Mr. Rump murders some young buggers

mm, group, old and young, college, cabin, gay, strangling, necrophilia, ballcrush

Mr. Rump was enjoying his retirement days fishing on the Giant Lake. He had a new hobby though.

Multitude of college kids were coming to secluded cabins to spend their weekends. They drunk, swam, drove boats, listened to loud music and, of course, had sex. Mr. Rump's new-found hobby was to punish these young men and women for their lewd behaviour with undignifying deaths. Mr. Rump wasn't against the sex, he wasn't some cheap horror movie villain. He was sentencing them to death for being young, loud, drunk and disrespectful to the old ways. Well, actually he wanted to crush some young men's nuts and fuck some dead girls. Did his reasons really needed to be respectable? Mr. Rump deserved to have the retirement he wanted.

\*

The sun was high and scorching. Clint, Owen, Rich and Ethan had stopped their car near an ancient gas station. They were college students, athletic and confident, sure that the world belonged to them. They wore tight shirts that hugged their muscles. At the moment the other three waited while Owen finished putting some items they had purchased into the trunk of the car. Especially short shorts accentuated Owen's fit bottom, as he was bending down into the trunk. A sudden voice startled him so much that he almost bumped his head at the car's roof.

"Beware! Giant Lake is not the place for careless young bucks!"

The guys turned their heads. Just few steps behind the car there was an older balding man, a bit disheveled and unremarkable, like many locals they had seen on the road to the Giant Lake. He had appeared as if from nowhere.

Owen wanted to reply with a witty response. To show the old guy his place. Or maybe he should just punch this elderly fellow out. He could do it without a difficulty, or so he thought. When he met the older man's eyes, he froze and did neither. Older man's eyes were livelier than he expected. There was something about these eyes so dark and so dangerous that is robbed the young man of all his vigour.

"Many had come here, but not everyone will come back!" the fellow continued talking. "Turn back while you can!"

For a second, there was a moment complete quiet.

"What the fuck did you say!" Clint broke the silence.

Clint was the biggest of the group, a muscle-bound young man, whose patchy black beard accentuated his square jaw. Rich, a blonde guy next to him, started laughing.

"Come on, old fart is just pulling your leg!"

The other guys too found it hilarious.

"Oh shit, we're in a slasher movie!"

"Warning, warning!"

"This is not a way to ask someone out!"

"Suck my dick, old-timer!"

They were shaking with laughter. When they stopped, the old man was gone. The four college guys proceeded with their trip, exchaning opinions about idiocy of the local population.

\*

It didn't take Mr. Rump much effort to find the cabin, where the college kids intended to spend their weekend. The four guys were young, sporty and handsome. Stupid kids. He wasn't actually old, just retired. And if Mr. Rump knew anything about young men, then it was the fact that the car had delivered eight fresh testicles for him to destroy. "Busting a nut" soon will have a different meaning for every person involved. At the gas station, Mr. Rump had given the kids a fair warning, and it was only their fault they didn't listen.

The wooden cabin was quite large. It was built close to the lake, with a plank deck covering the area at the lakeside. It had two floors. Not a long time ago, the cabin had been rebuilt by expanding it and adding a sliding glass door towards the lake.

"No privacy at all," Mr. Rump mumbled, overseeing the cabin from the thicket.

On the other side of the cabin there was the original wooden entrance door. There were small square windows of old design on most walls. A familiar car was parked on a gravel road that lead to the entrance. Conveniently, the trees and bushes covered the surroundings.

By horror movie standarts Mr. Rump would be a terrible villain. He didn't have a scary mask or a mighty chainsaw - just a piece of sturdy rope. Besides that, he had to rely on his wits and patience. He couldn't fight four guys at once. Obviously, the first and likely the second guy had to be taken out stealthily. Patience was the key here.

Loud music already blasted from the cabin. Mr. Rump sneaked forward and peeked inside. The college whippersnappers were there, beers in hand. There was a pool table on the first floor and a powerful audio system. Mr. Rump decided to turn that thing off at the first chance. Meanwhile, he observed and listened as much he could hear.

"Evelyn swallows the cock whole and then licks my balls!" said the big guy with patchy beard.

"Yea? I got to try her out when she gets drunk tonight," guy in short shorts replied.

"Fuck you!"

"Hey, Ethan, you ever fucked your girl?"

"Who, Becca?" asked a lad in glasses.

"No, your mom!"

The guys laughed.

"Fuck you, Owen!"

Ethan sounded offended. Snarky guy in shorts, who's name apparently was Owen, laughed even more.

"I would fuck Ethan's mom. She's quite hot for a milf," said a fourth guy. "Sink my tongue into that pussy, give it a licking so good, she would lose her mind."

"I would never put my mouth there," it was the big guy again. "Not a man's job."

"Really? She can suck you like a vacuum, and you don't even reward her for that?"

"If she wants me to lick her pussy, she can fuck off! Unlike Rich, I'm a real man."

"Your views are boorish and outdated, Clint, my manly friend!" Rich theatrically declared. "A real gentleman always pleases the lady, and ladies appreciate that highly. You can trust me as the cunnilingus expert."

"Fuck that!"

"Talking about bitches, when they be here?"

"Sam called, they will be here in five hours."

"Five hours?" Clint roared. "What the fuck is wrong with them?"

"Clint needs mommy now?"

"What did you say?"

Clint jumped on Owen and a fight started. Mr. Rump observed through one of the small windows. He had taken a good look at the brats he intended to ruin tonight. The biggest guy with facial hair and too much testoterone was Clint, the snarker who really liked to show leg was Owen, hesitant guy with glasses was Ethan, and then there was Rich, blonde self-proclaimed cunnilingus expert. Besides, Ethan allegedly had a hot mom, and their girlfriends were arriving in five hours. Mr. Rump had this much time to finish off them all undistrubed.

Meanwhile fists were flying inside the cabin. Rich jumped between Clint and Owen and tried to separate them.

Ethan stayed out of it. For a second he watched in confusion, then quietly slid the glass door open and backed out of the cabin. Mr. Rump appreciated Ethan's move. Not only that was the smartest option during a fight, but also it gave Mr. Rump an opportunity to turn unsuspecting guy into his first victim.

The young man made a couple steps backwards and suddenly felt a rope thrown around his neck. As he kicked his legs, he was dragged away from the cabin, until thick bushes hid it from his view. The fighting inside the cabin, accompanied by loud music, concealed all sounds. The rope contracted around Ethan's neck, cutting his lungs access to air. Last thing he heard was an older voice in his ear.

"Thanks, boyo!"

Mr. Rump held the rope tight for couple minutes more, just to make sure the kid was dead. Ethan's body lay on top of him, with back on his strangler's chest. He even had his glasses still on. Mr. Rump took a deep breath.

He couldn't believe how lucky he was to pick off Ethan. He expected to be waiting for the right moment forever. The youngster was handsome and athletic. His hair brushed against Mr. Rump's rugged face. He smelled nice too. Mr. Rump didn't bother changing the position, he was fine with lifeless college kid laying over him. He run his hands over Ethan's chest, then under his black t-shirt. Mr. Rump caressed the strangled kid's belly and chest, feeling the smooth, hairless skin, then reached lower. First he cupped Ethan's crotch, feeling the soft bump of guy's genitals through the jeans. This was what he was after. Mr. Rump slid both hands under the belt loop. Ethan was shaved under there too. First Mr. Rump touched the dead young man's semi-hard dick, then his soft ballsack under it. Mr. Rump simply fondled the nuts, feeling them from all sides.

"Shaved clean and smooth," he mumbled to himself. "I just love young people these days."

What young guys with nicely shaved bodies needed was an intense session of ball massage. Mr. Rump dug his stumpy fingers into Ethan's balls. The dead kid didn't need them anymore anyway. Testicles tried to hold against the pressure, but after applying some force they simultaneously popped. Mr. Rump kneaded the Ethan's sack for a while.

When he was satisfied, Mr. Rump pushed Ethan's body off him and got up. He already was aroused. The crushing of the first set of young nuts felt amazing. He had three more pairs of balls to crush.

Meanwhile the fight in the cabin had ended. Two guys lumbered out and headed towards the lake. Owen and Clint had beer bottles in their hands. It looked like that after a short fight they had made peace, and now celebrated with the help of more beer.

"Come on bro, I'm sorry. Even if you're sometimes an asshole."

"Yea, yea, you're a bit of an asshole too, bro."

Both young men walked towards the deck where they sat down with a view to the lake and kept swearing the eternal loyalty to each other. Mr. Rump watched with a disapproval. None of them had gone for the other's balls. Especially Owen with his short shorts offered a delicious punching target. Nevertheless, both college brats seemed unharmed. The third one was still inside.

Mr. Rump carefully peeped into the cabin. Rich sat on a chair, holding a beer can at his forhead. His blonde hair was ruffled. Mr. Rump surmised that Rich ended a bit roughed up during his attempts to reconcile the two hotheads. Now he was throwing furious looks at them through the glass door.

There was no need to waste time. While Clint and Owen had their backs turned towards the cabin, it was the time to strike. This time Mr. Rump chose the entrance door. He quickly stepped around the corner and entered the cabin. Rich noticed his quiet steps at the last moment. A punch to his cheek sent him backwards, and he landed on his back, knocking the chair down.

Mr. Rump jumped on top of him and grabbed the youngster by the neck. He followed it with a strong knee to Rich's crotch. One kick, then another one, then another one mashed cunnilingus expert's balls. Waves of pain robbed him of any opportunity to resist. Mr. Rump's thumbs sunk into his's throat, shutting his air supply. Rich felt older man's weight on him, his thick thumbs crushing his air-pipe and repeated knee kicks to his crotch. Last thing young guy felt as he died was another Mr. Rump's knee cracking his nuts for real. Mr. Rump delivered some more kicks to kid's already flattened testicles, only then he released his neck.

He slid his hand inside the guy's pants to check on his nuts. His fingers examined the smooth sack, and found out that his kicks had collapsed both of Rich's testicles.

"Heh, no more pussy for you, kid," Mr. Rump murmured.

He wanted to quickly drag the body out, but noticed that Clint and Owen were getting up from the deck. Mr. Rump cursed and hurried out of the door again. Luckily, the guys didn't see him. At first they stopped with stupefied looks on their faces. Then they rushed into the cabin, leaving the sliding door open.

"Rich! What the fuck!"

"Did Ethan do this?"

Mr. Rump felt that there was no reason to hide anymore. The gloves were off. He got around the cabin and walked through the open sliding door from the lake's side. Clint and Owen were leaning over their friend's body, without noticing Mr. Rump calmly appearing behind them. Both were big and strong young men, especially Clint.

"Ethan strangled him!"

"Actually, that was me," explained Mr. Rump.

In the same breath he sunk his fingers into Clint's bulge from behind. The big lad let out a terrifying scream. Owen jumped from surprise and tripped over Rich's corpse.

Clint's bulge was quite a handful. Getting a good grip through the fabric of the pants wasn't easy, and Mr. Rump realized that he had only one of young man's nuts in his hand. Mr. Rump dug both thumbs into the big guy's testicle. Vice-like grip crushed Clint's left nut, reducing the muscle-bound hunk to a crying pile of misery in less than three seconds.

Owen, pale from horror, dashed for the exit. Mr. Rump, feeling the frenzy of a predator boiling inside, ran after him. Young man got outside, made it to the car, when Mr. Rump rammed into him, and pressed the victim to the side of the vehicle. The kid looked at his older attacker with widened eyes. He should be capable to defend himself, but just like at the gas station, something robbed him of all his vigour.

"Listen, man..." he tried to reason.

"What is it, son?" Mr. Rump asked.

He was maintaining an eye contact with petrified college kid. Meanwhile his hand was moving closer to Owen's crotch. The youngster's short pants offered couple of ways to annihilate his gonads. Both men stood so close that their chests touched, Mr. Rump especially enjoyed the firmness of Owen's young, musclular body. The college guy tried talk himself out of the situation.

"Chill, man!" his voice trembled. "I'm a lover, not a fighter!"

"That's ironic way to put it..."

Mr. Rump's hand slid up through the leg of Owen's short shorts. He squeezed both testicles in an unescapable grip. Owen responded with a whimper. The grip on his balls was tight and hot. Next second the hand yanked his precios nuts away from his body. A hight pitched "Agh!" escaped Owen's throat. Mr. Rump had stretched young man's sack almost to his knees, with one powerful pull. Testicle cords had either snapped or stretched to the limit. Owen rolled his eyes and went limp, as if it was the life force itself that had been ripped out of his body.

"Ironic indeed," Mr. Rump muttered.

He let the guy slide down to the ground. He released the sack, letting it land between it's owner's legs. Owen seemed passed out. Was one sack-extending yank sufficient to kill the young buck? From the leg of his short pants, a freakishly long scrotum lay on the gravel covered ground. Two bumps showed where the nuts were.

Mr. Rump stomped his foot down, flattening the dead guys testicles. Then he ground his heel, completely pulverizing them into the gravel. He stepped back and admired his work. Whatever used to be in snarky guy's sack, now was compeltely fragmented between the gravel stones. Owen didn't move - a sign that he was dead and gone. Mr. Rump had a hard-on for some time now. Also, he felt tired.

There was one college guy left unfinished. His moans were heard through the thumping music. Clint, the burly hothead, was still alive. When Mr. Rump stepped into the cabin, he was laying in fetal position. The young guy was too busy cradling his nuts, of which only one was damaged, to notice the rope Mr. Rump wrapped around his thick neck. When he started to clumsily resist, it was too late. Clint was a strong guy, but it only took Mr. Rump a couple of minutes to strangle him. Afterwards Mr. Rump took a breether.

All this running around and neck squeezing made aging man tired and apathetic. He fought the feeling. He had just murdered four young, strong college kids, and it had taken its toll. He hated the feeling of not being young.

It was the music that really ground Mr. Rump's gears. He walked to the audio system's control panel and finally turned it off. Almost deafening silence set in. That was better. The young generation really undervalued the beauty of silence.

Mr. Rump fidgeted with the sound system for a moment and classic rock started flowing through the loudspeakers. That was even better. A jolt of energy run through Mr. Rump's body. He checked the watch - there was plenty of time to spend with Clint.

Mr. Rump rolled the dead guy on the back. First, he stripped Clint from the waist down. Big guy had big nuts. They rested on top of the thick thighs, the right side of his ballsack with the intact testicle bulged nice and round. The left side contained the crushed nut. It felt that the misshapen ball in its ruptured state had increased in volume. Soft, meaty cock rested on top of the lopsided sack.

Clint's legs and crotch was covered in short, black hair that made his strong thighs look even more shapely. Mr. Rump cut the shirt off, completely baring the dead guy's body. Now Clint was naked, strangled and laying peacfully on the cabin's floor next to the pool table. His washboard abs and meaty chest was covered by a symmetrical layer of short, dark hair.

"I reckon you have worked hard to get in this shape, kid," Mr. Rump said.

Clint's pecs were amazing. They bumped upwards like two soft hills, roundness accentuated by the chest hair. They were not moving, as there was no breath in owner's lungs. The nipples were pink, hairless and rather large.

"You mind if I lay down too?"

Mr. Rump undressed. He wanted to be naked, just like Clint, to fully enjoy the body of the hunky young man. Mr. Rump placed himself on top of the body, his face over Clint's chest, his crotch over Clint's crotch, his thighs over Clint's thighs. Their balls were tenderly touching, his hard cock pushing on strangled guy's soft dick. Following the rhythm of music, Mr. Rump moved his body back and forth, rubbing his midriff over the dead guy below. Clint's lifeless pecs - these muscular, round, firm man-tits - were at the center of his attention. Mr. Rump licked them and sucked them. Their springy flesh was escaping his mouth and bouncing back to their original shape, and he kept sucking them in again. His dick was getting harder, as it was rubbing into dead youngster's half-ruined nutsack.

Mr. Rump couldn't stop. He moved his body faster and faster, until suddenly he erupted, shooting a large amount of jizz onto Clint's crotch. Sticky load of cum glued both men's bodies together. It dripped down the younger man's sack and thighs. Mr. Rump remained still for a while, with his mouth over one of Clint's man-tits, feeling his own breath bouncing back at him from the dead guy's chest.

"Well, that goes against my principles," he finally whispered. "I have already cum. But, you, Clint, my boy, still have some nuts left."

Clint stared into the air with unfocused eyes. Mr. Rump got off the dead hunk and kneeled to his side. After shooting the load, his dick had softened, but he felt it wasn't done yet. Clint was hot in death, even hotter with Mr. Rump's cum all over his dick and balls. Mr. Rump caressed Clint's muscle-bound body again. He ran his arms over the abs, pecs and biceps, and soon started to feel that he was getting aroused once more.

With his right hand Mr. Rump gabbed Clint's balls. His left massaged the dead guy's pecs, he just couldn't get enough of them. His dick rested over Clint's abs, and slow thrusts provided a gentle stimulation.

Fingers of Mr. Rump's right hand dug into Clint's half-destroyed left nut. The job here was to simply finish what was once started. The dead nut didn't offer much resistance and after some crushing turned into a formless blob. That felt amazing.

Mr. Rump's right hand moved to hunky lad's remaining testicle. When it was fully in Mr. Rump's grip, he pressed his fingers together, digging into the chunky ball. It was stubbornly resisting. Mr. Rump stopped caressing Clint's lifeless pecs. His left hand remained dug into one of the guy's man-tits, while the other compressed the unyielding young testicle, last one of the original college eight.

Mr. Rump tensed all his muscles, squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated. The moment of machine-like pressure lasted for what felt like forever, but suddenly the remaining nut ruptured. He could swear he even heard a faint popping sound. Mr. Rump grabbed a full hand of Clint's sack, kneading further what remained of its contents. As he mashed and squashed the chunky pulp inside the sticky sack, he reached the culmination of pleasure.

Mr. Rump shot another load of cum over hot dead guy's hairy chest. That was a moment of pure bliss. He loudly exhaled and remained motionless for a while. He released strangled college kid's nutsack.

"Thank you, Clint. You really know how to bring joy," Mr. Rump mumbled.

Clint lay still, with a sticky layer of Mr. Rump's cum caked into his chest, abs and crotch hair. Mr. Rump was done with these young men. The day was not over though. There were four young girls coming to the cabin, assuming to be met by their boyfriends.

What happened next:

https://www.reddit.com/r/GuroErotica/comments/178ery3/mr\_rump\_murders\_some\_kittens/