The Shadow Over the Balls of Quimswyk

*Contains: >!spooky vibes, rape threat, castration threat, sph!<*

*All characters aged 18+.*

I arrived in the maligned and rumor-shadowed town of Quimswyk late in the afternoon of a dour, sodden autumn day. I tried to keep the mud off my dress as well as I could, but my mind dwelt elsewhere. Much had been muttered to me about this oblique little place despite it not appearing on any map of repute I could find. As strange as the rumors were, I only decided to investigate the place after I had stumbled upon Quimswyk in my studies of the *Testinomicon* back at Miskatonic University. It was a queer book, transliterated multiple times from an originally Arabic script full of ominous prophecies about so-called ‘Old Ones’. One of them was a primeval being that the Testinomicon called “Tulzsha”.

How an archaic grimoire could reference a small town on the coast of Maine, I do not know. But that was precisely why I ventured a visit. Yet as much as I had heard about Quimswyk, the only bit of advice that had stuck with me was that of a chesty blonde maidservant when she told me the following:

“Oh, good madam, you mustn’t go there, I beg you! Its ill repute does not do the place justice. It is a seedy, decrepit town filled to the brim with lecherous men. They think little of outsiders but will gladly stick their slimy co-”

That was as far as she had gotten before her brother pulled her inside, muttering darkly that his sister needed to milk the cows – yet I saw no cattle anywhere, nor fields for them to graze if there were. It was rather curious.

But when I stepped off the bus and breathed in the foul, musky odor of Quimswyk, beheld its crumbling, crooked huts that seemed more like mushrooms sprouting from the ground, I was determined to heed the busty little maiden’s warning.

As such, when a man’s voice rang out behind me, saying, “Julia Hayes? I got your wire-” I immediately turned and smashed a solid kick into his nethers. I had picked out my lace-up wellies specifically for their fearsome pointed tip, so any hit was guaranteed to ruin a man’s week. Many of the more amorously inclined students at Miskatonic and the mangled testes I left them could testify to that.

“Guwah! My nards!” he retched. The man was no popinjay, it had to be said: balding, with a flat nose and beady eyes, he squinted in that familiar look of pain, humiliation and offended shock all men adopted when I juiced their plums. Yet his knackers had been surprisingly large and heavy, and his implement remarkably long and thick, I could tell from my kick even through the hard leather of my boot. Kick enough boys in the junk and you start to recognize the telltale shapes of their eggs and sausage against your shoe. This one had probably the largest cock I ever had the good fortune to kick - it was just a shame such a well-hung man came with such a disquieting face. “Just wanted to confirm your reservation at the Geldman Hotel… gods, I think you broke them!”

He held up a stained calling card for said lodging. I took it quickly and stuffed it down my cleavage. “I see. Thank you, Mister…?”

“Carr! Fuck, Randolph Carr!” he sputtered while dry-heaving. Had I cracked one of his oysters with my kick? Or was he just unfamiliar with feeling a woman exert her power over his genitals?

“Thank you, Mister Carr. Some advice: you might wish to ice down your unmentionables. You look rather unbecoming, clutching your cobs like that.” I walked off, leaving Randolph to hurl impotent insults after me before more retching made it impossible.

As I made my way through town, I couldn’t help but marvel at the repulsiveness of this place. Tall and narrow residences pressed in on each other, looming over dark streets and passers-by like hunchbacks over an innocent maiden. Though unlike hunchbacks, they didn't acquire their decrepit form from their lecherous thoughts but from sinking foundations and rotting beams.

Drooling fishmongers chopped greening cod while staring at me from their stalls, discarding the entrails by simply sweeping them into the street. Delivery boys with the vacant expression of horny beasts flagrantly ogled my chest and butt while drooling into their wispy beards.

Yet as colorful as these randy men were, they all brought the rumor of the so-called ‘Quimswyk gait’ to the forefront of my mind. Each of them called humongous bulges their own, clearly outlined in their crotches, that caused the men here to walk with an unmistakable sway. Their long, fat cocks and bulging, round balls pressing against the stained fabric of their pants swung back and forth like a pendulum, causing the men to shift with each step they took. It was exceedingly hard not to stare at the twitching contours and imagine the impressive members I could find there. Maybe Randolph Carr had several, equally well-hung cousins across town.

I ignored the fat cocks and plump balls all around me as much as I could until I got to my hotel. Once, it must have been a dignified hotel, now it was a dump - ugly, dirty, with the plaster cracking in many places. The sign reading ‘Geldman Hotel’ was so faded, I could barely make it out. I headed inside anyway.

Or I would have, if two slimy-looking bellboys didn't grab my shoulders. “Hey there, sweetheart. Looking to get your turkey stuffed? You can just stay in my quarters, I got all the cream a stray pussy like you might want right here,” one of them shouted while grabbing his crotch.

“Ehehe, smokin’ gal like you, I got piping hot cream right on tap, that's for sure,” the other said. “Just put your mouth on the spigot.”

“No, thank you, I’m not in the habit of staying with nutless eunuchs.”

“Wha- nutless? Babe, I got all the nuts you can chok- EURGH!”

I rammed the front of my bag into his crotch as soon as he started talking back, the hard metal frame crunching his manhood and ego down to size. At the same time, I rapped the handle of my umbrella against the nuts of the other bellboy, making him sing soprano before he could bother me any further. I left the two ruffians behind me without further comment, though I confess I stabbed the tip of my umbrella into bellboy number two’s squishy nuts as a parting gift.

Finally, I reached the reception, manned by an elderly man in a suit and bowtie that seemed to sway slightly back and forth. A rhythmic *fwip-fwip-fwip* came from beneath the reception desk, and the stench of unwashed maleness hit me. “Hello, sir, I booked a room a few days prior under the name of Julia Hayes,” I said, wrinkling my nose.

“Ah…aaah, Miss… Hayes! We have been… expecting youuu…” he said with a strange lilt, almost like he was tasting each word. There was an uncomfortable strain to his speech, as if he was just shy of sighing with relief. “Your room has- has been prepaaared!” His eyes fluttered for a moment and I heard something wet splash, followed by the sound of a zipper. “You have been booked into room thirteen. Your key.”

He held up a rusty key engraved with the number thirteen. Something was dripping from it. I snatched it from him with narrowed eyes. “Thank you. I have no luggage with me, so tell your bellboys they can try to work their balls back down their throats instead.”

I stomped off towards my room, up a creaky flight of stairs. To my chagrin, the receptionist shouted after me. “Dinner will be served at seven. Hope to see you there, Miss Hayes…”

Something about this man really rubbed me the wrong way. Whatever was wrong with him was more disturbing than the horny, degenerate men I had met so far in this vile little place. “Ugh, what is that…?” I rubbed some of the slime clinging to my room key between two fingers, glad that I wore my gloves.

I locked the door of my room behind me. It was simple, though it hadn’t been dusted in quite a while. The only remarkable item in it was a large painting hung opposite the bed. It seemed to depict some sort of Grecian scene: a nigh naked woman wrapped in sheer silk reaching for Poseidon’s meager, but very erect, member. Or was she reaching for his fruits instead? Her hand did come from below, and his balls were rather plump, especially compared to his wiener…

“This isn't the time to appreciate the fine arts,” I muttered to myself. “I need to start looking for clues on why Quimswyk appears in the Testinomicon. But first I need a change of clothes.”

Since I felt as if the muck of this town was sticking to me like glue, I took great care to slowly unfurl myself from my dress, carefully peeling it from my skin and watching for any spots and stains. Luckily, the only ones I found were two white splotches from the stuff dripping off of the key the receptionist gave me. They were quickly drying and so should be easy to get out.

I took a moment to admire myself in a cloudy mirror. I loved how dainty and ladylike my balconette bra looked, despite the plunging cleavage it gave me. The same went for my stockings and lacy garter belt, all working together to frame the cutest pair of low-rise panties. I couldn’t help but bite my lip. Even if this town and its inhabitants were vile, I couldn’t get all the massive bulges they were packing out of my head. In my defense, being surrounded by so many turgid, merry-making members would leave no girl unfazed.

Something in the mirror caught my eye and I whirled around, just in time to see an iris widen in surprise and Poseidon’s tiny penis slide back into the painting to cover my peeping tom back up. “My eye! You’ve just won yourself a ticket to the Gelding Stakes, pervo!”

I ran out into the hall in naught but my lingerie and searched for the door to the room adjacent to mine. As I looked, one of the bellboys stomped towards me, evidently recovered from his earlier nutting. “Ooh la la, Miss Hayes, almost in the buff? That mean you will be making it up to my little buddy for what you did to him- WAAAGH!”

I didn’t hesitate and grabbed him by the shoulders and rammed my knee into his balls as far as it would go. I felt one of his nuts get trapped beneath my knee, no doubt getting crunched terribly flat. Not that I cared much.

I let him crumple down and left him clutching his bruised balls, already turning to the tall cabinet against the wall and presenting my tush to him. Notably, he had been standing in front of it. Was he trying to keep me away from it?

A candleholder on the cabinet looked strangely well-worn. I pulled it down and the cabinet swung to the side – a secret room! There was just a chair inside, sat right before a spyhole. The wall beneath it was splattered with crusty white stains. And then there was the window, half open and the naked lower half of a man was just crawling through it!

He had his pants around his ankles, so when I dove toward him, I seized the most readily available piece of him – a nutsack of titanic proportions, swaying lightly in the breeze. Each testicle was the size of a lemon, a size that required me to catch the sack between both of my palms and slam them shut to get a proper grip on it. Of course, that also put fearsome stress on my voyeur’s plums, scrunching and grinding them against each other in my hands.

“Got you by the short and curlies now!” I felt the man dangle from his balls, screaming deliriously, yet I couldn’t lean over and look to see who it was since doing so would have likely pulled me after him. What I did notice was the strain his nut cords were under, creaking and stretching from trying to not get ripped off. My peeping Tom's entire weight was quite literally hanging by two very stretched threads after all.

I squished my hands together tightly, crushing the two fat testicles in my hand so flat, bits were bubbling out at the top, and still I felt him slipping from my grasp. Damn, sweaty balls! I set my feet against the wall beneath the window, trying to pull this pervert back inside by his nuts. But then it happened: his ballsack slipped from my hands and he fell.

Cursing, I thrust my head out the window. I saw the naked bottom half of the perv stick out from a pile of hay, his nuts a long, stretched-out band of pink flesh that ended in two wonky-looking testes lying on the cobble of the alley. A short but wide carriage came trotting past, drawn by a horse. My peeping tom’s testicles were so stretched, the right one happened to fall under the reinforced wood of the wheels. The wet, squishy *Squelch!* noise made even me wince in sympathy.

His nut bore a clear pit across it when the carriage had passed. “That's my chance! I’d wager he’s too busy yammering about his dented nut instead of getting up and limping away!”

In no time at all, I had rushed downstairs, through the reception and out into the street. A few more hung men wolf-whistled after me and I admit, I found myself glowing with shame showing off my body in just some lingerie to them, but nutting a pervert who had spied on me was more important. Yet when I turned down the back alley I had seen from the window, there was no dumpstered perv with a strung-out scrotum. The peeping tom was nowhere to be seen!

Furious, I looked around to see where the voyeur had gone and spotted a derelict. He was disheveled and seemed only awake with the aid of a quart of whiskey sloshing in his hand. He was gaping at the sight of my nearly naked body. “You there! The man who fell from that window and got half of his balls run over, where did he go? Answer me!”

But he just stared at my tits, a little tent pitching in his pants. As irate as his unresponsiveness made me, his lack of any workable inches in his pants, a stark contrast to all the other men in this town, made me even more angry. How dare he show me such a pathetic little erection! I placed the tip of my boots right underneath his tiny dick and leaned forward, putting the squeeze on his balls.

“Aargh, me baws! You're crushin’ me baws!”

“Do I have your attention now, pindick?”

“Get off! Get the hell off of my balls!”

I leaned further forward, really squeezing his nuts under my boot now. They couldn’t have more than an inch of space left down there, so I figured they were slowly getting closer to breaking. “Tell you what, old-timer, if you answer all my questions, I will let you keep your balls. But if I’m unhappy with your answers… *Pop* goes the weasel, you understand? What’s your name?”

He nodded eagerly, grabbing my ankle as if that was going to stop me from pancaking his nuts. “Yuh-yeah! The name’s Zadoc Allen, now please, get offah my balls!”

I twisted my foot, enjoying the little creaking sounds his nuts made. “The naked pervo with the stretched-out nutsack. Where did he go?”

“S-Slunk away into the sewers he did! Right there,” he said and pointed towards a manhole with the cover just the slightest bit askew.

“You expect me to believe that? No way a grown man can lift a manhole with his cock out and a pitted nut!” I put all of my weight on his balls now, pushing them near their breaking point. I could feel the gonads strain not to explode into a gooey mess.

“AAARGH! I SWEAR I’M TELLIN’ TRUE! MY BAAAAWS!”

Huh, most men don’t dare lie to me when I hurt their fragile little testicles. Could Zadoc really be telling the truth? I eased the pressure off of his balls just a tiny fraction. “Who are you, anyway? You seem different from all the other men around Quimswyk. For one, instead of the impressive members I’ve seen so far, you just have a tiny button mushroom.”

“I-it’s big enough t-to get the job done,” he whimpered.

“Please, it looks smaller than my pinkie finger. That’s not getting any girl done.”

I could see him wince, either from the harsh truths about his size or from still having his balls trapped under my boot. “I… used ta be a sailor. Back when the fishin’ was good. But then the fish stoppped showin’ up, the cannery closed, and it all went ta shit. The others, they… I think they made a pact with something… it was Obed Marsh who, one night, came back from a desperate trip, talked about this woman he met out at sea. ‘cept, she didn’t sound like no woman I ever heard of… Tha’ was more than twenty years ago. She was this- this being he said had risen from the waves, an’ she promised him a big cock and plenty of fish, and all he had to do was fuck her cunt a little- YEARGH!”

I took my boot off of his balls, only to launch a kick into his nuts that scrambled them. Then I kicked his balls again, lodging my boot in his crotch and pinning his right nut between the tip and his leg. “Watch your language, tiny! A woman who has you by the balls might not appreciate you using the c-word!”

I had him shrieking incoherently, but I was used to tuning out boys while I broke them. If I was right, this Obed Marsh guy seemed to be at the center of the strangeness in this town. Maybe he had answers for me, maybe he knew about Tulzsha.

“You’re going to lead me to this Marsh character. I need to hear this from his mouth.”

“W-why would I do that?” Zadoc asked in a girly voice. I smirked.

“You either do or I render that tiny mushroom between your legs useless right here and now.” For emphasis, I pressed the tip of my boot even deeper into his nut, almost spearing it. “Your choice.”

---

Half an hour later, Zadoc was limping toward an iron-wrought gate hidden at a far corner of Quimswyk’s quays while I followed behind him, my cleavage hastily hidden underneath a Barbour jacket I had taken off a sailor with a swift kick to the nards. It fit well enough, the only problem was that it didn’t cover my legs or crotch. I looked like I had forgotten to wear pants today. Or like I was streaking.

I assumed the gate had to be a defunct arm of the sewers or possibly flood tunnels built to protect the town from harm. The irony was not lost on me.

“Please, don' make me go in there,” Zadoc pleaded while I pinched one of his testicles between my fingers.

“Fine, I'll let you go,” I said, and his face lit up with relief. “BUT,” I continued and gave his right nut a hard squeeze, “if I catch wind that you have told someone about leading me here, I will come back and pry righty out of his little sack with my fingers, capiche?”

He eagerly nodded and with a final pull on his nut to make it snap back into his body, I let Zadoc go. The iron gate shrieked when I opened it, but no one charged me from the dark, so I headed into the sewers beneath the town fearlessly.

I cannot say how long I fumbled through the dark, but it was long enough that I was resolving to finish what I had started between Zadoc’s legs when a damp, sickly light shimmer led me towards a series of concentric tunnels arranged around what once had been an overflow chamber. I noticed my boots started to stick to the floor, and the walls were stained with crusty, off-white splotches. It was a lot warmer here, and the air was thick with the stench of sea foam and semen.

“Uhh… gruh!” In front of me a man had emerged from the gloom, his pants around his ankles. With eyes as wide as dinner plates, I watched him groan and grunt as his hands pumped along a cock the length of my arm, heavy bull balls swinging back and forth as he jerked it. He had to use both of his hands and still left inches untouched.

For a moment, I could do nothing but stand there in shocked silence, watching him furiously work his meat. A fierce blush warmed my cheeks, and the same warmth quickly settled in my loins, but I knew I couldn’t stand around and enjoy the show. I was close now, I could feel it, and so was he. That was why I had no problem sneaking up behind him and slapping one hand over his mouth while the other seized his right nut.

Before he could even comprehend what was happening, I twisted my wrist, pulled his testicle toward me and then thrust my arm as low as it could go. He screamed into my hand, of course he did, all men would if such force was suddenly visited upon their most precious organs. And I did not stop there, for my hand didn’t just twist and pull his right testicle but crunched it as well. His plum was springy and firm, clearly filled to the brim with unspent sperm, so it resisted my hand rather well for such a fragile organ. But that also meant I could bring my full strength to bear on the gonad, mercilessly squeezing it while he could not hope to get away.

He thrashed around of course, but due to me twisting his ball in his sack before I started squeezing it, every move just inflicted more ball pain on him. The cord from which his nut dangled, pulled taut, must quickly be getting inflamed by the stress. “Shh, it’s okay big boy, just let me handle your big nuts for you. I can make them hurt so bad, and there is nothing you can do against that. Shh, just let it happen…”

Through the obvious pain in his weak balls, I felt him shudder. And then, just from me crunching his marbles a little, he came. Three thick spurts of white splashed against the wall and then he fainted, unable to take me nearly ripping and crushing his right nut at the same time. I let him sink to the floor.

“Heh, no matter how big their cocks or how full their eggs are, they all get humbled by a girl going for the nuts…” Sneaking further inside, I started to hear an ominous hum. It rose and fell in regular patterns, but it was too full, too sonorous to be made by some machine. Then I stumbled into the overflow chamber proper and I saw them:

Next to each entrance from the tunnels into the chamber stood a man in a purple robe, cowl drawn so deep over his face that no light reached it. And they all had holes in the front of their robes, their thick cocks thrust right through it, throbbing and sodden. Long, slow drips of precum glistened on their tips and pooled at their feet. I cursed myself for feeling my own loins tingle at the sight.

“Aa-aaaah, it seems our guest of honor has… mmh, arrived!”

“You!” From the darkness a familiar man emerged, erect cock bobbing in front of him like a spear. It was the greying receptionist of my hotel, smiling like a hyena. His size and girth were truly intimidating, he was easily the biggest of all the men here. He even decorated his absurdly large cock with a golden cap over his glans!

But with grim satisfaction I noted that one of his massive, dangling nuts had a clear-cut indentation from a carriage’s wheels. “How are your nuts?” I asked. “I gave them a good stretch, but it seems one of them got a bit crushed. Are you sure you should be showing everyone that? Your fellow men might develop a well-earned fear of what I can do to their testicles.”

He clearly didn’t like that. Angrily, he grabbed his massive cock and pumped it while shouting at me. “How dare you?! Do you even know who you’re talking to? You’re nothing but a cockchafer and a tease! I should have had my boys hold you down back in your room already…”

“You mean the bellboys that I had choking on their own balls? Tell me, did they cough a pair up, I so need a new pair of earrings. Ah, but let me address you properly, before you go accusing me of not having done my research. You’re Obed Marsh. And I think you can tell me who Tulzsha is.”

“Grr, grab her! It is high time I stuff that insolent mouth of hers!”

As one, seventeen men raised their arms to match their penises and hurried towards me. I was hopelessly outmatched, but I wouldn’t be going down without a fight! And there was one advantage I could call my own: whereas they wanted me unharmed, so that I could still serve to please their dicks, I had no such qualms about crushing those same dicks. By which I mean I went for their balls as hard as a girl could.

“Hyah!” A fast snap kick between the legs of the man closest to me squashed his nuts and deflated his grotesquely inflated cock. With a moan like he was questioning if I truly had just kicked him down there, he sank to his knees and held himself. But I had already moved on towards my next victim.

“Got you,” he said and moved to trap me in a bear hug. But I slipped to my own knees and fired off a hard uppercut into his balls. I felt my fist sink in deep into the core of his testicle, bruising it. It felt like punching a warm bag filled with cream, so heavy his nuts hung with cum.

The next guy was on me faster than I had thought possible. He grabbed my hair with a triumphant yell, even smacking his cock into my face in the process. A mistake, I couldn’t stand handsy men going for my locks! I grabbed his cock in retaliation and shoved myself through his legs, despite the pain his hand on my scalp caused me. Now his erect cock was bent backwards through his legs, straining to endure the stress I put on the hard penis. With one good pull, I yanked his cock further backwards than it was supposed to go. The fat phallus snapped and deflated, and my head was free again.

But there were simply too many. Another man grabbed me from behind, rubbing his filthy cock against my ass. Of course, I smashed the heel of my boot back into his bollocks, no doubt racking him harder than he had ever been racked before. But already, a man in front of me took his chance and groped my boobs, kneading them around. I kicked him in the sack as hard as I could, feeling something crunch under my boot. But instantly, his hands were replaced by more, squeezing and rubbing my chest and pulling my nipples. Some even grabbed my thighs, sticking their fingers down my panties and probing the depths of my pussy.

“Guh, you vile cocksuckers, I’ll break each and every single one of your balls!” I always prided myself on practicing what I preach and lodged my boot into another pair of balls. I felt a man on each side of me grab my wrists and lead my hands to their engorged cocks. For the right one, I twisted my hand in such a way that I managed to grab his nuts, giving my all to squish them like a pair of overripe fruit. The left one was luckier, he kept his balls away from my wrath so I had to settle for scratching the throbbing, purple head of his cock like I was digging for gold.

But that proved to be the end of my resistance. Hard cocks jabbing into my sides and ass, I was pulled down to the floor and I was rendered immobile. At least I pulled the guy on my right down to the floor by his nuts. Hope they hurt, pervo.

“We’ve got her, Obed! Obed, you see? We got her for you! Are you going to claim her now?” the guy hugging me and not so subtly humping my ass asked.

“Well done, Randolph, well done. I will, in just a moment. But aren’t you forgetting something? First, we must call *her* so that *she* can bless us again.”

God, I wish I had properly cracked Randolph’s walnuts when I first came to Quimswyk. I somehow felt even more repulsed knowing it was that sniveling little perv’s cock I felt sliding up and down between my cheeks. “You mean it, Obed? We will see her again? Praise! Praise Tulzsha!”

“Praise Tulzsha!” the men all intoned in unison. Even the men whose balls I had busted squeaked their joy, as much as they could.

“Who is this ‘Tulzsha’? Tell me already!” I spat towards Obed.

“Oh, don’t you worry, little Miss Hayes. You’ll meet her right away… then again, I shouldn’t be using your fake name any longer. Julia Hayes,” he snorted, “not my finest hour, giving you that name. A pale comparison to *Julia Marsh*.”

“What? What do you mean? Explain yourself!”

But Obed ignored me, pulling off the golden cap from the tip of his cock with a sucking noise that sent shudders down my spine. He regarded the cap shaped like his tip fondly, then struck it with a finger.

The literal bellend produced a dissonant, eerie tone. It filled all the horny men around me with a strange sort of reverence. They started chanting in some miscreant language unfamiliar to me. I could make out just two words they repeated over and over again: ‘Tulzsha’ and ‘R’lyeh’. I used the chance to kick another one of my captors in his frank and beans, but besides a pained grimace as he sank to the floor and his ballbag turning a bruised blue, he didn’t seem to care.

And then I looked up, and I froze. Through the thicket of cocks above me, I saw a clump of algae congeal and thicken on the ceiling. Foaming water rushed in and filled it, bubbling into a feminine shape. Kelp became her hair, coral the fiery tips of her pert tits. Her teal shame was tastefully decorated by a shock of sea foam, and the nails on her dainty feet were actually shells. I watched her descend from the ceiling by delicately stepping on the hard cocks of my captors like they were steps erected only for her.

She was raw femininity, an imperious force and I knew I had found Tulzsha.

“My dear, you are just in time to witness me spread this little whore’s hole with the gift you have given me,” Obed said and grabbed a handful of the woman’s divine ass. For some reason, the sight of that made me want to burst his plums under my foot. “Please enjoy the show while I make her scream your name in delight and horror.”

Slowly, she turned towards me. I swallowed hard. Never before in my life had I felt this way. I wanted her to see me, to praise me – and I longed for nothing more than to serve her.

I noticed her eyes study me carefully, starting at my feet. Her gaze wandered along my legs, my hips – I started blushing – tracing the contour of my waist. I cursed myself for not wearing a more charming bra, one that would have stopped my boobs from pooling on my chest like two soft puddles of marshmallow fluff. If she disliked me, if she said I wasn’t to her liking, I felt I might die on the spot.

And then I saw her smile, and everything was well. Heat rushed to my face, my breath quickened and if I was wet before, I was now positively drenched.

“Julia,” she breathed and hearing my name was enough to make me come a little.

My moans must have stirred Obed to action because I felt his rough hands push my thighs down so he could easily shove himself inside my pussy. His cock was dangling right in front of me, so long that the tip almost kissed the lips of my femininity.

“Right, so now I finally get to punish this little minx for what she did to my balls,” he said as he pushed my panties to the side, “I’ve been waiting too long to fuck her- GAAH!”

Tulzsha’s shell-studded fingers wrapped around Obed’s nutsack from behind. With a mere flex of her petite hand, his plump balls were forced to flex and distort. Rather than a man’s testicles, it looked like she was squeezing a sack full of dough.

“M-My love? Aaagh, p-please be careful with those itreallyhurts!”

“Naturally it hurts you. I have grabbed that which is every man’s weakness, your feeble, mushy testicles. All that you are as a man is resting within my palm.”

“W-Why are you doing this?” Obed squeaked. I loved the sight, wanted to frig myself stupid to it, but I did not dare look away for fear of missing any little detail of the female hand mashing the two thick gonads.

“She is my daughter. I will not suffer your disgusting male flesh defiling my own,” the goddess said. As she spoke, her fingers slowly closed in on each other, crushing his testes flat.

“Aaah! She’s my daughter, too! You birthed her from a wave after I fucked you twenty years ago! Let go of my balls, woman, now!”

Tulzsha’s hand shut tight, painfully squishing Obed’s plums to shriveled raisins. “Never dare to call her *your* daughter ever again! She is not of your weak male flesh! She is powerful, without weak testicles dangling between her legs! She is strength, she is power, she is woman. You, a weak, pathetic male, are no longer needed.”

With amazing speed, the goddess pinched just one of Obed’s nuts between two fingers. She shut them tight, tighter than anything I had ever seen. Clear as day I could see his testicle resist her two fingers with all of its fragile might. When she let go of the nut, it remained a flat disk, like a pancake.

Obed screamed, trying to fall down and pull his last remaining nut from Tulzsha’s grip. But she had already grabbed his other ball and squished it, permanently deforming it from ball-shaped to a crimped saucer.

All above me, I could watch the forest of erect dicks wilt in record time. The men winced in sympathy pain for Obed and held their balls. I, on the other hand, was gushing at the sight of my father – no, of my sire getting his sperm tanks squeezed flat.

When Tulzsha let go of Obed’s testicle, he crashed to the ground, legs snapping shut around his much-compressed nutsack. He was screeching like a harpy, impotently kicking his feet and rocking back and forth.

“Come, my daughter, join me at my side. It is time for you to ascend the throne of R’lyeh,” she said, holding out her hand for me.

I grabbed it without thinking and felt a deep, dark and wonderful power bloom in my midst. It was like a veil had been ripped away from my mind, letting me see and feel clearly for the first time. Without even noticing, I grabbed another man’s balls, so warm and full of life compared to my cold hands. I squeezed them, digging my nails into their sensitive backside. The feeling of his testicles being crushed in my hand felt… right. Natural.

It was the triumph of femininity over the weak male form, and soon, all the balls in the world would feel that same intimate agony. Thanks to my mother, thanks to the Old One Tulzsha, my hand would seize them all, just as the Testinomicon prophesied.