Controlling His Balls
A collie with an obsession with balls plays with his lamb. Utterly dominating him for his own twisted pleasures.
The lamb looked delectable to Cuillin, helpless as he was on his hands and knees. The collie grabbed the lamb's balls roughly, holding them in his paw, weighing them in his hand as if they were eggs to be bought. This ram belonged to him, this lamb's very manhood belonged to him, and squeezing its balls only emphasised that total ownership. Their bulging nature in the palm of his paw demonstrating only one thing: this collie, this creature bred for dominating sheep, had pure and utter control.
The lamb's balls were big and red, stretched away from his body by the humbler he had to endure. The ram could only kneel due to the wooden planks that trapped his testicles between his legs. Stuck in this humiliating position, it exposed his most sensitive parts entirely to the dog. Mentally and physically, the lamb was the collie's subordinate, to be herded and dominated.
Cuillin loved humblers, he loved the way that those trapped in them were in a state of eternal grovelling, and he loved how exposed they made the balls, the most vulnerable part of the male species on display for all to witness. The power of having control over one's balls gave him a rush of testosterone and adrenaline, it was a high of pure domination.
For effect, Cuillin gave the lamb's bulbous sack a tight squeeze, bringing out a tepid bleat from his charge.
"Who gave you permission to speak," mocked the collie, gripping his muscular hand around the lamb's neck, "apologize to your master."
"I'm-I'm sorry, master" the lamb responded meekly, his youthful doe eyes filled with fear and respect, "I'm sorry for my outburst."
"That's right," the collie replied, giving another squeeze for effect, eliciting a shiver from the ram. "You talk when I say so. You do what I say. And you present that boy-pussy to me when I want to breed your ass."
A single deft digit began to stroke the anus of the ram, slowly circling it, sometimes rough, sometimes soft. The collie's palm explored the lamb's balls and his taint, enjoying the feeling of power and humiliation he wielded. The smell of sex and fear in the air was delectable.
"In many ways you're disgusting," the collie growled at the lamb, "better men than you have died before their time. Better men have died before they've even hit puberty; great men who could have been doctors, teachers, leaders..." the Collie trailed off in thought for a moment.
"But you?" He continued, "what gave you the right to go through puberty, what gave you the right to have the body of a man? To breed with that tiny dick of yours?"
The collie's grip was rough again, pulling the testicles uncomfortably away from the lamb's body. With his other large hand he spanked them lightly; making the lamb shudder with shock with every tap on his sensitive testes.
"You don't deserve this gift," the collie growled, "you have no right to become a man like me."
"Y-yes master," the lamb was visibly shaking, his arms were tired of grovelling, but he knew he must endure if he were to please his owner. The very thought of displeasing that muscular, musky collie made his stomach feel like a pit of dread.
"We could tighten the nuts on your humbler," Cuillin mused, "treat you like your sheep ancestors, make you a gelding." The collie was softly stroking the lamb's balls now, treating them kindly and delicately like a pair of prized Fabergé Eggs, "I hear they wrap a tight elastic band around your balls, cut off the blood flow. I hear the pain of your balls dying lasts for days, even when they're already dead. We could make you my complete little sissy."
The lamb was visibly shaking now, through fear or discomfort it was hard to tell. Panic coursed through him at the thought of losing his precious manhood.
"I'm only joking, pet," cooed the collie, mocking the lamb's visible fear, "I could never control you as well as I do without these worthless balls hanging from your tiny, phimotic, dick." For emphasis the collie unclasped the humbler, tying a leash around the scrotum of his charge. The collie tugged hard, eliciting a small whimper from the lamb, "come here and worship your master," Cuillin growled, sitting down in his chair.
The lamb crawled hurriedly on its hands and knees, until his face was inches from his master's manhood.
"What am I?" The collie asked.
"A real man," the ram stuttered, "with a man's dick. A big red dick with a giant knot and thick veins. An alpha with a real, exposed, dick." He was speaking directly to the big red, intimidating member, eliciting a smile from the collie as the sheep's breath tickled the sensitive organ.
"And what are you?" The collie asked again.
"A sissy with a sissy's dick," the lamb recited, without even a hint of embarrassment, "a sissy undeserving of manhood. With a tiny phimotic dick who can't expose his glands like a real man because his dick is worthless and his foreskin is too tight."
Satisfied, Cuillin leaned back expectantly. "Worship," he growled.
The lamb's youthful maw encompassed his master's giant balls. He could barely fit them both in his mouth, but deftly he licked and suckled upon them; his nose buried at the base of Cuillin's formidable cock. With his other slim hand the lamb began to stroke his master's dick as he worshipped a real male's balls; looking directly at the collie's face at all times with his cute "come fuck me" doe-eyes.
Cuillin grinned as he looked down at his charge and his ample skill, "this is what a real man tastes like," he murmured.
The lamb rolled one testicle in his mouth, savouring the flavour, tugging on it with his lips as if his increased attention was some form of agreement, a surrender to a true male. Cuillin audibly groaned at this manipulation of his manhood.
The lamb let go of the warm moist testicles he was suckling upon, moving his full attention to his master's cock. His warm wet mouth nuzzled the red tower, rubbing it all over his face as if wanted its precum, its very scent, all over his youthful face. Satisfied he was suitably anointed, the lamb slowly licked the member from base to tip, his raspy tongue circling the sensitive organ.
Cuillin roughly grabbed the lamb by his curly hair, pushing the slave's maw down further onto his engorged dick. There was a moment of coughing and spluttering, as the lamb had difficult adjusting to the dog's impressive size. Then, relaxing his throat, the lamb could swallow the organ whole. The ram's tongue and lips licked the ballsack of his master while the collie began to fuck his throat.
"You've got a good mouth-pussy," the collie whispered, "this is what you were bred for. I tell you what to do and where to go. It's in your nature."
The lamb's bobbing became more intensified, his lips and tongue could barely fit over the knot now forming in the dog's cock, he could barely take the entire thing whole.
Cuillin's cock began to throb, and his balls tighten closer to his body, he could feel his impeding orgasm was now upon its pinnacle.
"Stop," he growled.
The lamb looked up surprised, his mouth hanging open and tongue out. There was a clear trail of saliva leading from his hungry mouth to the dog's moist dick.
"I told you before," the collie growled, "I'm breeding your boy-pussy. Don't you dare try to get off that easily."
Cuillin stood up, his sweat covered muscles flexing in the light. He tugged roughly on the leash to the lambs balls, pulling him into the other room. "Let's see how your siblings are doing, shall we?" The collie asked.
The charge meekly followed through the door, watching as his brothers squirmed feebly in their restraints. There were two other lambs in the room, making a total of three in all. All rams looked identical in every way: lithe and beautiful, with soft wool. They possessed a young, innocent, and androgynous appearance; yet they were undeniably male; there was a muscle tone which did show a hint of a swimmer's build. Despite their beauty these young men seemed like lesser beings to the collie's prowess of manhood and virility.
Fitting in with the dog's nature the restraints were cruel yet cunning. Before each lamb was a thin iron bar, with two perspex plates attached on top. The lamb's balls were trapped within the apex of these pedestals of torment, the perspex crushing their balls in a pleasing manner, with their paws handcuffed behind their backs. To ease their torment they had to stand on tip-toes to help relieve the strain in their poor scrotum.
Both looked positively exhausted, covered in a thick layer of sweat. A musk of sex permeated throughout the room. If they wanted to argue their cruel punishment, they would not have been able to through their ball gags.
"Assume the position," the collie growled, removing the leash from the lamb's balls. The ram nodded, and without a word approached his own empty pedestal, placing his balls within the slot. Now he looked identical to his poor brothers.
The collie tightened the nuts on the pedestal, watching with glee as the perspex sheets began to make a pressed flower of the ram's balls. He was satisfied with his work when they could be seen to be squashed and red, firmly stuck in place, with the slaves useless dick lying limply on top of the contraption.
The lamb could feel the collie's hot breath on the back of his neck, and a primal instinct took over. A compete and utter fear, of being prey, of being in danger from a deadly predator, of being trapped. He could feel cold oil rubbed over his sensitive pucker, then that slick red member pressed up against his tight anus. He mewed a small bleat, hoping that his indiscretion wasn't heard.
"Your pussy is mine," Cuillin whispered, "I own your ass. I own you." The lamb could feel the maw of the canine now softly biting into his neck, the teeth slightly pressed into the lamb's soft, sweet flesh. The dominance was clear.
Without warning, the dog's thick member violated the lamb's hole; fucking in long hard strokes. The lamb tried his best to not cry out, but bleats of pleasure managed to escape his throat. The vibrations of these noises felt through the jaw of the collie only increased the speed and strength of his thrusts. With each stroke the lamb was reminded how emasculated he was with those full and heavy set of balls banging into the flesh of his soft buttocks.
Cuillin became more and more agitated, and his thrusts shorter and more primal. The lamb could feel that knot begin to form, he could feel it pushing against his anus. Then, with one hard thrust his anus stretched wider than he could have imagined. The knot had entered him. He was now well and truly bred, his tight ass filled with the fullness of the dog's canine dick thrusting into him. He was trapped under this primal animal until his master's erection subsided.
He could feel the tip of his master's cock rubbing against his prostate, causing the lamb's erection to jump and bang against the tight perspex his poor balls were trapped in. With one more short thrust, the lamb could feel wave after wave of cum now filling his body. There was so much of it, almost an impossible amount the lamb believed, but it was a pleasing feeling of fullness as his master bit into his exposed neck.
The ram began to bleat loudly as its own orgasm was imminent, but the ram's poor balls were unable to tighten against his body, and only a pitiful dribble of cum began to emerge from the lamb's tight foreskin, running down the slave's cock and pooling upon the perspex.
There was only silence left in the room aside from the heavy breathing. The lamb was trapped under this towering mass of canine, still trying to stay on tip-toes to help his poor testes.
"Who gave you permission to cum, you quick shooting, useless slut." Asked the wolf coldly, "you're all going to be punished hard for this one."