Rancher Learns a Painful Lesson (Ball Busting, Femdom, FFFM, Elastrator, Castration, NoConsent)

Hank began to wake up, dazed and groggy, in a clouded stupor. As the room slowly came into focus he looked up at a cracked and yellowish stained ceiling. Looking around the room he sees a door at the entry fastened with a chain and deadbolt. Beside it is an old radiator style heater. Above the radiator is a double window, with the cheap floral curtains drawn. A bargain store dresser with a drawer missing is across the room from the bed, cheap still life paintings adorn the walls on either side of the dresser. As his eyes make his way to the back of the room he notices a beautiful young woman lying on the bed next to him. Hank is under the covers but the woman is fully clothed, lying on top of the covers.


The woman feels Hank beginning to stir so she adjusts her body so that she is now facing him. She is beautiful, roughly 5’6” tall, toned, athletic build, and tan skin. She has long brunette hair pulled back into pigtails, large brown eyes, and pouty, full, light pink lips. She is wearing a red and black checkered, midriff flannel shirt tied in a knot at her midsection. A faint outline of a six pack can be seen under her flat stomach. The shirt is buttoned down low, barely concealing her large C-cup perky breasts. She has light blue cut off denim shorts exposing her thick athletic thighs. To Hank she appears to be in her mid-twenties and probably played college volleyball for how she was built.


“Good morning handsome,” she says with a smile, flashing her beautiful brown eyes. “Do you remember much of last night?”


Hank flushed for a moment, “umm, not really,” he smiled nervously. Bits and pieces of the night slowly began to come back to him. He remembered finishing up at the ranch and heading to a rowdy cowboy bar a few towns over to blow off some steam. At one point he remembered being approached at the bar by a girl way out of his league, the woman laying next to him in fact, Brandi was her name. She seemed fascinated by his stories of his ranch work. At one point he remembers doing a couple whisky shots with her (which he has been known to put down more than a couple), but then the details got hazy.


As a look of slow understanding and recollection came across Hank’s face, the beautiful young woman continued, “You had quite a few drinks, I thought you cowboys could handle your whisky,” Brandi teased.


“I typically can,” Hank replied sheepishly. Hank started to feel a little embarrassed. Concerned about what he may be wearing under the blankets he lifted up his hands to take a quick look under the sheets. His hands felt weird, like they were wrapped up in something, it was hard to move his fingers. He pulled out his hands and discovered that he was wearing thick rubber mittens on his hands, only there were no protrusions for fingers. They looked like rubber balls at the end of his arms, locked at the wrist so they could not be easily removed. “What the hell is all this?”


“Oh those, those are for our little experiment,” she smiled once more.


“What experiment?” Hank's head was spinning and he was starting to get a little panicked.


“You’ll see soon enough. Ladies, please come out, it’s time,” she says as she directs her voice toward the back of the room where a closed bathroom door begins to open.


Behind the door stand two equally beautiful women, with outfits and builds similar to the first. One is also tan like Brandi. She has dirty blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail, wearing a blue and green midriff flannel shirt. The other is very pale, has short black hair, and is wearing black and white flannel. The dirty blonde is holding two items, in one hand she appears to be holding an orange ball gag with a thick leather strap attached to it and in the other hand is a weird smiling, full head, puppy dog mask. The woman with short black hair is holding something Hank is all too familiar with, an Elastrator. Both women smirk with devilish intent. Hank also notices a large, steel wire, dog kennel next to the bathroom, roughly 3’ x 3’ x 4’.


Hank’s eyes shift quickly back to Brandi. His brain is filled with panic and dread as he tries to calm himself. “What’s all that for?” Hank says shakily, ignoring the elephant in the room, the large Elastrator that he himself has used on hundreds if not thousands of cattle over the years.


Brandi chuckles, “It’s for you silly!” The women slowly begin walking towards the bed.


“You can be fucking serious.” Hank says gruffly, his graze switches back to the Elastrator in the short black haired woman’s hands. “Fuck this.”


With that Hank uses his two red mittened hands to try and brush away the sheets as he attempts to spin his legs out of the covers onto the floor. He quickly learns that he is fully naked and still very wobbly from last night’s events. After great effort he stumbles his way to the front door and begins to fumble at the locks. Initially, the women stand back and watch in amusement as he hopelessly tries to gain freedom. They giggle and joke as he struggles. “What’s the matter big boy, having some troubles with the locks?” one of the women jests.


Eventually, Hank presses one of the mittens firmly against the end of the chain and is able to slide it free from the slide lock, one lock successfully undone. Now only the deadbolt stands between Hank and freedom from these crazy bitches. The problem is, the deadbolt has a small mechanism that you twist to unlock. Hank tries to push at the top of the mechanism with one of the mittens but doesn’t get anywhere. He next tries pushing his mittens together on either side of the mechanism, but he cannot make contact with it, the large circular mittens are too round and rigid for him to squeeze onto the mechanism. Finally he starts to hit the mechanism, hoping one of the hits will cause it to twist, to no avail. Feeling helpless he begins yelling, “HELP!! PLEASE….SOMEBODY HELP ME! HELP!”


The girls exchange glances and figure that the charade has gone on long enough. They set the Elastrator down on the bed along with the gag and grinning puppy dog mask. Brandi comes up behind Hank and puts an arm around Hank’s neck, in a sort of choke hold-like move and attempts to pull him towards the bed. Hank is no spring chicken, tens of years of hard ranch work has made this 45 year old rancher tough as nails, he has no problem maintaining his position at the door and continuing his yells for help, “HELP. (arghhhh) HELP! (aarrghh) SOMEONE HELP!”


Brandi begins speaking, “It’s no use yelling there Hank. We are at the far end of this shit box motel and we made sure there were no other tenants in this wing. The only worker here is 70+ years old and she wouldn’t hear you if you were yelling in the same room as her.” Brandi teases.


The dirty blonde reaches the fray and grabs onto one of Hank’s mittened arms and also tries pulling him back toward the bed. They begin to make some progress but ultimately Hank is still winning on sheer force alone. Now the short black hair woman joins in. She looks annoyed and it is apparent that she is running out of patience. She stands to the other side of Hank while the other girls struggle to subdue him. She finally gets her opening so she balls up her fist and **BAMMMM**. A powerful hammer fist directly into Hank’s exposed balls.


As a rancher, Hank’s balls were stronger than most average men’s. Years of bouncing on hard leather saddles and incidental hits in the balls from animals, tools, and other items have toughened them up, but this hit was like nothing he had ever experienced before. This was no indirect contact or brush with pain. There was no thick sturdy denim material from his jeans to shield or cushion part of the blow. This was pure direct pain and he felt it immediately. He felt like his soul had briefly left his body. All the air left his lungs as he was left sucking for air like a fish out of water.


Brandi held him up by her choke hold for a few moments but when she learned what had happened she released him and he fell hard to the floor. Glancing over at her friend with the short black hair she saw all she needed to know. Her friend gave her a little grin and shrugged innocently. “That’s one way to do it I suppose,” Brandi quipped. “Alright, Vicky, grab the gag and mask. Let’s get our little puppy situated.”


The dirty blonde haired Vicky went to the bed, grabbed the gag and mask, and quickly returned to Brandi. Hank was on his elbows and knees with his forehead against the floor, rocking back and forth, doing anything he could to make the incredible pain in his balls subside, but the pain seemed to only be getting stronger as wave after wave of aftershocks locked his body up in debilitating pain.


Brandi stood over Hank and quickly pulled the ballgag down around the front of his face and pulled back on the straps, trying to force the ball into Hank’s mouth. Hank clenched his jaw tight, not wanting to give them an inch. With the strap of the ball gag still in her hand, Brandi grabbed onto Hank’s right ear and started twisting it. “Open your mouth right now or I will let Mercy have another go at your balls,” she stated firmly with no hint of empathy.


Hank finally relented. Brandi felt the ball secure firmly into his mouth. She pulled back on the straps and fastened the buckle, holding the gag in place. “I’m not gonna bother locking the gag, I don’t think he has the dexterity to undo it,” Brandi laughed as the others joined in. “The mask please.”


Vicky hands the mask to Brandi and she quickly pulls it over Hank’s head. She gives the mask a twist so that the eye holes are properly aligned and fastens the buckle around Hank’s neck so that the mask cannot be easily removed. Brandi inspects the mask and finds a piece of fabric hanging down at the side of the mask, a blindfold. She brings the fabric up and pulls it across the eye holes, fastening it with another buckle at the other side of the mask. The blindfold has happy smiling eyes painted on it, to match the grin of the rest of the mask. “There we go ladies, now we have our happy little puppy,” Brandi boasts proudly. Brandi pats Hank on the back, stands up straight and backs up so she is no longer straddling him but standing behind him. “Time to stand up puppy.”


Hank groans from underneath the mask, still reeling from Mercy’s powerful hammerfist. He shakes his head in reluctance. “Come on, don’t make this any more difficult on yourself than it has to be. You are in no position to argue.”


Hank’s head becomes still as he weighs his choices. Finally, he lifts his head from the ground and begins to rise. Once he is fully upright, Brandi grabs his right arm and begins to lead him to the back of the room. After a couple steps, Hank has regained some of his strength, despite being blindfolded, gagged, and his hands in clunky rubber mittens, he decides to mount a last ditch effort. If these ladies mean to use that Elastrator he saw before, he wasn’t going down without a fight. Hank plants his feet and uses all the strength he could muster to swing his right arm forward, sending Brandi crashing into the wall.


Hearing her collision and pain, Hank has new hope and a surge of adrenaline. He crouches in his stance and turns his hips sideways, not to give the girls an easy target. He thrashes his arms about in a whirlwind of movement, trying to keep them at distance but also feeling for his surroundings. His left hand makes contact with the cheap dresser but it causes very little discomfort, it seems these rubber mittens are useful after all, they act like big boxing gloves. However, Vicky is no stranger to grappling, avoiding Hank’s thrashing arms she easily sneaks up behind him and jumps onto his back. He tries hitting Vicky with his mittens but they do little to phase her. With her arms wrapped around his neck she slides them down about his shoulders, pinning his upper arms against his body. Mercy stands back, waiting for an opening, with Hank’s arms losing their range of motion, he begins to kick out but quickly stops kicking after slamming his left foot into the dresser. He groans loudly into the gag from his stubbed toe.


Brandi regains her composure and joins in with Vicky. With Brandi’s assistance, both women now have one of Hank’s arms wrapped tightly in theirs, Vicky securing Hank's right arm and Brandi with his left. They begin to walk him toward the back of the room once more but with each step or two, Hank plants his feet and tries to push the girls backward. Mercy now sees her opening. She moves to the side of the group and stands in front of Vicky, to avoid Hank’s wild legs. She reaches down and with her strong, pale hand, with red-painted fingernails, and grabs a hold of Hank’s unprotected testicles.


Mercy squeezes the helplessly trapped testicles with great force and Hank hunches over, paralyzed with pain. “I’ve tried to be nice. I’ve tried to be patient,” Mercy explains. “But you hurt Brandi, and you hurt your livestock. I have no more patience for you.” Mercy squeezes tighter. Hank begins to lose his balance from the overwhelming pain, but Vicky and Brandi hold him upright, exchanging knowing smiles. Low groans and panting can be heard from under the mask. “Now be a good puppy and follow your balls. Follow your balls if you wish to keep them (for now),” Mercy says in a mocking tone.


She pulls his still tightly gripped balls towards the back of the motel room. Hank reluctantly follows, taking slow and uneasy steps in the direction his crushed balls are being pulled. His walk is very shaky, the crushing force on his testicles are savaging his mind and body. He is breathing heavily into his gag under the mask. The blind fold seems to only increase the pain, with one sense dulled, the others grow stronger. In that moment all he knows is pain, he is a slave to it.


The four reach the back of the motel room and they slowly guide Hank over to the bed once more with his back facing it. Mercy increases her grip on Hank’s aching testicles. “I’m going to release these for now. Will you behave, puppy?” Mercy says coldly. Hank could only whimper, all rational thought had left his brain. Intense throbbing pain crippled him. Mercy only squeezed harder. This time Hank let out a high pitched whine and survival instinct took over Hank’s thought process. He quickly nodded his head yes. “Good puppy,” Mercy said patronizingly. She released her death grip on his testicles and they dangled once more at Hank’s crotch. Strong red and white marks from Mercy’s unrelenting fingers adorned Mark’s tortured scrotum.


Brandi and Vicky release his arms and push him backwards onto the bed so that he is laying down with his legs hanging off the side and his feet on the floor. Vicky crawled onto the bed and pulled Hank’s arms up above his head, wrapped her arms around them and leaned onto them with all her weight. Brandi sat on Hank’s chest facing his lower half. “Alright, I think we are ready, Mercy,” Brandi said. Mercy walks to the head of the bed and picks up the Elastrator and loads a thick little rubber band onto the four prongs. She squeezes the handle twice to stretch out the band a little bit and size up the opening. She returns to Hank and walks up between his legs, forcing his legs apart with hers. “Remember puppy, don’t wiggle or this will hurt way more than it needs to.” With that Mercy delivers a quick little back hand slap to Hank’s unprotected balls. Hank’s body tightens up but it is nothing that Brandi and Vicky can’t handle. It seems they have sapped all of his strength.


Mercy squeezes the Elastrator’s grip once more and the band opens to its maximum size. She places the stretched band against the bottom of Hank’s scrotum and his scrotum slightly retracts. Does it sense danger or is it a natural reaction to the coldness of the metal prongs keeping the band stretched out? It didn’t matter. Mercy reached through the opening in the band and pulled the skin of Hank’s scrotum through. She pulled about two thirds of his scrotum skin through until all that remained outside of the ring were two tight testicles trapped between the rubberband and Hank’s body. With her free hand, Mercy pushed and guided the right testicle painfully through the small opening in the band, now it was through and had space to move around freely once again (for now) in the skin Mercy had pulled through previously.


Hank largely stayed still while Mercy worked, he knew how incredibly painful it could be if the band were to snap shut when the testicles were only partially through the band. Not only that but he was still incredibly weak from the two hits he had received and the long painful squeeze of Mercy’s frustration.


Mercy moved onto Hank’s left testicle. This testicle was a little bigger than the right. Mercy pressed her fingers behind the testicle trying to force it into the narrow opening but it slipped away. Hank’s body tensed and he struggled a little. Once Hank stopped fussing around, Mercy poked and prodded around the area to find the runaway testicle. Eventually she found it, almost next to penis, tight against his abdomen. She pressed down above the testicle and it worked its way back down to the opening in the band. Mercy was quite experienced with testicles. Once again she painfully pressed onto the left testicle, trying to force it into the small opening, a couple fingers pressed onto the ball, and the other surrounded it, preventing its escape route. Finally the left testicle passed through the opening and joined the right one in the tight little sack. Mercy pulled down on the pouch as a whole, making sure that both balls and their connective tissue had made its way through the opening. Once she was satisfied with her work she told the girls, “Ok ladies. Here we go.”


Mercy slowly released her grip on the device and the band contracted. She gave the two women holding Hank down a large grin, filled with excitement and mischief. Hank felt the band tightening at the base of his scrotum. The throbbing pain he had felt earlier was now turning into a very sharp and acute pain. With the band nearly fully contracted, Mercy used her cute little red fingernails to work the band off the prongs of the device. Finally the band was free and Mercy stepped back, clear away from the reach of Hank’s legs. Hank began kicking his legs, twisting his hips back and forth, his tightly bound balls bouncing from side to side. The three women all smiled greatly at the sight of his bouncing balls. Brandi exclaimed, “Yeeehawww, ride ‘em cowboy,” as Hank’s body writhed and contorted from the pain.


Brandi and Vicky jumped off of Hank’s upper body but stayed on the bed behind him. Hank immediately brought his mitts down to try and comfort his tortured balls. He sat up on the bed and groaned loudly into his mask, both mitts in his lap, fumbling fruitlessly at his endangered fruits. Brandi looked over to Vicky and Mercy, “You ladies ready?”, both nodded. “Alright, round up time!” Brandi exclaimed.


“Yeehaw!” Vicky joined in.


Brandi and Vicky got behind Hank and pushed him down onto the floor. Still blindfolded and disoriented from the pain he fell to his knees, unsure of his surroundings. The three women began pushing and dragging him towards the dog cage next to the bathroom door and he alternated between taking swipes at them and protecting his tightly bound balls, screaming with searing pain. The three women got him to the opening of the cage and with one coordinated shove, the man toppled forward into the cage. His legs still remained outside the opening of the cage however and he resumed kicking at the women, this time Vicky saw an opening and gave his tight package a quick swat. It wasn’t a hard hit but considering their predicament, the impact to his balls rang Hank’s head like a bell. He instinctively brought his legs in tight, into a fetal position. With that, Vicky closed the door of the cage and slid the latch shut.


With a sigh of relief, Brandi exclaimed, “There we go, our little puppy is all set.” Brandi got up off the floor and sat on the edge of the bed facing the cage. “Vicky, grab the wine.”


Mercy sat down on the bed next to Brandi while Vicky went into the bathroom and came out holding three glasses of white wine. She walked to the bed and handed glasses to Brandi and Mercy and sat next on the other side of Brandi. Brandi held up her glass, “To a job well done ladies.” The women clinked their glasses together and all took a sip. Meanwhile, Hank simply groaned and fumbled at his dying balls with his big clumsy red mittens.


“How are ya doing over there Hank?” Vicky teased. Hank groaned and protested into his gag but it just came out as muffled tones. “He can’t be doing that bad, he still has a giant smile on his face,” Vicky joked. All three women laughed heartily and drank from their glasses once more.


“Well Hank, it’s probably about time I fill you in a little bit. While we enjoy our victory wine here,” Brandi began while toasting the glass in Hank’s direction. “We are animal rights activists….well sort of. Think of us like PETA but we actually get things done.” Hank snarled ferociously into his gag.


Brandi continued, “While raising livestock as a whole is unethical in our eyes, we know we cannot change that. But what we can do is take on animal injustices on a small scale…one rancher at a time.” With that, Hank snarled once more.


“Easy there good buddy,” Brandi sarcastically assured him. “While keeping herd populations under control is a sad but necessary fact of raising livestock, it turns out that you still prefer the barbaric practice of Elastration for castrating your animals. Even though there are far more humane ways of doing it.” Brandi took a sip of her wine. “Just last night, you proudly admitted to me that you were one of the last in the county to do it, and that you had ‘taken more than 1,500 sets of nuts’ that way.” Hank once more yelled into his gag and increasingly fumbled at his throbbing, darkening balls.


“Well just because the animals can’t speak, doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt them. Don’t you see that?.....No? Err, well I guess not. You haven’t said anything and you seem to still be smiling. I guess maybe it isn’t so bad after all?” Brand teased. Hank began thrashing about inside the cage. His balls were screaming out in pain, gasping for life, sending wave after wave of pain over Hank’s body.


“We’re not unfair ladies after all. We are going to give you the same chance of saving your balls that you give your livestock. Your voice has been muted, just as theirs is. Your fingers have been rendered useless with the mitts, just like they cannot articulate their toes or hooves as we can. From the outside, you look just like a normal happy animal.” Brandi paused for effect. Hank stopped thrashing for a moment and hung his head low, trying to block out the pain and focus on her words.


“The only thing we have locked up is your hands, we don’t want you taking off your mittens and ruining the ‘experience’. The rest is secured with simple latches and buckles, nearly impossible for any animal to undo, but child’s play for any adult human.” Brandi joked. By now the three women were almost done with their wine. Vicky set her empty glass of wine on the nightstand and began packing up their effects into a medium sized duffle bag.


“So before we leave, here are the facts. The human testicles can survive the band we placed on you for anywhere between 1-12 hours. It is now 10am. We have the room until 11am tomorrow, with strict orders to be left alone until checkout. That’s 25 hours. If you are unable to free yourself before then, you will have endured 1,500 minutes of testicle killing pain and your testicles will more assuredly be dead forever….That’s 1 minute for every pair of balls you boasted about taking last night. That’s also IF room service comes by at exactly checkout time, with such a shitty motel as this, you could be stuck in there for far longer or you could get lucky and room service could come sooner. Either way you also don’t want the added embarrassment of room service finding you, a silly gimp, with a happy puppy dog mask on, and a black pair of balls…..So you better get moving puppy.”


Brandi stood up, took her last swallow of wine and set her glass on the nightstand next to Vicky’s and joined Vicky at the front door. Vicky had their stuff fully packed up in the duffle bag and the bag slung over her shoulder, looking back impatiently at Mercy. Hank continued to fidget with his balls while listening to every word.



Mercy continued to watch Hank fumble around, trying to save his balls, paying no mind to the other two women already at the door, eager to leave. “Are you coming Mercy? Vicky asked impatiently.


“Oh yes, I will be right there!” Mercy replied.


“Ok, but don’t be too long. And don’t mess with him too much, he has enough to worry about for the next 25 hours.” Brandi joked.


“No problem! Right behind you!” Mercy exclaimed. With that, the two ladies left the room and closed the door quickly behind them. Once Mercy was sure the other two had left she turned to face Hank once more. “Hey there Hanky boy? How are you doing?” Mercy mocked. “Your little ballsies hurting? Awww that’s too bad.” She held her hands over her crotch pretending to share a similar pain in jest. “Ouchie.”


Mercy slid off the bed and crawled over to the front of the cage by Hank’s head. She reached through the small opening of the cage and grabbed on to either side of his mask. “Are you having a good time?” She forced the mask to nod yes. “Aww that’s so sweet. Do you want me to take your balls?” This time her forced head nod was met with some protest but she was still able to overpower him and nod the mask yes. “Awww ok….sweet puppy. Let’s take off that blindfold of yours.” With her right hand she undoes the buckle at the right side of the mask, causing the fabric to fall to the side and expose Hank’s eyes. His eyes are bloodshot and angry, she can see wrinkles between his eyebrows from his pain as his pupils adjust to the light.


“You see honey, I am not as soft-hearted as them. You will lose your balls and you will be able to see it happening. Now, you can watch as your balls turn black, shrivel and die. And just to make sure it happens…” Mercy reaches into her back pocket and produces a large combination lock and holds it up for Hank to see. Hank begins yelling once again into his gag and thrashing about as Mercy crawls over to the door of the cage, fastens the combination lock through the eye hole of the latch, and spins the combination mechanism for good measure.


She stands up and smiles proudly. “There we go. That should keep you busy.” She turns to face the door and wiggles her butt at Hank before walking away. She gets to the door and takes the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign off the interior door handle and opens the door. Hank yells as loud as he can into his gag when he sees the door is open, this is likely his last chance. He yells with everything he has, but at the front door it is only a hushed tone. Mercy closes the door behind her and it is completely silent outside once more.


She places the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the outside door handle and smiles. Mercy then reaches into her front pocket and pulls out the room key. (With a dump like this, they are still only using the old fashioned brass keys.) She puts the key in the hole on the door knob and locks the handle. She then places the key into the deadbolt and twists it, a **kachuck** can be heard as the heavy deadbolt enters the door frame. She looks around and finds a large rock in the rockbed below the window. She picks it up and smashes it into the key, breaking off the key inside the lock. “That ought to hold him,” she says quietly to herself, giggling. Mercy drops the rock into the rockbed where she found it and skips over to the truck to catch up with her friends.



(As always, please like and comment any and all feedback. It fuels my writing. Thank you!)