London Pride

"Yes, I love balls. I like them finely chopped and quickly fried in olive oil. Or cooked slowly in a casserole."

James shrieked in terror at the thought. These girls were mad. He suddenly realised how vulnerable he was, with one of them sitting on his face, his testicles at the mercy of the other, and his ankles tied wide apart. His already soft cock started to shrivel. He tried to pull his ankles free, but to no avail.

"Oh, don't be silly, James," laughed Heather, who was really starting to enjoy their humiliation of the cheating bastard. "She's just teasing you. You're not really going to cut his balls off, are you Carol?"

"Well, probably not, but to make sure I don't, you'd better get that tongue back up Heather's ass."

Reluctantly, James did as he was told. It didn't taste quite as bad as he had feared. At least, as Heather gave a sigh of contentment, he felt some relief as Carol loosened her grip on his balls. She kept them wrapped in her hand, just to make sure he knew who was in charge.

Heather had only recently learnt to climax from anal stimulation, thanks to an attentive young man she had been with for a while but had to chuck after she realised he had been pleasuring other women in the same way. The relative novelty of it made it particularly exciting for her, and it was now her favourite way to come.

She closed her eyes to concentrate on the intense sensations brought on by his flickering tongue, and pulled hard on her pelvic floor muscles to strengthen the feelings and bring on her orgasm.

"Push it in as far as you can," she gasped.

James did as he was told with his exhausted tongue, still acutely aware of Carol's hand around his sack and fearful of another ball-crushing if he failed to comply. He felt a curious mixture of pleasure and pain from her fingers and from the uncomfortably large butt plug.

Heather felt the tingling intensifying, and then the orgasm hit her, a sequence of strong spasms shooting from her anus to her clit and up through her whole body. As the waves of pleasure subsided, she relaxed, still sitting on his face with most of her weight.

Carol reached into her handbag and pulled out what she needed.

With her other hand, that was still holding his balls, she squeezed firmly down on the top of his sack, forcing the balls down to the bottom end. Then she quickly hooked the padlock around the narrowed part of the sack above his balls and snapped it shut.

James felt the cold steel wrap around him and felt a tight pinching as the lock closed.

"What's that!" he cried, as Heather lifted herself off him, allowing him to speak.

"It's a padlock," explained Heather helpfully.

James looked down at his balls in horror as the two girls got up off the bed. A large, heavy, steel padlock was indeed clamped around the top of his balls. He pulled at it, but it wouldn't come off. He reached down and felt one of his testicles, trying in vain to work it up and through the loop of the lock.

The girls smiled at the pathetic man sitting helplessly on the bed, naked except for Heather's panties draped over his dick, as it slowly dawned on him that the only way he could get the lock off without the key would be to crush both his own testicles.

He looked up just in time to see Carol drop the key into her handbag as she slipped her shoes on. She threw her own panties into his face.

"You can keep these as a souvenir," said Carol.

She waved a card at him. He recognised it as his business card, with his office phone number on it. She must have got it from the pocket of his jacket.

"Don't call us, we'll call you," she laughed.

"Oh, and good luck explaining that to your wife!" she added, pointing at the padlock.

Leaving James naked on the bed, staring at his predicament, the girls ran out of the room and the hotel into the London night, giggling as they left.

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Acknowledgements: I am grateful to the Literoticati who read and commented on the draft version of this story.