Chapter 2: Jim's Destruction
Amber leaned back, pulling away from Jim’s ear and using her rounded, bony knee like a rolling pin on the swollen mush between Jim’s legs. She started shifting her weight backwards and forwards, a slow, deliberate piston driven by her hips. The broad surface of her kneecap rolled over the devastated landscape of his scrotum with a terrible, thorough precision. Each forward grind mashed the sensitive, ruined tips of his testicles against the unyielding metal plate beneath; each backward drag pinned the bottoms, forcing them to absorb the full force of her weight.
Jim had experienced ‘devastating’ before, thanks to his role at the BIA. He had taken hard kicks where it counted. Vicious and experienced ballbusters had squeezed his testicles, stood on them, stomped on them, and more. This was somehow worse than it all. He was tied down, arms and legs restrained, unable to move even an inch. His family jewels had been horrifically beaten and were now strapped in place, served up in a metal bowl to a nasty bitch. And that nasty bitch was taking her sweet time ensuring that every single nanometer of his manhood got properly flattened.
Amber felt a wet, crunching sensation beneath her knee, which seemed to be the collapse of whatever structural integrity had survived the mallet. This prompted a new round of screaming and wailing from Jim, a hoarse, rhythmic sound that matched her movements. His body could do nothing but conduct this raw signal of pain.
“That’s it, ball bitch, sing for us. Sing us the song of your people!”
Nicole, lying naked on the ground in front of Jim, couldn’t help herself. She watched his face, twisted and glistening, his mouth a perfect ‘O’ of endless torment. A soft sigh escaped her lips. She slipped a finger between her own legs to pleasure herself, her gaze fixed on his agony. Her hips gave a slight, reflexive curl against the cold floor.
“They’re going to love him tomorrow,” Nicole murmured, her voice thick with arousal. “He’s perfect for this assignment.”
His screaming hitched, transforming into a broken, accepting sob. Amber stopped rocking forwards and backwards, opting now to swivel her knee back and forth right in the swollen, aching center of his swollen sack. The motion was a focused, sawing grind, as if she was twisting and turning the contents of his soul.
Amber adjusted the position of her hands on Jim’s back for maximum leverage as each swirl of her knee crushed his battered man meat under her patella. A new, sharper type of fire ignited, cutting through the deep throb. It felt like coarse sandpaper was being applied directly to his rawest nerves. His body went rigid, then slack, all fight utterly dissolved.
The swiveling became slower, more deliberate, a cruel demonstration of control. Jim could only drool onto the leather, his mind a blank, white slate of suffering. He didn’t have a name, a mission, or a past anymore. His whole world was reduced to the hellacious, soul-consuming ache between his legs.
Finally, at long last, Amber decided Jim was sufficiently flattened and got down. His breath returned in one long gasp as both his lungs and his nuts reinflated at the same time. Even though the pressure was relieved, he kept spasming in his restraints. The devastation Amber wrought had settled deep in his bones; he was going to be wracked by her agony for a long time to come.
“I told you I’d break you.”
Jim couldn’t form words even if he wanted to. He just sobbed gently and rode the waves of suffering brought by Amber’s ruthless knee, trying to hold on for dear life to consciousness.
Amber reached down and pulled the aching remains of Jim’s testicles out of the small bowl in the platform where they had been trapped. He gasped involuntarily, body tense, as he felt her fingers wrap around his manhood once again, gently exploring the depths of the damage she had caused. She hardly used any pressure at all, but after everything he had just been through, it was more than enough to start another five-alarm fire in his nervous system.
“You're a real mess down here.” She glanced at Nicole, who was still touching herself, her breath coming faster. “They’re quite swollen and very hot to the touch. He must be aching something fierce.”
Jim just let out a long, slow cry of despair, knowing that nothing could save him from experiencing whatever torment Amber wanted to deliver. His body shook in his restraints, a mixture of pain and nervous anticipation, as she massaged his swollen orbs with her fingers.
“Don’t worry, though, ball bitch. They’re both still whole. We haven’t done anything permanent to you. Yet.”
Nicole kept working her fingers deep inside her folds, pleasuring herself to the sounds of Jim’s total vulnerability. She let out a soft moan of pleasure as he suffered.
Amber rearranged Jim’s sack in her hands, now holding both swollen nuggets in the palm of her left hand. She used her right hand to remove the platform that had been between Jim’s legs, then let go of his scrotum and let it dangle freely. He let out a soft gasp of relief as he felt his manhood slip out from between her dangerous fingers without any further assault.
Once Jim was positioned properly, Amber stood up and walked over to the wall to select her final torture implement. Jim let out a frightened yelp when she settled on the familiar yet menacing wooden baseball bat. She swung it menacingly into her palm as she strutted back to Jim, looking down at him like a predator looks at prey after the kill.
“How’re you doing, slugger? Able to form words yet?”
He opened his mouth, trying to form words but still too spent from her earlier onslaught to do so. Nicole couldn’t help but taunt him while slicking her fingers back and forth between her legs.
“I know you’re all proud of your big pair, but Amber really got you good, didn’t she?”
Jim just nodded, still unable to make coherent, audible sounds. His entire body was shivering, partly from the pain inflicted by Amber’s knee and partly in terrified anticipation of what was still to come.
“This is what normal men feel like, Jim-bo, when they get kicked in the balls. And now that we’ve torn down your defenses, in a minute, you’ll learn how a normal man feels when he gets hit in the balls really fucking hard by a baseball bat.”
Amber gently tapped the underside of his scrotum, which was visibly swollen and bruised, with the firm wood of the bat’s barrel. Jim jumped in his restraints, panting heavily in relief that this was just a light touch and not a home run blow.
“Any manners left, ball bitch? Or have I beaten them out of you?”
“P… pl… please …” It was all he could do to choke out the word.
“Please? Please what? Please beat your balls again, only harder? Please swing this bat as hard as you can into my nutsack?”
Jim shook his head side to side in fear, a mixture of sweat and spittle dripping off his chin as he did so.
“Pl… please … gentle …”
“Gentle? Gentle? No, ball bitch, I will not be gentle. In fact, I’m going to swing as hard as I possibly can. Your balls belong to me, remember? I can do anything I want to them.” She stood sideways relative to Jim, holding the bat at her shoulder like she was going to swing for the fences. “And, right now, I want to shatter them like vases.”
With no further warning, she swung the bat with all her might. She swung it more like a golf club than a baseball bat to ensure that the solid wood of the barrel crushed whatever was left of his plums against his underside. She had clearly practiced the maneuver before, because she swung her hips and created drive using her legs with practiced precision. The bat whipped through the air with a terrifying whoosh.
When the wooden barrel connected with the swollen mess between Jim’s legs, it was devastating. Two balls, one catastrophic strike.
The *splat* sound of everything slapping together hung in the air as all the overworked nerve endings in his shattered marbles fired off even more agonized signals to the rest of his body. Nicole watched Jim’s face, fingers still furiously rubbing her clit, as he appeared to experience a full system reboot. At first, the only part of him that seemed to process the destruction was his eyes. They bugged out of his head, shocked by just how badly he was hurting, while the rest of him was temporarily frozen in place.
Then, a second or two later, his body was rocked by a seismic shockwave of pain that was somehow even worse than anything he had just experienced. He opened his mouth to scream but found himself unable to make a sound; Amber’s bat had violently ripped the oxygen from his lungs. He suffered silently, writhing and thrashing about as best he could while tied down in the restraints and fighting a losing battle to cling to consciousness.
While Jim struggled to moan in agony, Nicole moaned in pleasure as her fingers worked away and she enjoyed the supreme display of female dominance before her. Her legs began quivering ever so slightly as she approached an orgasm.
“He looks so pretty when he breaks.”
Finally, a sound came out of Jim. Every muscle in his body was violently and involuntarily contracted, fighting hard to go nowhere in particular. In addition to being completely debilitating and an undeniable sign that Amber had rocked every corner of his world, it also made it exceedingly difficult for him to breathe because it felt like every girl in the BIA was simultaneously standing on top of his lungs. As a result, when he tried to inhale, he found that he could hardly breathe at all. And when he could suck down some oxygen, it came with a loud, horrifying raspy sound. A sound that made both girls giggle.
“What the hell was that, ball bitch? Are you trying to summon Cthulhu?”
Amber leaned on the baseball bat like a makeshift cane as she looked down at Jim’s spasming form with an amused and satisfied smirk.
“That’s the sound of a man realizing the full extent of his weakness and inferiority.”
Nicole stood up off the ground, temporarily pausing the rhythmic rubbing of her fingers to sit on Jim’s back.
“Would you be a dear, Amber, and do another one? I want to ride the bull this time.” Once positioned on Jim’s back, she placed one hand between her legs, directly over her clit, and the other on the back of Jim’s neck – partly for balance, partly to feel his every quiver and shake as he rocked in pain.
“Of course! I’ll make this one extra nasty so you can really enjoy it.”
If Jim were capable of conscious thought at that moment, he probably would’ve wondered what she meant by “extra nasty.” After her first swing of the bat, he might as well have renamed his testicles Hiroshima and Nagasaki because it felt like she had dropped nuclear bombs on them. He wasn’t capable of conscious thought, though. It was all he could do to fight losing battles to suck down oxygen and stay conscious.
Amber reassumed her swinging position with the bat, going through the motions slowly to line up her swing.
“For you to be properly prepared for tomorrow’s mixer, I need you to be genuinely scared walking around with those things swinging around down there.” She gently tapped the bruised underside of his scrotum with the tip of the bat to accentuate her point.
“Of course, we could’ve just talked about how each one of them is filled with many, many nerve endings. More nerve endings than seems appropriate for them to have. And we could’ve just talked about how all of those nerve endings are wired straight into your digestive system, meaning you feel physically sick whenever they get hurt. But after talking with your boss, we felt it would be more effective if we showed you.”
With that, Amber swung the bat once again with the control and power of a pro golfer swinging their driver.
The heavy wooden barrel of the bat reconnected with Jim’s underside with vicious precision and an ominous *splat*. It was a deep, brutal hammer blow driving everything upwards, to the point that he was momentarily lifted airborne even within the restraints. It felt like the bat went straight through whatever shattered remains were left from his testicles and split his pelvis wide open.
For a few seconds, it was as if Jim had been possessed by the devil after descending through many levels of hellacious testicular torment. White fire exploded behind his eyes. His scream ripped out, raw and guttural, like a man possessed, shredding his throat. His body jackknifed violently against the unyielding ropes, shoulders and hips screaming in protest as his body was flooded with adrenaline that it could do nothing with. He thrashed wildly, uselessly, his entire body snapped taut against the ropes, and his spine arched impossibly around Nicole’s weight.
On his back, Nicole also spasmed as if she were possessed, but in contrast to Jim’s pained convulsions underneath her, her spasms came from a place of pleasure. She threw her head back and rubbed her clit furiously, welcoming the oncoming orgasm and moaning in pleasure as she rode out the total annihilation of the man she was currently using as a stool.
Then, suddenly, Jim fell still. Like someone flipped his “off” switch. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think beyond the nuclear firestorm of detonation where his groin used to be. It felt like his insides were pulped, liquefied, a searing mass of raw nerve endings screaming into a void. He was utterly, completely broken.
He didn’t stand a chance when she swung the bat for a third time. She swung with pure, explosive power and bad intentions. Before he had a chance to process the severity of his destruction, his vision went black, and he mercifully slipped unconscious.
He came to, several minutes later, with a startle. For one brief, beautiful moment, he didn’t realize where he was. He didn’t remember the overwhelming devastation that had caused him to pass out in the first place.
Then, in an instant, it all came rushing back. He felt the rush of agony pulsating out from his midsection and spreading throughout his entire body. He started to double over, folding in half involuntarily to protect his crotch, only to find he was once again tied down. Now, though, he was tied in a sitting position to a wooden chair, with his legs spread and his arms trapped behind his back.
Jim looked around, trying his best to see through the tears in his eyes. Much to his surprise, he saw that Nicole and Amber had been joined by Taylor and another woman he didn’t recognize, and all four women were sitting in a circle around him. And, for some reason, they were all completely naked.
A sudden rush of pain in his nutsack caused him to look down. He realized Amber’s feet were between his legs, using his swollen scrotum as a footstool. She wasn’t pressing down particularly hard, but after everything he had been through earlier, just the weight of her feet and lower legs was more than debilitating. He wheezed as she fluttered her feet and the air was forced from his lungs.
“Oh, good, you’re awake! Now the briefing can begin.”
“If you thought that was bad, you haven’t seen anything yet!”