one tonight,” Sam Hell yells, taking off his work boots and dropping them noisily on the hardwood, where they bang echoes throughout the foyer.

“I know we ate dinner but…I’m hungry!” Sam Hell yells heading towards the kitchen.

Mr. Brady barely has time to turn to face his son, as Bill whimpers “Oh no! Don’t let him see!”

The door to the kitchen opens, and Mr. Brady smiles, trying to stand in front of the counter and block Bill from sight.

“Sooo….what’s going on?” Sam Hell asks, as he looks past Mr. Brady’s face and spots Bill naked, erect and tied-up on the counter.

“I can explain,” says Mr. Brady.

“Fuck me!” Bill curses, head dropping to the counter.

Sam Hell’s arms cross over his chest as he angrily yells “What the fuck?”

 

To be continued…