Stealing His Balls

Warning: Features magical (non-gory) castration, cfnm, and ballbusting

I almost crashed into him while he was getting out of the women’s restroom. He filled the doorframe with his body, one hand pulling up his pants while the other shoved his still erect, still dripping penis back into his clothes. The whitish fluid dripped from his engorged cock head like snot, tainting the floor with splatters.

“Excuse me,” he said with a taunting snicker. His face twisted into a smile in reaction to mine curling with disgust.

He pushed his way past me, zipping up his fly.

The receptionist, Dorothy, followed behind him. She teetered on wobbly legs, her hair sticking up, frizzy. She giggled at me and waddled away from the restroom and in the direction of her desk.

Inside, the stall they used was a mess. Her juices covered the toilet seat and the floor. Crumbled balls of sticky, globby toilet paper littered the entirety of the stall. They clung to the stall walls, his cum like glue. The restroom reeked with the hormonal, sweaty bitter stink of sex.

Face spasming around my gritted teeth, I decided it was time for revenge.

***

He was chatting at the watercooler with one of the men from sales the next day. I beelined to my office, the box under my arm, trying not to grin the whole way.

It didn’t look like a special box, but it was. It was black and solid and just big enough that you had to hold it with both hands. I placed it on my desk and locked my office door.

By leaning forward, I could see through the window in front of my desk and down the hall to the water cooler. I smiled, my eyes focusing on bulge in the front of his slacks.

Taking the sides of the box with just my fingertips, I turned it, clockwise, counterclockwise, and then counterclockwise again.

The crotch of his pants subtly, almost imperceptibly, deflated. The bulge vanished.

His eyes grew huge immediately. His stance widened, his knees separating to accommodate the sudden enormous emptiness between his legs. He stared down at his crotch, his mouth moving, the stubble on his face rippling with his confused face flesh even though no words would come out.

The man from sales noticed, his expression, but not what was missing from inside his pants.

“Are you all right?”

“f-FIInEe!” his voice cracked, suddenly very high pitched, and a hand clamped over his mouth.

“Fine! It’s all fine,” he said, struggling to fight the shrill wavering that infected his voice.

“e-ExcuUUse me…” he pushed past the man from sales, hunched and knees spread out, his body shuddering from its sudden, impossible lacking. The fabric of his pants and underwear no doubt felt very, very loose.

He waddled past my office, and past the boardroom window, drawing odd looks from a few of the people holding their meeting inside, before ducking inside the men’s room at the other end of the hall.

I waited, brain bristling with anticipation.

“AAIIIEEEAAGGHH!!!”

His high pitched wail echoed out from the restroom. The people in the meeting turned in their heads in the general direction of the girly scream. The man from sales almost dropped his cup of water. People leaned out of their cubicles in utter confusion.

I chuckled, glowing. I settled down in my chair and touched the box with my nails, slowly lifting the lid with my fingertips.

His dick and balls sat inside, magically separated from his body. His dick looked like an imitation, a large and floppy fleshy dildo. His balls looked like a hairy, wrinkled little sack, the shape of his testicles like fat eggs inside of it.

His dick, all on its own, pulsed and twitched, wriggling along the base of the box, growing and stretching like some horrific alien mollusk. His foreskin peeled back as it grew, the purplish head swelling. It was enough to make you sick.

Using a tissue and two fingers, I removed the twitching object from the box and dropped it into a desk drawer.

The balls I left in the box.

I replaced the lid and unlocked my door. Grabbing a random manilla folder so that I looked like I was delivering reports I made my way down the hall in the direction of the men’s room. I walked slowly, letting my mind swirl, imagining what was happening behind that door as it grew larger with each step.

Was his sitting on the toilet, weeping the loss of his ugly, monstrous genitals. Did he even make it to the toilet? Was the terror too much and he dropped his pants in front of the sinks, lifting his shirt up and presenting his new smoothness to the mirror?

My daydreams were interrupted by the restroom door opening. His small, shuddering form crept into the doorframe. He was drenched in sweat.

“There you are!”

I leaned against the wall, covered by a potted plant as Dorothy click-clacked on her heels from around the corner. His head whipped at her, his tie flapping in the air. She caught it in her hand, pulling on it like a lease.

“Come on! The copy room is… unoccupied…” she said in a drunken, sing song voice, pulling him away.

“d-DOR-Dorothy-!” he squawked. Sweat stained the back of his suit, dripping off him in wet shame.

I followed, manilla folder in hand, trying to keep up with her energetic pace, her feet sounding like a horny typewriter on the marble floors.

“Don’t tell me you’ve lost your nerve!” she laughed.

“it’s-it’s no-nnn…” he stammered, dragged forward and practically flung into the copy room. The door slammed shut.

I rushed forward, ready to open the door just a sliver and spy through, but there was the ca-chunking sound of the door being locked with a key from the inside. Frowning, I retreated a few feet away down the hall, just far enough where I could still hear.

I could have been on the other side of the building, she was so loud.

“OHMYGAWD!” she screamed. The door practically rattled in the frame.

Her scream was immediately followed by loud, cackling crow laughter, a machinegun of humiliation penetrating the office walls.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

The door burst open and Dorothy tottered out, an enormous smile on her face. She was rebutting her blouse. She walked away, still laughing, a sadistic cloud of noise following her.

He stumbled out of the copy room, fighting at his belt, face completely red. He powerwalked back to his office, face down, avoiding my eyes and the staring eyes of everyone else in the office. Only I know what Dorothy probably saw in that copy room, the only one that knew that his prized dick and balls were sitting comfortably at my desk.

***

The quarterly meeting was this afternoon. From my desk, I could see right through the window and into the meeting room. He was presenting, standing in front of the board of directors, aiming his laser pointer at his PowerPoint projected behind him.

“So, as you can see, profits have grown a lot this qUaRtERr…” his voice broke on the last word, turning into a manic windchime. The board members decided to ignore it. It was some sort of laryngitis, they probably thought.

He still looked nervous, obviously distraught, but he was coping, and that’s no fun.

I opened up the box. Reaching inside, I grabbed his detached ballsack, gripping it in my hand, fingers tightening around it.

He stiffened. The phantom sensations traveled back to his body from his magically dismembered nuts. His bottom lip flapped open like a fish. The CEO, sitting right next to him at the end of the table, cleared his throat, commanding him to continue.

“So, ughh… This trend is expected to continue into next ye-eeEEEAHG…” hand on his hips, he leaned forward, neck muscles tensing, eyes widening. My hand twisted and rolled his eggs, treating his testicles like a stress ball. The skin was surprisingly soft, delicate.

I closed my hand around them in a sudden fist.

“OHHhhGHHH… oh my god..!!” he lurched forward, voice squeaking, slamming his palms on the table, doubling over as nauseating strength sapping pain from his stolen balls coursed through his crotch.

“What the hell is it, man? Are you all right?” the CEO said. He seemed annoyed. The other people at the table seemed concerned. Their heads spun around as if looking for answered. None of them bothered to look across the hall and into my office.

“itt’ss fine….” he said, coughing, forcing his voice to deepen. “Just a cramp.”

Holding his balls in one left palm, I slammed my right fist into them like a hammer.

“AAUUGHHG! SHITTT!!” he squealed. His body twisted, knees knocking together, body seizing up. His hands twitched and spasmed in front of him. He seemed determined not to grab at himself, determined to avoid becoming the clichéd image of the crotch-grabbing howling man mocked by hundreds of years of pop culture.

I punched his balls again.

“FFUUAAAAHHH!!!” he wailed, like opera, arms flapping in front of him as he curled into himself, barely standing on his wobbling knees.

“GET THIS MAN TO A DOCTOR!” the CEO barked, his tone more out of annoyance than concern.

“NO!” he squawked. “it’ll pass….”

I held his balls pinched in my fingernails, dangling them over my steaming hot cup of coffee.

DUNK

“AAAAIIIOOWWWWW!!!”

There his hands went. Cupping his non-existent burning balls, with clawed hands, he hopped in place, hissing and howling, sweating, and turning bright red.

“IIITTTBURRRNNSS!!!” he wailed.

I splashed his balls again and again into the black coffee, each one making him dance and scream in front of the horrified, confused boardroom before he slammed his chest against the table, folding the top half of his body over it, his legs kicking against the floor, knees knocked together, hands still clutching at nothing.

“MY BAAAALLLSSS!!!” he shrieked.

A few members of the boardroom covered their mouths to avoid snorting at his horrific testicle torture.

I dropped the steaming, coffee coated ballsack back on my desk. It was time, I decided, for the finale. I pointed my finger at him, aiming through my window and through the window of the boardroom. It had been forever since I’ve used my telekinesis, not since I worked in that clothing store.

His body jerked to attention, standing upright. His hands started moving, yanked away from his crotch and shifting around like the hands of a marionette as I tried to get my bearings. I aimed them downward, making them grip his belt buckle and start to unfasten it.

“WHAT the HELL do you think you’re doing?!” the CEO screamed at him.

“It’s not MEEEE!!” he wailed.

With a tug, I made him hop onto the table, his shoes slamming against wood with a thunderous slam. Everyone in the meeting gasped and recoiled. Coffee mugs fell off the table and shattered on the floor.

“GET DOWN FROM THERE THIS INSTANT!” the CEO demanded.

“I’M NOT DOING IT!” he shrieked. His hands fought my control, his muscles struggling against my control, but his belt still came undone, his slacks slipping down his legs, his boxer briefs on display. The boardroom was equal parts stunned, horrified, and laughing.

In his wide eyes, I could see that he knew what was going to happen next.

I yanked his boxer briefs and pants down to his ankles with telekinesis, and then, grabbing his legs, I slammed him back-first onto the table. His body crashed onto the table. His hairy bubble butt slammed and jiggled. His legs were forced far apart, spread open complete.

Everyone at the table gasped in unison. They all stared between his legs at his missing dick and balls, at the hair mound of his crotch, featureless except for tiny lips, an almost-pussy, covering his urethra.

“Don’t look!!!” his voice was completely high pitched now, giving way completely.

Horrific nightmare laughter broke out from the most horrible members of the board room while others turned their faces away in embarrassment and still others stared at him, unblinking and bug-eyes.

Hands over his crotch he struggled to his feet, muscular legs bare, asscheeks rippling.

“DoOON’T!!”

Phones were coming out of pockets and purses to record their dickless, half naked coworker.

And then the door opened.

“Who wants donut holes?!” it was Dorothy, oblivious, standing in the boardroom doorway with a box of donut holes in one hand. Her face fell, slowly, as she saw her boyfriends naked ass staring.

Reaching out with my telekinesis, I grabbed him by his hips and flung him backwards, ass-first, right toward her face. “AAAIIIEEEE!!!” Dorothy screamed in terror, man-ass rocketing toward her at the speed of sound.

CRASSSHHH

He looked down confused, then horrified. He was sitting on her still-screaming face. His crotch in her mouth, his fat ass smothering her face.

“MMNnPPHHH!!” she screamed into him, kicking and flailing her arms.

He tried to get up, but I had other ideas. I moved him, grinding his hips his almost-pussy, into her face, riding her with his sweaty, hairy body, smearing his musk into her.

“Ohhh OH SHIT…!” he gasped, turning violently red, her mouth mushing against his sensitive new mound, angry protests turning into oral sex as I made him hum her face.

“GET OFF OF HER THIS INSTANT!” the CEO screamed.

“I-I CA-AAhhnnNN’T!” he came, shuddering, his body spasming on top of her, his asscheeks violently clapping against her sobbing face even as the other board members grabbing at his arms and tried to pull him off of her.

I chuckled and closed the blinds of my office windows.

That’s a lesson that both of them aren’t going to forget any time soon.

Then I heard it, the squelching, the pumping.

Heart racing, I pulled open my desk drawer.

His forgotten dick was violently pumping, spraying, shot gunning cum onto the inside of my desk drawer. An arc of white goo splashed out, almost hitting me in the face.

I slammed the drawer shut, trying to ignore the pumping sounds of ejaculating, wriggling penis.

That’s going to be a pain in the ass to clean up, I thought to myself.