Sansa Stark's Testicle Treachery

Author's note: This is a story I originally posted to r/BallbustingStories and it had a heavy emphasis on pussy envy. This revised version contains way more pussy envy. Enjoy! All characters are at least 18 years old.

Sansa Stark and Jon Snow stood before Daenerys Targaryen naked in order to be sure they did not conceal a weapon. The three of them were in the Great Hall of Winterfell, discussing the future of the North and the Seven Kingdoms.

Sansa feigned shyness, standing with her shapely legs crossed. Jon stood proud, subtly leaning his hips forward to emphasize his immense manhood. He was confidant his girthy male pride would impress the Targaryen Queen.

As Jon spoke of unity and honor, Sansa's eyes narrowed with a mischievous glint. Her legs uncrossed. Jon noticed this in the corner of his eye. His face turned to Sansa, his male instinct compelling him to gaze at her beautiful womanhood. His words fumbled as it occurred to him how Sansa's smooth, curvaceous genitalia appeared as a master-crafted sculpture, in great contrast to the ungainly monstrous creature hanging between his legs.

Interrupting Jon's stuttering, Sansa said, "My Queen, this bastard is far too weak and pathetic to lead the North."

Jon was shocked as she had never voiced any opposition to his rule or insulted him in such an egregious way. "Sansa, what-"

Sansa said, "Choose me to lead the North, and I will save it from this fool's childish sense of honor."

Jon's bewilderment began to give way to rage. "Sansa! you must-"

Daenerys said, "Why you over him?"

Sansa said, "I share none of the weakness of his mind and body, and he shares none of my cunning. Allow me to demonstrate these truths in combat with him right now."

Daenerys leaned forward in her seat. "By all means"

Jon said, "Sansa, don't make me hurt you." Jon assumed a fighting stance. "You are half my size and you know nothing of combat."

A devilish smile formed at the corners of Sansa's mouth. She stepped in front of Jon. Her hips swayed from side to side. His eyes could not help but follow her womanhood left and right. His fighting stance softened.

Sansa said, "I know you have these."

With a swift movement, she lunged forward, her hand finding its mark on Jon's big unsuspecting testicles. Her hand imprisoned his large male fruits with a strength that even she didn't know she possessed.

Jon gasped in pain and shock. She smirked at him as his face conveyed to her the physical and emotional torture of her betrayal. Her joy only further agonized and infuriated him. His hands reflexively latched onto her squeezing hand. He could not believe how unbearable the pain his testicles now felt.

Sansa tugged upward on Jon's testicles, forcing him to stay on his toes. The stabbing pain was so agonizing to his sensitive fruit that it felt as though the great Knight, Brienne of Tarth, was tugging on them. A squeak shot out of his mouth. His breaths came in rapid gasps. Despite the mind-shattering pain of his testicles, Jon was fully aware of how pathetic he now looked, and how pathetic he truly was, along with how quick and easy a task this was for Sansa.

It occurred to him that his countless hours of combat training, his bulging male muscles, all of it was useless because of the glaring, easily accessible male weakness between his legs. He felt emasculated that the very symbol of his manhood is what made him a pathetically vulnerable creature.

Not only that, the one revealing this, the one easily dominating his entire being with one hand, is his dainty little half-sister, the most feminine girl he'd ever met, and this is all happening in front of the woman he had fallen in love with, Daenerys Targaryen. The many layers of mental emasculation tortured Jon as much as his squeezed testicles.

Jon could feel his muscles weakening, as if Sansa was wringing out the male strength from his manhood. His eyes scanned Sansa's immaculate body for any vulnerability. His eyes focused on her womanhood, scowling at it with impotent rage, envious of it for being completely free of his weakness.

Sansa cackled and wiggled her womanhood at him. "Sorry Snow, I don't have your male curse."

Jon groaned at the unfairness of it all, eliciting many giggles from Sansa.

Hearing Jon's cries, Arya rushed from her bath straight to her half-brother's aid. She was shocked to see that not only was Sansa responsible, but that she was effortlessly dominating Jon simply by squeezing his male fruit. Arya had known testicles were sensitive, but this seemed ridiculous.

Desperate for a distraction from his agony, Jon could not stop himself from ogling Arya's marvelous womanhood. He pathetically whimpered at her superior genitalia, "Sansa betrayed me. Please help."

Arya had never been so disappointed in her half-brother, both by his desperation, and by his obvious sexual desire for her. "It's just Sansa! Fight back!"

Jon was in too much misery to think of his own tactic, she he used Sansa's. His arm lunged forward like a wet noodle. His hand gripped her genitalia. Jon was barely able to hold on to it partly because of his lost strength, and partly because it was naturally far harder to grip than his own genitalia. Jon squeezed her womanhood as hard as he could.

Sansa smirked. "Squeeze harder, Jon, so maybe I could enjoy it. "

This further demoralized Jon. He groaned and lost his grip. His hands dangled at his sides.

Sansa said, "These are so much easier to hold on to. Let me show you."

Sansa mercilessly tugged down on Jon's testicles, forcing him to bend his knees and shriek. She then quickly yanked up on his devasted male fruit, back to standing on his toes. Jon howled at the ceiling. The stabbing and then burning pain was beyond what he thought was possible.

Arya took Jon by his chin. She angled his face to hers and said, "All it takes for you to turn into a helpless baby is for a girl to grab your plums? You men truly are pathetic creatures."

Tears rolled down Jon's cheeks. He understood the miserable reality of his sex. Arya let go of his chin, then walked away. Sansa giggled at the fact that Jon could not help but stare at Arya's sweet cheeks as she walked away. She punished him by twisting and tightening her grip on his brutalized male fruit.

Sansa said "You may have been born with Stark blood, but you are not a Stark. You do not possess the cunning, the strength, or the determination that is required to lead this kingdom. And you certainly do not have the genital fortitude to match me." Her grip tightened even further, causing Jon to wince in agony.

Jon pathetically looked to Daenerys, as if she would rescue his helpless bits. Instead, she gave him a feigned expression of woe, and then giggled. Daenerys, intrigued by this display of feminine dominance, felt a lovely spark between her legs. Her purple eyes fixed on Sansa's white knuckled hand with Jon's big testicles bulging between her fingers. "By all means, continue your demonstration."

Sansa smiled coldly, her fingers digging deeper into Jon's already painful orbs. "As you can see," she continued, her voice steady despite the strain on her hand, "I am not afraid to use my strengths, whether they be my wits or my physical prowess. And unlike you, Snow," she said, twisting his balls hard, "I do not have the pathetic weaknesses that men have."

Jon winced, struggling not to cry out in agony. "Sansa!" he gasped, his face reddening.

Daenerys stood from her seat, then stepped over to them. She reached out and grabbed a fistful of Jon's hair, tugging his head down below her waist. "You are nothing but a man, Jon Snow," she hissed, "and as such, you will always be at the mercy of your base desires and your fragile plums."

With a cruel laugh, she guided his face under her dress, onto her pussy, jerking his hair to rub his lips on her warm womanhood. "This," she growled, "is what power and superiority is made of."

As Jon struggled to breathe, Sansa squeezed his testicles far harder than before. With a triumphant grin, she watched as Jon's body shook and he let out a hoarse cry of pain and submission. "And this," she said, her hand squeezing and twisting, "is what weakness is made of."

The air in the Great Hall of Winterfell seemed to crackle with tension and power as Daenerys continued to get the most of Jon, her hips thrusting rhythmically against his handsome face. It was a display of dominance and control that was both mesmerizing and humiliating. And as her pleasure reached its peak, Jon helplessly accepted the pain and the shame. Even he now knew the tragic weakness of his sex could never be overcome. Daenerys shoved Jon's head back like a toy she'd grown tired of.

It became clear to all of them that the future of the North, along with the rest of Westeros, was female.

Jon lay on the floor in a miserable daze, his limp limbs splayed. His manhood kept swelling on the floor, aching in defeat. Arya found him still in this position hours later. She'd heard that Sansa would send him back to the Wall, where there would be no women to satisfy what Arya knew was unbearable male desire.

She gazed upon him, finding something oddly enticing in his defeated masculinity. She kicked between his legs, her little foot sinking deep into his swollen plums. His testicles reached a new level of pain. His body shook as crackles escaped his throat.

Now that Arya had taken out her frustration on in his battered fruit, she felt nothing for him but love and pity. She got on her knees and kissed Jon's member until it hardened. She then took it inside her and humped it to completion.

"Don't worry, Jon. I'm going to rescue you and your pathetic plums."