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 | He rolls around on the floor, moaning, telling me hes had enough. I decide when youve had enough, boy.
I stomp his crotch again and again, laughing as hes crying out in pain and begging me to stop. |
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 | | I continue mercilessly planting my size 12 foot into his junk--squeezing, squashing, pressing his nuts and cock, working them over until theyre menced meat. |
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| ”Please, sir, I...I’ve had e..enough,” he muttered as he looked up at me, words coming out just as broken as he was, trying to breath, moaning in pain, hoping I would stop this torture. He had tears in his eyes. |
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 | | I dropped to the mat, grabbed up his legs, pinned his shoulders with the weight of my upper body, not that it was at all necessary, and pounded out what to him must have been the most agonizing 3 count he had ever experienced. I laughed as I got back to my feet. |
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 | Looking down at my victim, I laughed a bit more, then told him what a fool I thought he was, what a sorry excuse of a man he was, and asked him why he even considered this match or considered himself a wrestler for that matter.
”Who’s the man here, boy?”
”You are,” he muttered.
”Damn straight, boy!” |
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