“Thank you so much for coming!” Eve said, smiling at the tall girl.
“Uh…well…thank you for putting on this event and for donating your son’s test….err time. I really did learn a lot,” the girl responded, her face slightly red with embarrassment.
The girl wasn’t this shy before when she was driving her knee-guard over and over again into Bobby’s nut sack, Eve thought to herself. The new ones always seem to get like this afterwards though.
“Oh don’t worry about it. I was happy to donate Bobby’s testicles,” Eve responded, watching the girls face turn an even deeper shade of red as she stuttered her thanks again and left.
As if in answer to Eve’s comment, there came an agonized groan from the corner of the stage.
And just how are those poor testicles? Eve wondered to herself.
Eve had barely been able believe it when, after they had packed the steal-toed boot away, Bobby had still lay conscious, though absolutely hysterical, on the stage block. She never would have guessed he would still have the energy to shriek after the 3rd booted kick, much less the 30th. Even with four years experience torturing the hapless boy, his ability to suffer unthinkable pain still managed to astonish her sometimes.
So, when the booting was done, a conscious Bobby had come as quite a pleasant surprise; the girls could have more fun with him. Instead of carrying a comatose boy to the car as Eve had initially planned, she had let the girls drag a conscious, though thoroughly pain-wracked, boy over to the corner of the stage where Eve had left the little box of toys she had brought from home. Inside the box were hammers, thumbtacks, several staplers, some leather belts, and a variety of footwear.
Eve had explained how class was over, but if the girls wanted they could stay longer and play some more with Bobby. She however cautioned them to go easy on Bobby. With 30 bewildered faces looking at her, she added that she had forgotten the smelling salts at home.
They must have gone somewhat easy on Bobby (easy being relative) as that had been an hour and a half ago and the boy was still conscious. Even now, at 1:30 in the morning, eight girls still remained on stage, doing their best to mangle the boy’s sexual organs.
Eve strolled over to the side of the stage to see how things were going. Bobby lay butt-naked, spread-eagle on the stage. The only part of him that was covered was his head, wrapped in the tattered remnants of his uniform from the bridge of his nose upward. Eve remembered how the girls had asked to strip him almost immediately after the end of class, then how they had all screamed and giggled upon finally seeing Bobby’s bulbous, 15 inch prick.
Girls will be girls, Eve thought with chuckle.
One girl currently sat on Bobby’s chest, her knees on his arms to keep him from squirming. Two other girls held Bobby’s legs open. While these three were busy keeping Bobby in the place, the others we tormenting the boy in a variety of different ways.
Tina was wielding a leather belt, which she was working up the underside of Bobby’s cock. She must have been at it a while, because the bottom of the boy’s cock could hardly have looked more red.
Another girl, also wielding a belt, was smashing the buckle down hard down into Bobby’s massive cockhead. The gigantic, mushroom-shaped piece of meat was already covered in bruises. The two seemed to have fallen into a rhythm, alternating blows that caused the meaty rod to continue wobbling about violently.
While those two saw to Bobby’s penis, two others were paying attention to the boy’s fleshy orbs. One girl had found a high-heeled stiletto in the box, and was pumping her foot up and down into Bobby’s right testicle, switching between trying to stab the huge, fleshy sphere with the heel of the shoe and trying to grind it into the stage with the toe.
Holly was kneeling by Bobby’s other nut, with a large container of thumbtacks in hand. Methodically, one after another, she worked the bits of sharp, pointy metal into the nut, as deep as they would go.
Melanie was the only one not actively torturing the victim. Instead, she simply kneeled by Bobby’s head, looking down at Bobby, a far away look in her eye.
I would almost think she felt sorry for him, if I didn’t know better. No, there is no sympathy there, that girl is enthralled with his pain. Right now she is trying to imagine what he is feeling, no doubt daydreaming of other cruelties to inflict. Eve smiled to herself. I should know after all. I’m told I get the same look watching Bobby and the neighbor girls play. She looked closely at the girl and her smile broadened. She is definitely the one I’m looking for.
Eve stopped twenty feet away from the scene. She didn’t want to come any closer and make the girls feel self-conscious. They just looked like they were having so much fun.
Bobby, the star of the show, lay there in a constantly writhing state. The whole uncovered portion of his face was one big mess of snot and drool. He had cried so much that there was even visible wetness on his makeshift blindfold. He was no longer shrieking though, as he was too breathless to do so. The pain he was suffering, coming from every direction, was so constant that he wasn’t able to take in more than a gasp of air at a time, rendering him almost mute. The only sound he made was his constant labored panting for air, coupled with the occasional, high-pitched squeak.
Poor boy, poor little boy, Eve couldn’t help thinking. Still, it is for the best. It has to be this way. And let’s not pretend I don’t enjoy it either. That I don’t love it, need it. Those late nights, after I just spent the day beating him to a pulp, how long do I sit there in bed with my notebooks? Just lying there, dreaming up all kinds of new and terrible things to do to him. And doesn’t my free hand always, eventually, gravitate down my leg to my sopping wet…
“Ms. Black?”
“Oh! Sorry Tina, was just thinking about something,” Eve responded somewhat startled.
Eve hadn’t noticed Tina walk over. The rest of the girls appeared to still be hard at work. Holly and the girl with the belt had switched positions. Holly was now hard at work shoving a ring of thumbtacks into the bruised meat surrounding Bobby’s plugged cock-hole, while the girl with the belt was swinging the buckle down ferociously into Bobby bloated, left testicle, which made a sickening thud sound upon impact. Melanie had once again joined the festivities, and was busy slapping Bobby hard across the face; his cheeks were already turning bright red.
“I have to be going Ms. Black, but I just wanted to thank you again for this evening. I had so much fun!” Tina said with a big smile on her face.
“Call me Eve,” the older woman responded, “and it was no trouble at all. It was my pleasure.”
“Well, it really was a awesome. And I learned so much. I just can’t wait until the next time some boy gives me crap,” Tina said with a chuckle.
“Now, now, Tina. What did I tell you all at the end of class?” Eve began. “You don’t want to go scaring all the cute boys away, do you? What you learned tonight is only for self-defense…and for Bobby.”
She looked briefly over to the scrawny, naked boy being brutally tortured on the stage. He is made for it, she thought to herself.
“Anytime you feel like spending a little time with Bobby,” Eve continued, “just let me know. I’d be happy to have you over to the house. And believe me, we have a lot more fun toys there.”
“Thank you so much,” Tina cried, and lunged forward giving Eve a big hug.
“No problem, no problem,” Eve said with a chuckle. “But…uh…remember if you mother should ask you anything about…”
“Don’t worry, Eve. I promise you my mother won’t be upset,” Tina interrupted. “Anyways, goodnight!”
“Goodnight Tina.” I hope your right about your mother. The last thing I want to do is upset the head of the school board.
Eve looked at the clock on the far side of the auditorium. It was almost 2:00am; it was time to go.
Eve walked over to her naked and twitching son and the seven girls still beating him.
“I hate to say it girls,” Eve began, “but it’s getting late.”
The girls sighed with disappointment and climbed off Bobby. Eve said her goodbyes to each girl while Bobby lay on the stage moaning and gasping for air.
Melanie was the last girl to say goodbye. When Eve approached her she could tell Melanie was nervous.
“You did a very good job tonight,” Eve began.
“…thanks…thank you.” Melanie said, looking down at her feet.
“Do you currently have a job?” Eve asked.
“Um…no.” Melanie responded, somewhat confused by the question. “I’m just trying to finish school so I can go on to college.”
“How would you like a job like what you did tonight?” Eve said. “You’ve certainly shown you have the skills, and you could still go to school at the same time.”
“I…I don’t understand,” Melanie stammered, even more confused.
“Well, I need someone to help with Bobby’s therapy, to be his aide.” Eve explained.
“So you mean…I’d be…?” she looked over at Bobby, now laying in a fetal position, his enormously swollen testicles laying on the stage behind his butt. She turned back to Eve, looking her in the eyes for the first time. Eve could see fervent excitement in the young girl’s face.
“Yes,” Eve replied softly. “But you don’t have to give me an answer tonight. I’m having a holiday party on the evening of the 23rd, you should come. We can discuss the offer in greater detail then.”
Eve stepped forward and Melanie met her. They embraced in a short hug.
“Thank you…for everything,” Melanie said softly, and then left for the door.
She’s the one, Eve thought, as she watched Melanie go. She is so much like me. She has the same…enthusiasm.
“Well camera crew,” Eve said, turning away from her thoughts, “should we pack it up?”
“Sure thing,” answered Rachel. She looked over at Bobby, who was crying softly, still curled up on the stage. “What a night it was! And we got it all on tape.”
All on tape, thought Eve. For some reason that made her extremely excited. Nine hours of carnage I can watch over and over again. Why didn’t I do this sooner!? Nine hours of pain I can show to everyone Bobby knows. Nine hours I can post on the internet and have strangers watch. Above all, nine hours I can make Bobby watch. For some reason that made her the most excited. Could I find a reason that he has to sit on my lap while we watch it together? Maybe also an excuse for me to massage his throbbing, though ultimately plugged-up, flesh pole all nine hours long?
“Wow, they look like there going to burst,” said Alex. “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen them bigger!” While Eve was lost in thought, Alex had moved over to Bobby and was now tapping his bulbous testicles with the toe of her shoe. Bobby just groaned.
I’m not sure I’ve ever seen them bigger either, thought Eve. Even that evening three long weeks ago, when I beat him all night long, his testicles hadn’t looked quite as bad. I remember thinking they might have been basketball size then, somewhere between that and a volleyball, but now they certainly the size of at least two children’s basketballs.
She took a couple steps closer to get a better look. Just look at them; they’re huge! They’re the most sensitive parts of my step-son’s body, the parts of him that makes him a man, and every inch of them is covered in bruises and welts, scrapes and scratches, not to forget the occasional thumbtack. Even now, after it’s all over, the pain must be incredible! I can’t even begin to imagine what that poor boy is going through right now. It seemed to Eve that there was something wonderful about that. Something so very tantalizing about the thought that she never would, or even could, experience a fraction of the pain and suffering that had been inflicted on her son that night alone.
“Hold on a second,” Eve said excitedly over to Rachel who was still by the camera. “Could you get it running again?”
“Sure, no problem,” Rachel replied, somewhat confused.
Eve had had the idea earlier in the evening, but had dismissed it as something for her notebooks, some dark fantasy to be written down and stored away. But, something in that moment told her she had to do it.
She walked over Bobby, and grabbed her naked son by the ankles. He gave one long, pitiable wail. And, while there was no intelligible syllable in that wail, the meaning was incredibly clear, “Oh god, please no more!”
He was silent as she dragged him the rest of the way to the foot of the stage block. She gently knelt down beside him and unwrapped the tattered uniform from his face. He looked up through red, tearful eyes. “Mommy?” he asked.
She wait a moment for a question or plea, but it never came.
“Can you do something for mommy,” Eve asked?
“Of course…anything for you mommy,” he replied, whimpering with the knowledge there was more suffering in store for him.
“Good boy,” she said softly. That was she needed to know. She raised her hand and slapped him hard across his already red cheek. Then again, backhanded, across the other side of his face.
She got up and left her son spread-eagle, without a scrap of clothing on him, and with her fingerprints still on his face. She walked over to where the box of toys lay and ruffled through the box until she found the footwear she was looking for.
Her legs began to tremble as she sat down on the stage to put the shoes on. The area between her legs, which had already been sopping wet hours ago, was becoming warm, so very warm.
She stood and walked shakily back to the stage block with her metal, baseball cleats. Her extra thick underwear, which she specifically wore for that night, must have reached their max absorbency, because she could feel a strand of thick warm fluid slowly trickle down her left leg.
It’s for the best, she thought, as she walked back up to Bobby with increasingly wobbly legs. He needs more. The fact he’s still conscious means he needs more. And, the doctor said he could have one more release. Plus the girls will love it. I’ve never let anyone see this before, but they deserve it after all their hard work tonight.
For all her reasoning and justifications, she stood over Bobby hesitating, looking down at his mangled genitals with pity. To continue would give her so much pleasure, and Bobby so much pain. Maybe he had had enough, maybe it was time to call it a night.
As she stood there, grappling with indecision, her thoroughly pulverized son looked up at her and, fully realizing what she was about to do, asked, “Are my legs spread wide enough, mommy?”
Oh how I love him, she thought as she slammed her first into his gut, causing him to wail as his whole body convulsed.
“No!” She hissed, roughly kicking his thighs further apart. What a wonderful son I have, a wonderful freak of a son. She then reached down and yanked the plug out of Bobby’s beaten and bloody cock-head with one swift motion, large strands of penis drool coming with. The mangle member bobbed about, slapping globs of precum onto Bobby’s chest and stomach. It eventually stopped its tortured dance, and returned to its pulsating, thirty degree angle, still dribbling on the boy’s body like a leaky faucet.
Eve climbed unsteadily onto the stage block. Her legs were like rubber, and the flesh between them was hot, so wonderfully hot. She looked down at her battered and beaten step-son, who lay beneath her shaking with fear. Tears rolled from his eyes and his lips trembled. There was no pity in Eve, though. Whatever little had remained after the past four years had vanished that night. This is his place. This is what he was made for, to entertain me and all the other women in his life with his pain. To suffer while we laugh at him. To thank us while we beat him. To beg us, knowing full well that he won’t receive mercy.
“Ready or not, here mommy comes,” Eve said with a big grin on her face, and leapt off the stage block. It took only a fraction of a second for Eve’s muscular, 170 lbs frame to come down, spiked cleats first, onto Bobby’s horribly bloated sexual organs. The metal spikes did their job, driving deep enough into Bobby’s testicles to prevent the tender, swollen orbs from escaping elsewhere into Bobby’s inflamed scrotum. So, squish went Bobby’s balls.
There could be no doubt that Bobby had recovered his breath from his previous ordeal. The boy’s upper-body shot up, and he let out a long, blood-curdling howl. The sheer agony in his wail, coupled with the amazing feeling of Bobby’s manhood flattened beneath her, was too much for Eve. Here mommy cums, she thought, as she bit her bottom lip.
The girls were right there videotaping everything, but there was nothing Eve could do; she only hoped they wouldn’t notice. Thankfully, Bobby’s continued shrieking drowned out her own moans, as she stood on top of her son’s crushed nuts having a mind-blowing orgasm.
After a minute or more of sheer pleasure, Eve regained enough composure to return her attention to Bobby, still wailing beneath her feet. Her son’s meaty prick was rock hard and wriggling like a fish out of water against the boy’s chest, smearing goo everywhere. That’s when she began twisting her ankles, grinding the boy’s spiked meat into the floor.
The screams for mercy stopped and the boy’s mouth went slack. Eve went right on twisting. Bobby’s ridiculous cock stopped flopping about and got harder yet (if that was even possible). Eve continued to grind. Bobby’s eyes rolled back in his head and he began to fall back to the stage. Realizing the opportunity, Eve caught him by hair with her left hand and held him sitting upright, all the while her ankles still turned this way and that.
Now Eve hadn’t actually measured Bobby’s fluids since before his 17th birthday, when she decided measuring it had become far too messy. It was much easier to just have Bobby blow his mess on the floor of the barn. But, as far as Eve could recall at the present moment, the last time she had measured, the end result had been just shy of about one and a half liters of semen. With this statistic in mind, she used her right hand to aim the tip of her son’s flesh cannon in between the boy’s own, parted lips.
The beaten and bruised organ twitched once more and then exploded. Out of it erupted a massive geyser of white fluid. A raging stream of his own milk smashed Bobby in the face so hard that Eve almost lost her hold of his hair. The cream gushed down the boy’s throat until his mouth could hold no more, and it began to pour from his lips. Bobby began to gurgle and choked on his own seed. When a second jet of hot fluid shot down Bobby’s throat, two white streams of liquid began to pour out of his nose.
Eve aimed the fleshy hose higher, and let the next several torrents of white gush into Bobby’s eyes and hair. She then let his slime-caked head fall to the stage floor with a splat. His meaty prick wasn’t done though, and it proceed to drop another several cups of jizz onto the boy’s quivering body. All the while, Eve kept grinding, only stopping once she had mashed out the last ounce of spunk.
She stepped off her son’s balls and looked down at the carnage. She smiled, each of her son testicles, the symbol of his manhood, had her shoe print in it; there was something very fitting about that. From several places where the metal spikes had broken the skin, trickles of blood flowed down the mangled orbs.
Eve shifted her gaze to Bobby’s dick meat. The boy’s prick was just as enormous as always and still drooling. Hope that monstrous thing is somewhat satisfied, because this is the last relief it’s going to get any time soon. She smiled, Actually, I really don’t care.
She drew her foot back and gave Bobby’s dick a hard kick in the head, causing it to wobble about wildly. To her amazement, Bobby let out a groan. Still awake, her smile broadened, poor, sweet boy. My poor, sweet plaything. She walked behind the stage curtain and found what she was looking for. She walked back out and handed it to Alex.
“Be a dear, and make sure Bobby cleans up,” she told Alex, who still had a stunned look on her face. “I’m going to go pack up the truck.”
“Oh…ok,” Alex responded, her eyes still starring in disbelief at the brutally beaten boy laying in a lake of his own juices.
“I…I’ll go get him a mop,” ventured Megan, who seemed equally stunned.
“Nonsense,” Eve responded. “Don’t trouble yourself with that. He has a tongue.” Even as she said it, she could feel the warmth returning.
Eve walked from the auditorium as quick as she could, her legs feeling more and more like jelly with every step. She had just rounded the corner of the hallway when she heard the first shriek echo from the stage; Alex had applied the cattle prod. By time she heard the second scream, her pants were unbuttoned. She had two fingers between her swollen lips in time for her step-son’s third wail of agony.
She stood there for several minutes of pure bliss, leaning against the wall, hand rubbing, hips thrusting. All the while she tried to picture what was happening on stage, her tortured son crawling around the stage weeping, dragging his mangled balls behind him, trying to lick up his own filth, never knowing when the next searing jolt of electricity would fry his genitals. Wonderful, absolutely wonderful.
It was another couple minutes before Eve had composed herself enough to walk again. She moved briskly down the hallway towards the exit, screams still echoing behind her. When she finally stepped outside, the cold air felt good on her sweaty face. She made her way to the truck and unlocked the passenger door. After rummaging around the glove box for a moment, she found what she was looking for, a fresh pair of black panties.
