Piggy’s Balls: The Darkest Low Point (Ball Hanging, Hammering, Fear)

Disclaimer: These stories are a work of fiction. None of the events depicted have occurred as they are depicted.

Author’s Note: Sorry for the week-long delay — this chapter was a tough one to crack. While it has some ballbusting, it’s heavier on relationship drama, aftercare, and emotional beats than pure CBT (same goes for Chapter 15). Hope you enjoy it!

I’ll be posting one chapter per week from here on out, so the rest of the 17-chapter saga + epilogue will roll out over the next 6–7 weeks. Stay tuned!

Here are the previous chapters.

Chapter 1: Planning (Threats and Setup) Chapter 2: New Friends (Punching Game) Chapter 3: The Thrill of Victory, the Agony of Defeat (Crushing) Chapter 4: Playing Simon (Hammering Game) Chapter 5,6,7: Jodie’s Date (Mallet and Blowjob) Chapter 8, 9: Red Light, Green Light (Punching and Stun Gun) Chapter 10: Scream for Me (Brutal Kicking) Chapter 11: Netflix and Definitely Not Chill (Threats and Cutting) Chapter 12 – “The Apology That Backfired” (Aftercare, humiliation) Chapter 13 – “The Darkest Low Point” (Ball Hanging, Hammering, Fear) Piggy barely made it to Jodie’s house before the anger started leaking out of him, replaced by that familiar, desperate ache. The second she opened the door and saw his face, her expression melted into pure delight.

“Piggy!” She grabbed his shirt and yanked him inside, wrapping her strong arms around him. “You came back to me. I knew you would. Roosters always return to the henhouse.”

She buried her face in his neck and squeezed him tight—too tight. Her voice dropped into something low and possessive.

“Don’t you ever leave me again, okay? Never ever. I don’t like it when you leave.”

The words sounded sweet to Piggy, and she was so happy to see him. That was enough.

They moved to her bedroom. She pulled him down onto her bed and they cuddled for a long time, her body pressed against his, stroking his hair and telling him how much she’d missed him. For a little while, everything felt perfect.

Then Jodie sat up with a bright smile. “I’ll make us drinks. You just relax, baby.”

She returned a few minutes later with two glasses and handed him one. They clinked them together and kept cuddling, her head on his chest, her fingers lazily tracing circles on his belly. The drink tasted a little strange, but he was too tired and too happy to care. His eyelids grew heavy. The last thing he felt was Jodie kissing his cheek and whispering, “Good boy.”

When Piggy woke up, something was very wrong.

His arms were stretched tight above his head, wrists bound to the metal headboard with rope. His legs were spread wide and tied to the bottom corners of the bed. He couldn’t move more than an inch in any direction. And between his legs…

A heavy chain was cinched tight around the base of his scrotum, the other end running up to a winch mounted on the ceiling. Jodie was standing beside the bed, slowly turning the hand crank with a soft metallic click-click-click.

The pressure on his balls was already intense. His large, smooth, shaved sack was stretched upward, the skin pulled drum-tight and shiny.

Jodie noticed his eyes were open and her face lit up with a dreamy smile.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” she said happily, still turning the crank. “I was waiting for you. I just love these big, pretty balls of yours so much. I had an idea… if we stretch them for a couple hours a day, they’ll get even bigger. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Piggy’s stomach dropped. The fog in his head cleared instantly.

“Jodie… what the fuck? What did you put in that drink?” His voice cracked with panic. “Untie me. Please. This isn’t funny.”

She just smiled wider and gave the crank another slow turn. The winch clicked again. His balls were pulled higher, the heavy orbs starting to bulge obscenely at the bottom of the stretched sac, the skin thinning and turning a pale, shiny white.

“Jodie, stop! Please, this is too much!” He started struggling against the ropes, his voice rising into desperate begging. “You’re going to tear them off! Please, I’m serious—stop!”

But Jodie wasn’t listening. Her eyes were fixed on his stretched scrotum with that hungry, faraway look he was starting to recognize. She paused just long enough to reach under the bed and pull out one of her hammers—the claw hammer from the Simon game.

She tapped it thoughtfully against her palm while still holding the winch crank with her other hand.

“I wonder how they’ll look when they’re pulled this tight and I hammer them…” she murmured, almost to herself. “They’ll probably bounce really cute. Let’s try it.”

“Noooo!”

She swung the hammer. It smashed into his bound testicles with a meaty thud. Piggy clenched every muscle, but he couldn’t squirm. The chain held his sack stretched tight; the heavy orbs deformed under the impact but had nowhere to bounce.

Jodie looked perplexed. Those big nuts hadn’t bounced like she wanted.

She gave it another swing, harder. The hammer crashed into the sensitive orbs again. They flattened grotesquely against the pressure of the chain, the skin stretched so thin it looked ready to split.

She swung again, even harder.

Piggy screamed as his man parts were brutalized, but still no bounce.

Angry now, she swung the hammer again and again into his trapped testicles, leaving deep bruises and waves of pain, but never getting the bounce she desired. Piggy was struggling to no avail. The suffering of his nutmeat was amplified enormously by being unable to move, unable to recover between blows. He had never felt this before. He was panicking, desperate for a break.

Frustrated, Jodie dropped the hammer. She returned to the crank and turned it a couple more times with steady, deliberate clicks.

Piggy was forced into a sickening position, his ass lifted eight inches off the bed, his balls hopelessly stretched toward the ceiling. The pain was unlike anything he had ever felt—a deep, tearing ache that made him truly afraid.

“Please Jodie… Please let me down.”

“Shhhhh. Boyfriend. Let’s just give the stretch some time to work.”

“Jodie… please.”

“Quiet or I have to make you be quiet.”

Piggy tried to be quiet, but that only lasted a couple of minutes. His muscles couldn’t support him. He was going to rip his balls off.

“HELP! Somebody, please HELP ME!” He shouted as loudly as he could.

Jodie slapped his face, momentarily silencing him. Then, when he opened his mouth to scream again, she shoved a pair of her dirty socks into it. He tried to spit them out, but she clamped her hand over his mouth. A moment later she slapped a strip of duct tape across his lips.

He struggled, but there was nothing he could do.

She seemed satisfied. She picked up her phone and started taking photos, the flash blinding him as she captured his contorted, naked body and his grotesquely stretched balls from every angle.

Piggy was in an impossible position. He tried to lift his body to take stress off his balls, but his muscles were only capable of doing that for a minute or two. When they failed, his balls suffered. Over and over he struggled, trying to breathe through his nose, trying to survive. His testicles were stronger than he thought—they weren’t ripping off—but they also weren’t getting any more comfortable. Minute after minute the pain continued to increase. Lingering bruises from the hammer, a burning spot where his sweat reached the torn patch on his sack, and the endless, merciless stretch.

Jodie eyed the changing colors of Piggy’s pretty balls. The orbs had both swollen and shrunk. Trapped blood made the meat expand, but the stretch forced more of it into the chain that held it tight. They resembled a ripe squash growing in the garden. It wasn’t her favorite look, but she was fascinated by how they stretched. She took more photos, paused to get a snack, started uploading the pictures to her PC, then came back and took even more.

Once Jodie was done with the photos, she got bored and lowered the winch.

Piggy collapsed back onto the bed, soaked in sweat. His balls were throbbing with lingering agony, the stretched skin still burning. He was sure they would never be the same. All of the tortures over many years, and he had never been so convinced his testicles were permanently damaged. Alexis was right. Why had he not listened? Jodie was mad. Dangerous. Insane.

Jodie said cheerfully, “Stretching is pretty boring. We should do that overnight, while I sleep. Right now I want to see which hammer makes them bounce the best.” She gestured to a small table where a whole collection of hammers lay waiting—including a heavy 5-pound sledge that made Piggy’s blood run cold.

She looked at him and asked, “Are you done hollering like a peacock in heat?”

Piggy nodded frantically.

She ripped the tape free and pulled the wet socks out of his mouth.

“I need to pee,” Piggy gasped.

Jodie considered.

“You can use the hammers to bounce my balls, but it will be more fun if I don’t piss all over your bed.”

She seemed unconvinced. Piggy panicked. Alexis would know what to say to control her. He didn’t. He wasn’t a talker. He was the balls. The party favor. The thing that made others excited. Maybe he wasn’t that anymore either. Maybe it could be saved. He had to get her to let him go.

“Jodie, I think you are the only person that has ever treated me like a girlfriend. I won’t try anything, I promise.”

“Well alright then. Go to the bathroom, it’s over there.” She untied him.

He stood up unsteadily. His balls ached terribly from the stretch and the hammering, the skin still tight and inflamed, burning at the top.

Piggy knew this was his only chance. He had to move fast. She was strong, and he wasn’t in the best shape. He headed slowly toward the bathroom, using furniture to support himself, testing his legs, trying to figure out if he could run.

Jodie plopped down and started pulling up the photos she had taken on her computer.

Piggy could see his pudgy frame contorting on the screen, his testicles stretched obscenely. This woman was unwell. He had his best chance. He redirected from the bathroom toward the front door, moving slowly so as not to draw attention.

When she turned, he rushed. Years of withstanding testicle pain had prepared him for this moment. His sore, distended balls bounced painfully between his thighs as he sprinted out the door, completely naked into the night.

She chased after him, calling out, “Boyfriend, come back!”

He ran. His balls hurt terribly with every step, smashing into his thighs, but he kept running. Years of ballbusting had prepared him for this moment. The slapping of his nutmeat sent fresh agony up his spine, but it didn’t slow him. He ran, and ran.

At some point Jodie gave up her pursuit. Piggy didn’t know when. He ran out of breath and slowed down. She was gone.

So he stumbled across campus naked in the middle of the night, returning to the house he shared with Alexis and Joe — limping, bleeding, and finally understanding just how right Alexis had been.

Author's Note: I have drafted the entire Piggy saga. 17 chapters and an Epilogue. It's the most insane work of art I've ever been a part of.

I really appreciate feedback. Throw me a comment if you like my writing to let me know what you'd like to see in the future.