End of Days
TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION
The invaders celebrate by letting their camp followers sacrifice four captives to their blood lust.
End of Days.

I was taken prisoner at the end of the invasion. Our homes, our cities, our
country lay in ruins. They took me along with several dozen other prisoners to
a camp out in the desert, away from everything. We were herded into cages,
waiting uncertainly as the sun went down.

Once it was down, a detachment of female soldiers came into the cage, heavily-
armed. The leader, a young, dark-haired woman in her early twenties, looked
each one of us up and down like she was picking out favorite specimens.

Every now and then she nodded at a one of us and her subordinates would
separate that man from the rest, like culling a calf from the herd. She came
before me, looked me up and down, reaching up to touch the gray in my hair by
the temples.

She mumbled something unintelligible to her subordinate. Two of the soldiers
took me by each arm and pushed me into line. I was one of four men chosen.

They herded us from the holding pen into a metal building. It was hot inside,
but they soon opened up sliding metal walls on either side and turned on fans.
There was at least air movement. It was obvious they were planning something
special, but none of us knew what.

At one end of the building there was a wooden platform, mounted by steps from
either end. Big, wooden X’s were built onto the back wall of the platform.
They looked just about right for stretching people out. We felt a cold shiver
entirely apart from the heat in the building.

They led us into a smaller enclosure.

“Strip,” the young commandant demanded in English.

We weren’t sure we’d heard her right.

“Did she just speak English,” one of the men asked.

“Strip,” she ordered again. There was nothing casual about it.

The guards conspicuous pulled back the hammer on their pistols. We began to
strip. I took off everything except my socks, underwear, and t-shirt.

“Those too,” the commandant said, nodding to my remaining clothes.

“But . . . but . . .” I stammered.

This can’t be serious. No way.

It was. The guards put their guns to my head. I reached down very slowly,
trying not to provoke them, and pulled off my socks. Then I slid my underwear
down my legs, feeling the air against my bare genitals.

“Ladies,” I said, “I’m going to take my shirt off. I’ll have to move my arms.
Please don’t shoot.”

“Just do it slow,” the commandant replied.

I did. I was completely naked in front of them. By this time, so were the
other three guys.

The guards tied our hands behind our backs, then put ropes around our ankles.
We could move, but not much. They kept us like this while the building filled
with the women who had apparently followed the invading army.

When the place was packed, they started to lead us out. The crowd burst into
excitement as they did so, parting before us as the commandant led us from the
back of the building toward the platform. Some of the women standing by
reached out and touched us as we were led past. Some of the touches were
rough, made by callous, work-hardened hands on sensitive body parts.

The guy in front of me was dripping with sweat and shaking with fear by this
point. When a particularly large woman reached out and grabbed him by his
balls, he wrenched himself free from her grasp and tried to make a run for it.
One of the guards had a dagger which she plunged to the hilt into his solar
plexus.

He slumped to the ground, speechless, gasping in pain. Two of the guards
pushed him completely down, one standing on his arms and the other pinning his
legs. It was clear he wasn’t going to make it. All the color had drained out
of his face.

The commandant took out a dagger from under her uniform, lifted his genitals
up from his body, and cut them off. The man in front of them, seeing this,
fainted. She stood up and tossed the first man’s genitalia into a bucket
carried by one of her assistants. They plopped inside.

The commandant kneeled down over the man who had fainted, then did the same
thing to him. He awakened with a gasp of pain, then was immobilized and
gagged. The man in front of him tried to bolt, but was cut down by two
daggers. The commandant cut away his balls and cock. Another set of genitalia
plopped in the bucket.

Her hands were bloody by this time. An aide plopped the severed members into a
bucket. I stayed as motionless as possible, the two guards beside me holding
tight to my arms.

The commandant turned toward me with a savage expression.

“Don’t even think about it,” she sneered.

She motioned the guards to lead me up to the platform, which they did. I
stepped over the fallen bodies of two of the three men getting there.

I stumbled up the platform, feeling more like it was a dream than reality.
They led me across it to the second X from the left. They could have used any
of them, since there were four. I was the only survivor.

The guards spun me around to face the crowd. They tossed the ropes holding my
arms up to two others who leaned over the top of the platform. Both threaded
them through pulleys before tossing them back to my captors.

The guards pulled on the ropes, lifting my arms high over my head until I was
barely standing on tiptoes. Then they tied my arms to the upper part of the X.
The crowd shouted fiercely when this happened.

My legs were stretched out to the lower X, to the point that the tips of my
big toes barely touched the wood of the platform. The guards quickly strapped
both legs to the X from behind, running additional ropes around my stomach and
chest and pulling all of them tight. I felt them cutting off my circulation,
burning into my flesh.

Then some of the people in the crowd began to beat drums. The rest began to
dance, slowly at first, but gradually building to a frenzy. It must have gone
on for at least half an hour.

Some of them began to dance up onto the stage and touch my body. Some ran
their hands from the tops of my arms all the way down to my feet. A few jabbed
at me with sharpened fingers nails. Some gave quick blows with clenched fists.
I thought I might lose consciousness from the pain.

Suddenly they stopped. One of the guards brought a small hydraulic machine,
topped with what looked like a dildo. They put grease on the end of the dildo
and positioned the machine so its tip jabbed into my ass. Then they turned it
on.

It penetrated and vibrated in one motion, opening me up completely as it did
so. It was unlike anything I’d ever experienced, almost overwhelming. I felt
myself getting hard in spite of myself.

One of the guards reached over and covered my hardening genitals with her
hand. I felt her strong hand and unconsciously pushed forward against it. She
started to caress me.

At this moment the commandant came forward, her shirt open to reveal small,
dark breasts inside a white bra. She pulled her shirt completely out of her
pants, letting the shirt dangle open.

She got to her knees in front of me and began to fondle and suck my balls. The
other woman continued to caress my cock. The machine continued to open me up
from behind.

I couldn’t hold back the explosion building inside. The women in the crowd saw
the expression on my face and began to clap expectantly as it grew more
intense. I closed my eyes for a moment, fighting back the overwhelming sense
of pleasure. I couldn’t.

The commandant, while continuing to suck my balls, reached into her belt and
drew out her dagger. Her hand joined the hand of the other woman holding my
cock. I felt the commandant slide her thumb under my balls, taking my entire
throbbing genitalia into her hand.

The come felt like it was exploding from the depths of me. The orgasm was
total. I spurted semen over the face of the commandant, over the hands of both
women.

The commandant stood suddenly, her semen-covered, fierce face inches from my
own. I felt her hand pulling my sex organ out from my body. I felt the cold
steel at the root of my balls.

December 13, 2006

©2006, www.gradyfaust.com

All Rights Reserved

  

* * *