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She took a deep breath, sighed, and said, "Lunch Break!" She passed Flynn and he heard something open. "You hungry?"
"Yeah."
"You like Chinese food?"
"Yeah," he said over his shoulder. He couldn't see her.
"Won ton soup?"
"Uh, yeah...it's...one of my favorites."
"Me, too." The door shut. It was a fridge. Another opened and clacked shut, and he heard a long whir. A microwave. She returned to his side.
"If you really can ejaculate a whole quart of cum, that means they gave you the full treatment. Your genetic enhancement form was signed off on by your parents or guardian and there was an optional procedure next to which they checked the "yes" box. A fairly minor surgery. You know what I'm getting at?"
"My seminal vesicles?"
"Right. They made an incision above them in the bottom of your abdominal wall. Now did you take the hormone supplements they gave you?"
"Yes."
She grinned. "Then your vesicles have grown to accommodate all the extra space they could take. One quart sounds possible, although I really do think your're exaggerating."
He shook his head. "I wouldn't lie to you after what I've seen. I promise, I really did cum a whole quart one time. Only once. And never more than that. But one pint is a genuine average."
She smiled merrily at him. "Alright! Well, it's gonna be great to find out! But you're going to need a TON of water and salt. Both. And just like you said, a couple days of rest to...replenish." She suddenly widened and narrowed her eyes at him. It was the most terrifying expression he had yet seen from her. The microwave dinged. She walked behind him. He took a deep breath, looking around the room at the results of her debaucherous savagery. He swallowed as he heard her return. She held up a quart pitcher filled almost to the brim with steaming won ton soup, dumplings at the bottom. "I tasted it and it's the perfect amount of hot! But let it touch your lips first, then let me know."
He nodded and tilted his head up. She held the rim to his lips and when the soup touched, she lowered it. He licked and said, "That's fine. Tastes good." She slowly tipped the pitcher at his mouth and steadied it on his lips while he drank. She held the bottom with her right. He gulped down half of it in one breath then paused and she heard him breathe long through his nose, then slowly drank the rest. Four dumplings slid up to his lips. He gulped each one, chewed and swallowed, chewed and swallowed. He finished it all.
She lowered the pitcher to her side and stroked his throat. "Good?"
He panted a little to catch his breath and nodded. "Yeah. Thanks. I was...hungrier than I thought."
"You want some water? You know, 'cause it was salty?"
He took a deep breath and shook his head. "I think I'm good for now." She smiled and leaned in, kissed him, and he tilted his head, opened his mouth, and they French kissed for one minute, enjoying the taste. She slurped away and her eyes had taken on their familiar malignant coquetry, a sadistic narcissism, and she went behind him. She loved herself as much as he loved himself. But she also loved torturing people and this dungeon was a candy store to her. He heard the fridge and the microwave again. Then her hands gently patted against his asscheeks and began massaging them, kneading into their soft muscle, squeezing, hefting them up. He felt her breath on his left trapezius and she kissed it slowly up his neck, licked his ear. Flynn Fitzherbert's cock started rising. Now it was a few degrees above horizontal, thirteen inches long, three and a half inches thick, and while her left hand rolled around in his asscheek, he felt her right fingers ease up between his thighs and knead into his taint, pressing hard, no nails, just fingers, pinching his urethra and massaging it up into the root of his sack. He opened his mouth and closed his eyes. His head turned up to the ceiling and he started slowly, gently thrusting his hips forward. She grinned and massaged up at the base of his cock. It stood fourteen inches long, over three and a half inches thick at an upward 45-degree angle. The microwave dinged. Her hands left him.
He stood panting, heart pounding and opened his eyes. His cock held at about fourteen inches, glans rich purplish red. He felt his balls begin to lower, and then his sack stretch tight. She reappeared with the pitcher at her lips, chugging soup. He realized he felt nothing running down his mouth. He hadn't spilled a drop and now he saw why. She wasn't spilling a drop, and drinking that much of anything from a pitcher without letting it seep around the corners of your mouth is virtually impossible, but she was doing it and the soup was slowly disappearing. It was her control of the pitcher. She tilted her head back farther, eyes closed, farther, full, wavy brown hair brushing the top of her voluptuous ass, throat rolling down and up, down and up. She swallowed the dumplings whole in four voiced gulps, throat flexing wide, narrowing, flexing, narrowing. She finished it with a quick breath out and a long gasp in, panting toward the men in cages, belched, and turned to Flynn licking her lips. She didn't falter when she looked at his cock. She didn't have to look down at it, just looked him in the eyes and could see it fine, almost vertical in front of him. She chuckled and the chuckling turned to giddy laughter. She walked to him, set the pitcher to the left of his head on top of his cage and grinned into his eyes. Her lush, green irises purred ruthless bloodlust. His cock began to soften.
"Something tells me you won't last very long," she murmured from a gurgling throat wet with soup. "So I'm going to make your balls two nice achy distractions for you!" He licked his lips. Then nodded humbly. Those green, malevolent eyes finally turned away from his and he sighed as she walked away. His cock was still softening, despite her ass. She took the chair from Robert Gentzel's cage and set it behind the next, this one the last of those facing the opposite wall. Five faced that wall, five faced the left wall, and four faced the right wall. This last one was angled diagonally into the corner.
She sat and held up the clipboard. "Lee Bradley! 36 years old! Hair brown. Eyes brown. Crimes! Sedition! One! Breaking and entering! Nine!" She flipped the page. They all waited. "No violence against other people. Alright." She set the clipboard on Gentzel's back. He shuddered, then went back to silent pants. He farted blood and shit gurgling to the floor. "Nothing to say?" she asked. Lee Bradley didn't respond. "Bradley?"
"Oh. Um...well, since you asked..."
She stood and knelt onto her right knee before him, hair wild to the floor. He watched it all spill over and then looked back to her. "Yes?" she asked. Her eyes were vibrantly emerald. She didn't look angry, but her head was almost upside down to him, so he wasn't sure.
"Um...I enjoy ball torture." He swallowed and waited. She shrugged. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Whatever you do to me, I'm going to enjoy it." He bravely glared. He was terrified. "So go right ahead! Do your worst!" She smirked immediately.
"You think I haven't heard shit like that before?" she asked. "Good old reverse psychology? Well, unfortunately, it doesn't work that way to begin with. Even if you're telling the truth, everyone has limits! Pain is a great equalizer! Eventually, it humanizes all of us! No matter how tough you are, or how sexually perverse, in the end, there can be 'too much'! Okay? And when that happens? You're going to scream just as musically as the rest!" She closed her eyes at the word "musically." She watched him. He sighed, swallowed and looked at the floor under him. A single tear dripped from his right eye. He didn't blink. His mouth didn't quiver.
She stood and sat behind him. "That being said, you're not much worse an offender than John Fulp, so this will be...fairly quick." She put her right hand on his ass and looked him over. His dick was totally limp but dangled quite a ways from him. His balls were plump and heavy. She stood and padded away a few steps, then padded back. He heard tape unrolling, then a rip, and felt her warm hands. His balls raised and tape firmly smoothed between them, around his left one and firm to the sling he hung in, then firm back between his balls along his taint, stopping just before his asshole. She patted both his asscheeks. His cock was stiffening slowly, and she laughed a little as she watched his pulse hastening in it, throbbing up harder, faster.
She stood, moved the chair aside, and backed up a few steps. "Your balls are nice and big, but as low as they hung, I'd never rupture them. And I do have to rupture them, Lee Bradley! To teach you a lesson about breaking and entering!"
She heard him sigh. "Just..." he said, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry about what I did. Guess that means..." she heard him gulp, "just...be as gentle as you can...please."
"Well that's about as polite as I've heard so far," she said. "You got it, bud." And she snapped her right foot up between his thighs as hard as she could, every muscle in that leg flexed huge, ass rippling up to her waist, and smashed Lee Bradley's balls flat and warm across from thigh to thigh. The smack reverberated five times and Flynn heard Lee Bradley growl out a long, bass groan. He shook in his sling but did not scream. She was already drawing her leg back, stood on her toes and didn't wait. She snapped it forward again and this impact was more of a splash, louder and meatier. Lee Bradley bellowed in his bass voice and it took one full second for his voice to change. It rose with his head from bass through tenor and alto into a falsetto howl as his squirming erupted fiercely. His howl was immediately desperate and rapid-fire, warbling higher between his pants.
"There went your right one!" she shouted over him. "Felt the pop on the right side! It's not bad though! Here comes the left!" She stepped to her right, measured back in the swirling, metal ringing of his frantic screams, and snapped her left up so hard his cage left the floor four inches. The splash hurt Flynn's ears more than the cage crashing down. Lee Bradley's screaming yiped silent and then a low, trembling groan whimpered up as the pain bloomed into his belly and wrenched everything tight, squeezed around him and he flopped his head up and down, the only part of his body he could move. "There we go! I had to make sure with that one, Lee! If it hadn't popped, your right nut would have had to take another!"
She replaced the chair and sat behind his shaking body, shackles jangling. "But, I'm sorry, kiddo. The ruptures were just for the first two counts of breaking and entering. This is for the other seven. Try to think about those while I do this!" She yanked the tape off and his balls flopped down, cock completely limp. She seized one ball in each hand, rolled them around until she felt the ruptures yield in weakly and Lee Bradley screeched back to life around the dungeon as she dug her thumbs into the spots where his testicular walls had ripped open and the contents were protruding. She jiggled and kneaded hard, massaging inward while he screeched as high as a hawk, ragged and gasping, head pointed at the ceiling. Flynn could hear how she played the music out of his voice and envisioned what she was doing, stretching the ruptures wider, pushing her thumbs in deeper, squeezing the pulp back into his balls. Flynn listened to his voice suddenly gasp and pant higher still, a terrified quavering wail and that was Cassandra squeezing his balls tight around in her fists so the pulp would burst out through the ruptures again. Then she dug her thumbs in some more and Lee Bradley felt his testicular walls tearing open wider. His wail crested over into a quiet keening bleat, he lowered his head parallel to the floor and she slid the chair farther to the right out from behind him, stretching his balls around with her. Now Flynn could see her thumbs dug in to their first knuckles inside his balls, wriggling them around in slow circles, then up and down, and Lee Bradley's mewling bleat suddenly croaked and he vomited with a loud shrieking quake into the drain, a full stomach's worth.
"There we go!" she sang and released his nuts. His dry-heaving began and would have continued for several minutes had she not put him out of his misery. She reached behind her, took the razor from Gentzel's back, snatched Lee Bradley's nuts up in her left hand, he puked a mighty wave of nausea, and she brought the razor up beneath them, sawing back and forth just above her knuckles. Flynn groaned and shut his eyes. He heard the scrotum ripping. Lee Bradley puked again and then diarrhea splashed out three feet behind him across the floor. That was why she had moved aside. She remained totally clean. "Ready?" she asked Bradley brightly, and yanked the blade back to her once more. Blood splattered her right arm up to her biceps, all over her left forearm, and she held Lee Bradley's balls in her left hand as she stood. Shit blasted from him again and he heaved a weak, plaintive whimper as stomach acid dribbled from his lips and nose.
"Ten seconds and it'll start dying down!" she said. She set the bloody razor open on Gentzel's back and walked out and around behind Robert Fulp toward the door. She knelt on both knees in front of his face and he looked up. His eyes were still deep red and full of tears but his face was calm. She held up Lee Bradley's nutsack.
"I'll make you a deal, John! You eat both of these, and I'll give you a nice, long handjob right now!"
He swallowed, glanced at them, then back to her. He was now fully attentive but frowned.
"Your seminal vesicles are still completely full of cum. And your body still has all its testosterone. When you get back to your cell, if you want, you can still jerk off one last time! Fully ejaculatory! It'll feel just as good as usual! The effort won't hurt your spermatic cords! Or!" She grinned. "You can eat both of Lee Bradley's balls right now, and I mean chew them up well and swallow them! Don't spit them out! Don't puke! And I promise, I'll jerk you off right here, right now!"
His lips quivered. He panted deep and fast through his nose. He bared his teeth at her and swallowed. She blinked and shook her head with a smile, still holding a severed nutsack by her face, "Don't say something you're gonna regret!"
He sighed shakily, blinked down to the floor, and then shook his head. He looked back up and nodded. He didn't want to do it, but he was a 17-year-old virgin being offered his final ejaculation by the most gloriously beautiful woman he had ever seen, even if he did hate her. "Oh, boy!" she squealed and dropped the balls into her hand, tossed the sack to the floor beneath David Andersen's drooling lips and clenched eyes, and dangled the first testicle before John Fulp's trembling lips. He gazed at it dully, a jagged hole mangled inward to the size of a dime, orange contents hanging over the bluish white skin, then breathed deep and opened his mouth. She set it on his tongue and he closed his lips. "No! No! Show me your teeth!"
He grinned emotionless at her. "Put the nut between your molars and show me!" He slowly opened his mouth and rolled the nut in between his left molars. "Now bite down hard but keep your lips open!" He breathed deep, shut his eyes, and crunched. The nut exploded like bloody putty across his tongue, filling the space between his teeth and his cheek, bursting over his bottom lip and streaming down his chin. He shivered his eyes tighter. "Chew! Keep those lips open!" He gulped without moving anything. All his food remained in his mouth. He gulped again. "Chew! You can do it!" He opened his teeth and clenched again. The tunica albuginea clung to his upper teeth. He opened them and it plopped onto his lowers. "Use your tongue! Swish it around!" He did so, not closing his lips. Orange meat juiced with saliva dribbled onto his chin. She fingered it back in. "Alright, close your lips and swallow!"
He quickly closed his lips and gulped with a growl. He gulped again, shutting his eyes as the bitter pulp of a man's nut swished out from his cheeks and slid over the back of his tongue. The sudden increase in bitterness made him grunt. He swallowed but his stomach started churning. He bucked, heaved hard over, chin to his chest, screaming a growl through his nose. It was irate, raging fury as he fought to keep it down.
Then his stomach gurgled, she saw his abs ripple and he quickly calmed into rapid panting. He retched, gulped, and carefully let out a burp.
He opened his eyes and there was another testicle dangling before them, a mangled hole twirling by with orange guts protruding. She was spinning it by the cord. He shook his head in disbelief. He slowly opened his mouth. It lowered onto his tongue and he closed his left molars around it with his lips open. "No. This time your right molars," she said. He glared up at her. That only made her cock her smile wider at him. He quickly swished it across his tongue under his right molars, opened his lips wider and glared angrily at her as he bit down. It burst into ooey-gooey bitterness, the consistency of oatmeal, all over his mouth. He felt it splash the backs of his incisors. He panted and never left her gaze as he chewed it up, swished it around, wincing at its flavor but not closing his eyes from hers, and then she said, "Alright." He quickly swallowed.
But it was the same problem as before. His bitter taste buds didn't have to deal with the worst of its flavor until the end and the saliva that slimed over them, mixed with mashed testicle was too much bitterness all at once. His stomach retched hard before it was all the way down, so he gulped hard against it. He gagged. He barfed into his mouth with his lips shut tight. Vomit drooled from his nostrils. He gulped all of it back down again, but now he tasted testicles and vomit. He retched it all back into his mouth. His nose slimed to the floor. He growled and shuddered against his cage, opened his eyes and glared at the floor as he gulped it all down again. She chuckled as she listened to it wash down his throat. And it would have stayed this time. Except the last thing he felt was one of the testicular walls, flat and tattered, ooze in the bitter, acidic sludge over the back of his tongue. Its jagged shape tickled his throat, and he heaved in a huge wave up to his jaws and puked everything in a long gargling slurry into the drain. He coughed, gagged, and blew his nose. The vomit just slimed longer. He couldn't see through his tears and he didn't need to. He slowly shook his head.
Then he felt the towel wiping his mouth, his chin. She fluffed it and found a clean spot, wiped his eyes, and then pinched his nose shut. He blew it and she cleaned it for him. Then she tossed it up onto his back and smiled at him. "Plenty of chances left!" Then she stood and walked behind him. He whimpered at the floor and spat.
Lee Bradley was no longer squealing or puking, just shivering out his breaths as slowly as he could, trying to calm down. "See?" she said as she walked to the back. "Pain's already gone for the most part!" She returned with the hose and rinsed his ass and thighs, then set the hose down, picked up the burdizzo from behind Gentzel and raised it inside Lee Bradley's open sack, settled it around his right cord and said, "Unfortunately, this next part is required so you don't bleed to death. And most men concur that it feels exactly the same as their balls being crushed." Lee Bradley whimpered heavily. "Yeah, well, you'll only feel it once in each cord. I promise the pain will be almost completely gone in about ten minutes!" Crunch.
He shrieked his head at the ceiling again and his shriek didn't stop, just wavered on and on after she let go. She crunched beneath the first crimp. His shriek did not change. She shook her head with a smirk and crunched his left cord. His shriek shot up in pitch and stopped as the agony blasted through his bowels to his diaphragm. He flexed tight and undulated from his groin slowly up to his shoulders, head slowly lifting. Then she let go and crunched again. He lowered his head as slowly as his body began to relax. "There we go," she soothed. "Already going away. Just keep breathing and be patient."
Then a fiery pinch made him jerk up into a feeble whine. His chains rattled. Another fiery pinch and the pinch did not release. Four more pinches and his whine sniffled down into soft weeping. "There we go! It's over, kiddo! Well done!" She set the stapler on the floor and patted both his asscheeks, squeezed and massaged them, smearing them with blood. "You got a great ass! You do squats!" She gently stroked them while he squirmed and shuddered out his sobs. "Great dick, too! I'll bet it was ten inches, right? Nine or ten?" He moaned, gulped and burped, spattered drool to the floor. "Shame about it." She kneaded her fingers around in the smooth softness. "Well!" She slapped both cheeks as she stood, "You think about that when you get back to your cell!"