My Balls Inside Him, Requiem

Sunday—Requiem

I don't know how long I slept, but I woke much more rested than the night before. I think the previous two days had exhausted all of us, including our Mistress.

What finally awakened me was the sound of lots of activity at the head of the four poster bed. A six foot wooden frame with a pulley suspended from the top rail was in place. I hadn't heard it being moved in the room.

I woke up, sat up, looked around and realized the aluminum bucket was still there, several lengths of rope were laying across the bed (which mercifully finally had clean sheets), a medical tray with many instruments was perched on a rolling table next to the bed, and our Mistress had donned a sexy nurses uniform—the kind you can get at a novelty store around Halloween.

Of course handsome Mr. Long Penis was still naked, I think he had been all weekend, and was working on getting the frame in place under our Mistress's direction.

"Good morning," she said in the most friendly tone she had used all weekend. "It's time for your examination. Step over here please."

I complied.

"Please lay back on the bed and put your feet in the air." I did as I was instructed.

Holding her nose, she looked at her naked assistant and said "He smells awful. Please take him to the corner and have him wash."

Her well-hung assistant lifted me by the arm—I was still a bit unsteady, and walked me toward a corner of the room. There was a small drain but no shower. He picked up a hose and tossed me a bar of soap. He began to spray me. The water was cold, but rather refreshing and it helped me wake up. He wet me down, I washed myself, and then he sprayed me off.

"Be sure to get those testicles thoroughly cleaned." He stepped closer to me, I raised my penis, and he applied the spray directly to my balls. Damn, the pain already started. I didn't say a word because I felt today was going to be the toughest day of all, and I didn't want to make it worse for myself by complaining already.

The assistant threw me a dry towel and I quickly dried myself off. He took me by the arm and helped me back to the bed.

"Lay back again," she said. I obeyed and lay crossways across the bed. Sniffing the air, she said, "ahhh, much better, my pungent patient. Now put your feet up please." I did.

Without so much as a word, her assistant with the long slender penis walked to the other side of the bed, grabbed my feet and pulled them toward him. The head of his circumcised penis was (for a change) pointing downward, about an inch from my forehead.

Our Mistress sat on a stool, leaned forward, gently grabbed my testicles, and began examining them again.

"The swelling and bruising is much better," she said "which means our fun can continue. However, this left one has given us a lot of trouble this weekend and I think we need to remedy that. Remember how much trouble he had getting it inside him and how it slipped out when we were playing our games?"

"You may release him and step to the instrument tray." She instructed her naked assistant. Even though I knew I was in for an ordeal, I began to get aroused and I could feel my penis swelling.

He walked around to the tray. She looked at him and said "Clamp." He held out a medical clamp, the kind a surgeon might use on a bleeding artery. She took it in her right hand, tightened it around my scrotum just above where my left testicle is attached to the chord, and tightened it in place. It hurt a bit, but wasn't terribly painful. I breathed, but didn't utter a sound.

"The problem with this left testicle, sir, is that it doesn't hang as low as the other one. That's what's been causing us so much trouble this weekend. I aim to remedy that." She said matter-of-factly.

She instructed her naked assistant to step to the clamp, and pull it toward him. "Let's see if this solves the problem. If not, we may need more extreme measures."

He started to pull and the pain caused me to start to pant. "Pull harder," she shouted. I began to feel my left nut extend toward him and the pain of having it constricted within my sack was horrible.

"Keep pulling," she shouted and I saw him start to lean back in an effort to apply more force. I began slapping my hands on the bed, but still didn't cry out, fearing the consequences.

The pain shot into my stomach and the nausea returned.

After two or three minutes, the pulling was so forceful that I began to slide off the bed toward him.

"OK, you can release the clamp." Our Mistress ordered. Mr. Long Penis complied.

"Let's have a look at you." She said. After a moment of some rather pleasant fondling, she said, "Left one still doesn't hang low enough. We're going to have to go to plan B." I had the impression that she was going to use plan B regardless of whether plan A worked anyway.

"Please secure him to the bed," she instructed her well endowed assistant. "We can't have him slapping the bed any more."

His work was also having an effect on him, he was at full mast and his long slender penis was throbbing and bouncing up and down.

"We must further evaluate how to tame this rogue left testicle."

The assistant secured me to the bed, feet first then hands. Again, his penis, in its high erect position, was only a few inches from my face as he secured my hands. She saw my reaction to his long slender organ and barely suppressed her smile.

Our Mistress handed him a length of thin cotton rope and instructed him, "Tie off the left testicle and make sure we can access this ring." She slid a metal ring down the rope.

I felt his fingers isolate the left nut and then the rope tying it off.

"Biggest difference in testicles I've ever seen. The right hangs twice as low as the left. Never seen that before." She observed.

Our Mistress instructed her assistant to tie a second rope, probably about twenty feet long, to the ring, then throw it over the frame above the head of the bed where I was secured. Looking up, I could see it probably reached to the floor.

Our Mistress reached down, picked up the aluminum bucket, and walked over to where the rope lapped over the frame.

Our Mistress looked at her assistant and sneered, "I'll handle this part, because we must be careful when handling a single testicle, and you're not good for anything but fucking and anal nut encapsulation." She chuckled at her comment.

Still looking up, I saw our Mistress tie the rope securely to the aluminum bucket. She dropped the bucket, and I felt a bit of pressure on my left testicle, but not uncomfortable pressure. I looked down and saw that for the first time it was a bit higher than the right.

"Please get the reflex hammer," she instructed the naked assistant. He did, and handed it to her. She shook her head no and said, "You can handle this part of the procedure since it involves brute force."

"We need to evaluate the reflexes of the left testicle in light of everything that's happened this weekend. Please give him several firm blows on his left testicle from all angles and let's evaluate those reflexes."

Our Mistress's assistant climbed between my thighs and began several gentle blows on my testicles. With each, I writhed and grunted (but kept my mouth closed, not wanting to cry out), but definitely had a reaction.

"Harder," she said sternly, "you're not getting his full reaction." I saw him raise his hand a good two feet in the air and bring it down with all his might.

"Aaaaarghhhhh!" I screamed. She told him to do it four more times.

I began to gag from the horrible pain in the pit of my stomach. I was near to throwing up when she told him to stop.

I took a deep breath and gave a sigh of relief.

Our Mistress gave a pleased grin, looked at her assistant and said, "good, we've established that this testicle still has reflexes, now we will get it out of it's uncooperative state. Please go get the garden hose and bring it over here."

The hose had a spray nozzle attached, allowing the user to control the water flow. When aimed at my balls earlier at high pressure, it was really painful, but it could be throttled down quite a bit.

Our Mistress took the hose and began to hear a soft hiss as a trickle of water entered the bucket.

She smirked, and acting as if she were talking to my left nut, she said "two or three gallons of water in that bucket ought to get you out there with your big brother." Now the assistant smiled.

I heard the spray of water increase. I felt my left testicle begin to be pulled upward and squeezed tighter and tighter by the rope that bound it. The pressure increased steadily as the hiss of water into the bucket continued. Looking down, I could see my dark purple left testicle squeezed by the rope and stretched a full half inch further than my right.

The bucket must have been getting fuller because the pain was beginning to become unbearable. She stopped and gave the hose back to her assistant. Looking at him as he approached her, I could see that he was fully erect and his cock was bobbing up and down. Apparently he was aroused by my torture.

She ordered the assistant to get a large canvas bag from the cabinet. I could tell when he picked it up that it was quite heavy, he leaned to the side to carry it.

Our Mistress walked over to the bag, pulled out a small weight, and held it in front of me. "See these? Guess where they're going."

"Drop one every few seconds into the bucket," Our Mistress commanded her assistant. I heard the first plop of the weight into the water, then a ting when it struck the bottom. After about a minute, I began to experience a noticeable increase in the weight pulling on my testicle. After about five minutes, the combined weight of the water and the weights in the bucket lifted my butt off the bed. Five minutes after I was first lifted up, the handsome man with the long hard penis looked at Our Mistress and said "That's all Mistress."

"It's taking two gallons of water plus 16 pounds of lead weights to get your left nut to behave." She said in a rather frustrated tone.

"Come here, my assistant, and service my pussy while his left testicle stretches to a satisfactory location." The assistant practically ran to her, his high angled penis bouncing in front of him and she sat in a chair, pulled up her nurses skirt and pushed her thong to the side.

Looking left, I got a glimpse of a prize I had never experienced. A shaved vagina with fat outer labia and delicate inner labia that protruded slightly from her heavenly vulva. I watched the young man begin to lick greedily between her thighs, acting as if it was the first pussy he'd ever eaten. But I could tell from her sighs that it was clearly not. Temporarily, I forgot that my left nut was stretched with 35 pounds of force.

After several minutes of listening to him lapping away at her, she threw her head back, grabbed his hair with both hands and pulled him hard against her pussy. "Ohhhhh, God," she screamed. "Yes. God that is incredible." I could see her legs tremble as she was racked by waves of orgasmic tremors.

She held him that way for two or three minutes before she collapsed against her chair and pushed him to the side. If it's possible, I think his cock was even harder than when he began. I wish I could have stroked myself while watching him eat her, but damnit, I hadn't been allowed to touch myself all weekend and still longed to release my cum.

With the show over, I was brought back to the reality that my left nut was being pulled by so much weight I was lifted an inch or two from the bed.

Gathering herself, she pulled her thong back in place, lowered her skirt, and walked over to inspect their handiwork. She flicked my left testicle in several places with her finger. Because the testicle was so extremely compressed, the flicking immediately produced intense pain. She took what looked like a dental pick from the medical tray and began to prod my left testicle with it. I grimaced with the pain of that—not the stomach jarring pain of a deep ball strike, but the "local" pain of my scrotum being pricked.

Finally, she looked at her big dicked cunnilinguist and said, "Let's see what the results of our efforts have been." She ordered him to untie the bucket and lower it to the ground.

She held up my left testicle and squeezed it hard. But I made no sound. Honestly, I think it was slightly numb from the pressure and the weight that it had borne. It was a deep purple color, while the right one, though still slightly bruised, had more of a skin tone.

"Only one way to find out." She said, and the assistant groaned. "Put them back in there," pointing to his anus, and let's continue.

My left testicle was already aching and he grabbed it first. "No, no, no," She commanded, "right first, then left, as is our custom."

She looked at his hard cock, still sticking upright. "All that pussy eating seems to have made you excited, didn't it. Get those balls in, then you can cum."

Although he wasn't happy about having to insert my balls again, he was certainly happy to learn he was going to cum, so he practically shoved both my testicles into his rectum. This time, the left one plopped in easily. Still, it was very painful to be so confined and three days of this were really taking a toll on me.

She looked at me. "Guess whose going to take care of this problem." She smirked. She released my right hand and poured a bit of lubricant onto it. "Stroke him at the count of five, but not before."

She began to count. I stroked at five and he moaned. I stroked again at five. Over and over, I repeated the process. Because of the delay between strokes, I knew this was going to take a long time and that, if I were allowed to bring him to full orgasm, it would probably be at that pace or perhaps even slower. I used every technique I could think of to help speed up the process. The one thing I couldn't do was tickle the balls, which always seems to do the trick, at least for me.

Our Mistress pulled out a digital camera and began making snapshots of me stroking the assistant's long rigid penis. I'm sure the videotape captured it as well.

"For your wife." Our Mistress said.

I kept going, but because of our Mistress's strict insistence on waiting for her five count between strokes, it was a lengthy process. He would seem to get close, then would back away. The anal spasms would start, then subside. Each spasm was of course, a nutcrusher.

After about twenty minutes of mutual frustration on the part of me and Mr. Long Cock, our Mistress picked up a long, slender vibrator. She held it up, looked at him, and said "Maybe this will help you along." But instead of putting it against his balls or the base of his cock, for direct stimulation, she walked around behind him and forcefully shoved the vibrator in his anus.

There was no room! He screamed from the pain of having his rectum stretched even wider. I screamed from the pain of having an even more constricted space for my balls in there.

But the vibrator did seem to help and after I adjusted, it also became somewhat pleasant for me. After about another 15 to 20 strokes, he began the slow moaning of a man about to shoot his load. I think the vibrator was probably pushing on his prostate, and the cum, though less voluminous than the day before, erupted with considerable force, striking me in the face and under my chin. After it hit me, it began to run down my cheeks and onto my neck.

"Oh, I must have a picture of that. Look at what my two little toy boys just did for me." She chuckled. Snapping away.

She hadn't told me to stop, so I kept going until I could tell there was no more cum left in this load. Our Mistress then got really cruel. She grabbed a scrubber from the tray, the kind they use at the hospital to scrub your nails. She soaped it up and began to scrub the sensitive head of his penis with it.

This one took the cake. He gave the worst cries of post orgasm torture that I have ever heard. His anus placed so much pressure on the vibrator and my balls that I thought they would surely be mush.

I squeezed my hands tight against my restraints, attempting to control my screams.

Because of all the pressure, the vibration, his struggles as she scrubbed his cock head, and all the sexual activity I had witnessed during the weekend, the scrubbing created a big problem for me. I involuntarily began to spasm as I could feel a handsfree orgasm approaching.

"Please Mistress may I cum?" I cried out.

"Don't you even dare!" Was her reply.

"I cant control it. I can't stop it. Please, please!" And with that cum began seeping out of my tightly tied penis. Even with a tightly tied and stretched penis, the ropes of cum erupted and I could not stop them.

"You see what happens to boys after they cum, don't you?" She said in a low seething voice. She took the same scrub brush and started to forcefully rub the head of my cock with it. I was powerless to even move. She looked at me sternly and said "If anything comes out of his asshole, there will be hell to pay. Just take it like a man."

She tortured my cock head with the scrub brush for what seemed like forever, but it was probably only three or four minutes. By the time she finished, I had tears streaming down my eyes and I was whimpering for mercy.

She spoke as she scrubbed my cock head raw. "You directly disobeyed me and I will not tolerate disobedience from you. You will learn to follow my orders to the letter."

I could see my cock head, already purple and now with little bright red streaks where the teeth of the scrubbing pad left their marks. Now my cock was hurting even worse than my balls.

She walked over to the well-endowed young man, knocked him off of me, and said that my disobedience would have to be punished.

She had the young man untie my feet, come around to the head of the bed, and hold them over my shoulders. She walked over to the cabinet and pulled out a large strapon. It looked to be at least 8 inches long and thicker than anything I'd ever had up there. Certainly thicker than her assistant's. She strapped it on, lubed it up, and walked over to me.

"You're going to get fucked like the little harlot that you are, my boy!" she said with a sneer. "And I'll tell you for how long. Two minutes after I start, he's going to be hard." she said, motioning to the well-hung assistant. "You just emptied his balls out on your face and he's going to fuck your mouth from there until he cums. When he's finished, that's when I'll finish. Let's go."

She inserted the large dildo into my ass and it was damned uncomfortable. The largest thing I'd ever had in there was maybe a couple of fingers. I'd always had a strap on fantasy, but pictured something much smaller, at least for a beginning. She didn't give me any time to get accustomed, she drove it to the hilt on the first plunge and I groaned.

True to form Mr. Long Penis was very quickly at full attention again. Holding my feet with one arm, he the other one to push his penis toward my mouth.

Our Mistress looked at him and said, "I'm going to fuck him at a regular pace. You have to count five between each plunge. And don't disobey me or you'll be where he is."

Our Mistress grabbed my balls and used them to gain the leverage to do a forceful assault against my anus. She pushed with such force that I felt as if my insides were being ripped apart by the dildo.

Mr. Long Penis, of course, having cum just minutes earlier, took forever to finish. I used my tongue the most effective way I know how, lavishing attention on that beautiful cock head, but the closer he seemed to get, the further away he would drift during his five-count pause. The weekend was coming to a horrible end. I was pinned down and being fucked unmercifully from both ends.

They fucked me without pause for what was likely an hour. Finally, I felt his legs begin to tremble and his breathing quicken as he came (down my throat) thankfully without as much force as before, and my Mistress made one final ferocious push that left me howling in pain. And of course, throughout the session, I kept hearing the click, click, click of the camera shutter.