Jim is on the floor, crying in pain, but is lifted to his feet by his mother's strong arms. She tries to pull him with her as she starts to walk away, but Jim resists. He'd rather lie back down and recover from the pain, but he is rewarded with a hard yank on the rope, and with a yelp, he limps alongside his mother, leaving Dana still laying on the floor, panting and licking cum off her lips.
Mother and son again start the trek back to Nathalie's office. Thankfully, this time they managed without any more interruptions. Relieved to be back in the relative privacy of Nathalie's office, they both relax. Nathalie uncuffs Jim, but when he reaches down to untie his balls, Nathalie stops him.
"Leave it," she smiles. "I have a great idea of how to use it." She goes to her desk and takes out two pieces of paper and pens. She hands them one of each. She walks over to a cupboard and opens it. It is filled with dumbbells of varying sizes. "See these? I want you both to write down how much weight you think these testicles can carry, and then I want you to write how long you think they should hang there. I will pay you $200 per kilo for each minute you can hold it, so 2 kilos for 3 minutes would be $1200. We will use whichever writes the most."
Nathalie watches them as they write down their answers; she grabs their notes as they finish.
"Let's see here... I'm guessing this shaky handwriting is yours, Jim. '0.5 kg for 2 minutes'? That's shit! Let's see if your mom has more faith in your balls. '10 kg for 10 minutes"—wow, Jessica! That's a lot!"
"Is that much? I didn't know; let's just go with what Jim wrote!" Jessica pleads as she realizes her mistake.
"Nope, it's all or nothing. But if he can do this, you will get $20,000."
"Mom, please," Jim begs, "I can't do that much. It hurts so much already. Please, mom, I want to go home." His eyes are welling up with tears as he desperately pleads with his mother.
Jessica is also crying as she walks to the cupboard, picking out the weights. She can hear her son pleading with her, but she knows this amount of money could be the difference between life and death for her ********. She brings the weights to Jim.
"Please, Jim," she cries, "don't make this harder for me than it already is. Be strong, Jim; please, I beg you. For you, sister." Her hands are shaking as she ties the weights according to Nathalie's instructions.
Jim is sitting on the floor, and the weights are tied close to his body to make sure they won't touch the ground when he stands. When she's finished, Nathalie pulls the crying mother along with her, and they sit down on chairs behind her desk. Jim is sitting on the floor right in front of them.
"Now stand," Nathalie demands.
"Please, I can't!" Jim pleads.
"Jim, you have to. Please!" Jessica cries. She watches in horror as he tries to stand with his legs shaking. She sees his balls stretch further than she thought was possible as the weights are lifted off the ground.
Jim's teeth are clenched, his eyes shut tight, and a fiery, unrelenting pain courses through his testicles. "Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God," he constantly repeats.
Jessica is devastated at the sight of her son's torture, and the occasional sob slips out between her lips. Nathalie rubs her shoulder.
"Think of the money," she tries to comfort her, "it will all be worth it when your ******** is back on her feet. Imagine the three of you being able to laugh like a ****** again." The women watched the suffering in silence for a while.
"Say-" Nathalie breaks the silence. "Is Jim dating anyone?"
"Yeah," Jessica sniffles, "he's seeing this lovely young Christian girl, Susy, and they've known each other since they were five. He's actually planning to propose to her on Valentine's Day." Her mood brightens at the thought.
"How romantic!" Nathalie replies that she is holding Jim's phone in her hand. "Here, take a photo of him with this phone."
Jessica grabs the phone and hesitantly takes a photo of her agonized son, unsure of where this is going.
"Wow, that's a good one. I want a copy of that later! But first, send that photo to the lovely young Susy. Write something like, 'Like what you see.
"W-what? No, I couldn't! She would never understand; she's very conservative." Jessica hesitates. "But... how much... How much would you pay?"
Nathalie smiles. "Hm. Let's say $5000."
Jessica thinks. She loves Susy like a ********, but Sarah is the most important person right now. Maybe she can explain it to her later, and maybe she will understand.
"OK... ok. I will do it." With a loud sob, she presses 'send'.
After not too long, the phone vibrates, and the message reads: "I HATE U, Jim!!!!!!!! DIE!"
"Oh, what have I done!?" Jessica starts crying uncontrollably.
Meanwhile, Jim is standing completely ******* of anything but the extreme pain in his testicles. His body is coated in sweat, and every muscle is twitching.
"Not much longer now!" Nathalie encourages. She's looking at her watch. Suddenly, it beeps. "You did it! Come on, why don't you lift the weights up to the desk?"
Jim is like a trance; his world is pain, but somehow he hears her and does as she says. The relief is like nothing he has ever felt; his balls are pulsating, and each pulse feels like a gut punch, but it's still a relief. He places his hands on the desk and leans in, groaning in pain.
Nathalie leans in close to Jessica. "I will give you another $2000 if you kick the weights off the table right now," she whispers.
"No..." Jessica sobs, "I don't... I can't... please!"
Despite her words, she lifts her leg on the desk and gives the weights a push. Jim is still too absorbed by his pain to notice. But he notices when the 10 kg weights abruptly stop their descent with a powerful yank to his testicles. His eyes and mouth open wide, and he makes a strange wheezing sound as he falls to the floor.
Jessica runs to his side and hugs her poor son, trying to apologize to him. But he has passed out from the pain. She holds her son in an embrace, rocking back and forth while begging for forgiveness.
10 minutes pass before he comes back to life. He angrily pushes his mother away.
"Mom," he groans, "how could you do that to me!?"
He tries to get to his feet and rush out the door, but the weights still tied to him yank his balls painfully once again, and he stumbles into a small coffee table as he tries to gain balance. On the table stands an old, expensive-looking vase that is smashed into pieces on the floor.
"You fucking idiot!" Nathalie screams. "That was a $50,000 vase! Your son has just negated all the hard work you have put in today, Jessica. In fact, you now owe me $16,500."
"Oh god," Jessica cries, "this can't be happening!"
Nathalie quickly regains her composure; she has a cruel smile on her face. "Relax; I think we can solve this if we just think."
"Please, anything!"
"First, untie his balls; they're completely blue!"
Jessica hurriedly unties his balls. Jim screams in pain as blood starts flowing back into them.
"Jessica, quick, give him a kick to his balls."
Eager to please her, Jessica kicks him square in the nuts without thinking. Jim screams in agony.
"Good, that was for being an idiot. Put the handcuffs back on. We can't have him cause any more damage than he's already done."
Jim is in too much pain to be able to resist as his mother handcuffs his hands behind his back.
"So how do you think you should pay me for the vase?" Nathalie asks.
"Please, Miss Wood, I'll do anything. But can't we let him go? He's been through so much already, please!"
"No. Tell me how you will repay me. Or you will be out of a job, and you will receive a bill for the vase."
"What do you mean?"
"I want you to tell me how you will torture your son. Enough to earn $16,500."
"Oh god!" Jessica is bawling. "Please! I don't think I can handle much more!"
"Then leave."
"No! Please... wait." Jessica is covering her face in her hands and is crying uncontrollably. "I will kick his testicles 10 times."
"Mom, please!" Jim begs from the floor, "I want to go home! I can't do this anymore!"
"We've done that already; come up with something new. And cover his ears; I want it to be a fun surprise."
Jessica tries desperately to think of something while she covers Jim's ears with her hands. Her tears drip down on his face as she stands over him. "He can..." she cuts off mid-sentence with her sobbing, "He can... drink my p-pee..." Jessica watches Nathalie's expression brighten.
"How will you make him do that?"
"I will hurt his testicles until he begs me to drink it."
"That's good! What more?"
"More? Oh god, he will do it out there, in front of all the girls." She nods to the door leading out of Nathalie's office.
"Yes!" Nathalie claps her hands excitedly. "He should make a cool entrance too!"
"Ok..." Jessica is somehow caught up in the excitement: "I will... I will tie the rope to this office chair... And he will drag me out by his balls!"
"YES! And what if he doesn't drink fast enough?"
Jessica looks around the office and spots a long metal ruler. "I will slap his balls with that ruler!"
"Deal," Nathalie shakes her hand and hands her the empty 2 liter pitcher, "fill 'er up! And be sure to do it right in front of him so he gets a good view."
Jessica places the pitcher on the floor just in front of Jim and then removes her pants. He watches in horror as his mother lifts her skirt and crouches down. She has a thick, hairy bush. When she starts spreading her pussy lips, Jim starts to protest.
"What's going on?"
"You're going to drink mommies piss," Nathalie smiles cruelly.
"No. No, I can't do that." Jim stammers in response. He watches in despair as a thick yellow stream starts shooting from his mother's vagina. The thick, musky smell of her piss causes him to cough. The stream is seemingly endless, and she quickly fills the entire pitcher to the brim. Jessica pushes the pitcher away and kneels close to her son.
"J-Jim, please... please..." She has tears in her eyes as she pleads with her son. "Please just say you will drink it." Jim just stares at her in horror.
"You have to beg to drink it!" Nathalie clarifies.
"Beg me to drink it. Please Jim!"
"No, I can't!"
Jessica crawls closer to Jim and puts her right hand around his testicles. Jim flinches at her touch.
"Mom, please... can we go?" Jim is shaking in fear.
"Beg me," Jessica whispers as she starts squeezing. Softly at first but gradually harder, Jim screams in agony.
"MOM! PLEASE IT HURTS!" Jim screams.
"Please say it!"
Tears are streaming down both their faces, and Jim's agonized screams fill the office.
"PLEASE JIM! SAY IT!" Jessica presses down even harder, hoping to end his misery as soon as possible.
Jim stubbornly shakes his head; his teeth are clenched as he fights the burning pain in his balls. He can still remember the taste of Rebecca's piss, and he would rather die than drink his own mother's too.
"AAAAARGH!" Jim screams, "Stop! MOM STOP!"
"Just say it, Jim!" Jessica keeps a steady grip, knowing she can never be forgiven for her actions. Jessica sees that Jim's entire body is shaking from the pain; drool drips from his chin as he hyperventilates through his clenched teeth.
"Please, say you will drink my pee!" Jessica begs her son She's struggling to get a good grip around his balls as they get more and more slippery from the sweat that they are both producing. Jessica is forced to take a new grip around his balls, now digging her fingernails deep into his testicles.
Jim lets out a deafening scream and tries to pull away from his mother, but she is too strong for him, and it only causes more pain.
"OKAY! STOP! I'LL DO IT!"
Jessica lets go of his burning testicles.
"Beg her," Nathalie commands, "to drink mommies piss."
"Please... please. Can I drink your pee? Please mom."
Jessica is both relieved and horrified by her son's words.
"Good boy," Nathalie laughs, "time to tie up those balls again."
"W-what? I said I'd do it!"
Jessica stays silent, too ashamed to look at her son as she ties his balls back up. She pulls out an office chair with four wheels and ties the other end of the rope to it.
"Tell him what's about to happen."
"J-Jim," Jessica stammers, "you have to pull me on the chair out of this office."
"Isn't it clever? Your mom came up with the whole idea!"
"Mom, why are you doing this to me?"
Jessica hides her face in her hands and sobs. Nathalie gives her a pitcher full of urine.
"Don't spill! And don't forget this." Nathalie hands her the ruler and walks to the door.
The chair is 10 meters from the door. Jim stands up and tries to pull his mother away. The pain is unbelievable as his sore and swollen balls are stretched tight. But the chair doesn't even move. He tries to put more weight on and is rewarded by even greater pain. He falls to the floor, panting.
"I-I can't. It hurts too much!"
"Use the ruler!" Nathalie commands.
Jessica leans forward. "Forgive me," she whispers as the ruler cuts the air and hits Jim's stretched testicles with a splat. Surprised by the stinging pain, Jim shoots to his feet. Due to the difficulties of keeping his balance with his hands cuffed behind his back, he stumbles forward to regain his balance, and for a second, all his body weight is focused through his balls on the rope. He screams in pain, but the chair starts rolling. It takes all his willpower to fight through the pain and keep pulling the chair.
20 women cheer as they watch a young man stumble through the doorway. His eyes are closed and his teeth are clenched; froth has formed in the corners of his mouth. His hair is damp, and his body is covered by a film of sweat. Behind the man is a woman sitting on a chair. Her face is covered in tears. She is looking down at the floor, sobbing. She is holding a long metal ruler in her right hand and a pitcher filled with yellow liquid in her left.
Finally, Nathalie tells Jim to stop. He falls to his knees, exhausted. His eyes are stinging from the sweat, and his vision is blurry. He looks around, and he sees the beautiful Rebecca smiling at him.
"Why don't you tell the girls why you are here, Jim?" Nathalie says.
"I'm here to..." Jim's words trail off.
"Louder!"
"I'm here to... drink my mother's pee." Jim stares at the floor. Even though he is feeling very humiliated, he would give anything right now just to be able to lie down on the floor and cradle his aching balls.
"Give it to him." Nathalie orders Jessica.
Jessica places the pitcher in front of her son. "Please forgive me." She whispers to him, but Jim refuses to look at her. Nathalie uncuffs his hands.
"Drink!" Nathalie yells. The other women join her in a chant. "Drink! Drink! Drink!"
Jim steals a glance at Rebecca and sees, to his disappointment, that she has joined the chant as well. She's clapping her hands after each word and looking at him excitedly. Jim places both hands around the pitcher; it's still warm. He looks down and sees a thick white foam at the top. He can see several of his mother's pubic hairs floating in the foam. He closes his eyes and lifts them up to his face, the women still chanting. He recoils at the awful smell. "How can they expect me to drink this?" he thinks. Suddenly a sharp pain hits his balls, and some of the piss splashes in his eyes as he opens them to see his mother standing above him with the ruler. He sees her pleading and tearful eyes.
He lifts the pitcher up to his mouth and starts to drink it down. He feels his mother's warm urine pour down his throat. After a couple of chugs, the taste hits him. It's foul! He puts the pitcher away for a second to catch his breath. He feels saliva forming in his mouth, and he fights to hold back the vomit. The room fills with laughter as someone points out the foam mustache on his upper lip. In the corner of his eye, he sees Nathalie saying something, and once again he feels the ruler connect with his balls; the stinging pain burns, and he hurriedly brings the pitcher back to his mouth and starts chugging. He tries to breathe through his nose while drinking, but he gets some of the liquid caught in his lungs, which causes a cough attack. He is allowed a couple of coughs before the rules strike his balls again, softly this time. "Mom must be having a hard time too," he manages to think before the ruler strikes him again very hard. He screams in pain, but the scream is interrupted by his coughing. His balls are met with the ruler twice more before his lungs are clear enough for him to bring the pitcher back up to his lips.
"One tenth done," he thinks, "I will die here." He starts chugging the terrible drink. He tries to forget the source of the liquid, but the taste keeps him constantly reminded. He drinks slowly and methodically, stopping only to catch his breath. These breaks are usually rewarded by a strike to his balls. Sometimes they are soft, but they are always followed by a very hard strike as Nathalie scolds his mother. Regardless of their strength, they are always met with cheers and laughs from the women.
It takes him 15 minutes to finish the pitcher. His balls are completely blue from bruises. He is sick to his stomach and lies down in a fetal position to the deafening sounds of 20 women cheering and laughing.
Nathalie is ecstatic. "Wow! That was fucking amazing!" She crouches next to Jessica and puts her hand on her shoulder. "I just wish there was something we could do to help your ********." She thinks. "It's just not right to let you go home without making any money today." She leans in close and whispers in her ear. "I will pay you $1000 for each kick to his balls."
"Please," Jessica begs, "Miss Wood, don't you think he's had enough today?"
"This is a one-time offer, Jessica; think of your ********. Do you want to come home empty-handed? Just as you started this morning."
"No, no, no," Jessica shakes her head, "please..."
"You have to, for Sarah."
"Please-" Jessica hangs her head in shame and says, "Please. Just not too hard."
"Great!" Nathalie stands up and says, "Who wants to kick the boy in his balls?" All the women cheered in response. Jim tries to protest, but only manages to cough.
Two heavy desks are dragged to either side of Jim, and each leg is tied to the desk so that he is lying on his back with his legs spread wide. His hands are cuffed behind his back again, and Jessica is instructed to sit down on his chest as the first lady approaches. Jessica knows the woman well; it's Anna, a woman her own age. They have been working together for three years. The women watching all laughed as she jokingly stretched her legs.
"I'm going to pulverize your son's balls!" Anna says to Jessica, and the audience cheers.
"Now beg her!" Nathalie says.
"W-what?"
"Beg Anna to kick your son in the nuts!"
"Oh no, why?" Jessica moans. "Anna... p-please... Anna, kick my son in the testicles." As she finishes the sentence, she cries into her hands. She can feel Jim struggling beneath her, pleading with her to go home. She is forced to place her hands on the floor for balance as Jim tries to buck her off.
"Well, since you asked so nicely,"
Anna smirks as she pulls her right foot back. The kick lands with a splat, and Jessica can feel the force of it as it travels through her son's body. Jim screams a hoarse scream.
"Kiss her foot, Jessica," Nathalie says, "and thank her for kicking your son's nuts."
Anna stretches her leg for Jessica to reach. Jessica bends down and places her lips on Anna's dirty sneakers. "Thank you, Anna. Thank you for kicking my son's t-shirts." She keeps her head down in shame as another woman steps up.
After five women Jim is begging his mother to be released with a voice hoarse from all the screaming: "Mommy, mommy, I want to go home. Please, mommy." But Jessica is too ashamed to even respond.
Mother and son again start the trek back to Nathalie's office. Thankfully, this time they managed without any more interruptions. Relieved to be back in the relative privacy of Nathalie's office, they both relax. Nathalie uncuffs Jim, but when he reaches down to untie his balls, Nathalie stops him.
"Leave it," she smiles. "I have a great idea of how to use it." She goes to her desk and takes out two pieces of paper and pens. She hands them one of each. She walks over to a cupboard and opens it. It is filled with dumbbells of varying sizes. "See these? I want you both to write down how much weight you think these testicles can carry, and then I want you to write how long you think they should hang there. I will pay you $200 per kilo for each minute you can hold it, so 2 kilos for 3 minutes would be $1200. We will use whichever writes the most."
Nathalie watches them as they write down their answers; she grabs their notes as they finish.
"Let's see here... I'm guessing this shaky handwriting is yours, Jim. '0.5 kg for 2 minutes'? That's shit! Let's see if your mom has more faith in your balls. '10 kg for 10 minutes"—wow, Jessica! That's a lot!"
"Is that much? I didn't know; let's just go with what Jim wrote!" Jessica pleads as she realizes her mistake.
"Nope, it's all or nothing. But if he can do this, you will get $20,000."
"Mom, please," Jim begs, "I can't do that much. It hurts so much already. Please, mom, I want to go home." His eyes are welling up with tears as he desperately pleads with his mother.
Jessica is also crying as she walks to the cupboard, picking out the weights. She can hear her son pleading with her, but she knows this amount of money could be the difference between life and death for her ********. She brings the weights to Jim.
"Please, Jim," she cries, "don't make this harder for me than it already is. Be strong, Jim; please, I beg you. For you, sister." Her hands are shaking as she ties the weights according to Nathalie's instructions.
Jim is sitting on the floor, and the weights are tied close to his body to make sure they won't touch the ground when he stands. When she's finished, Nathalie pulls the crying mother along with her, and they sit down on chairs behind her desk. Jim is sitting on the floor right in front of them.
"Now stand," Nathalie demands.
"Please, I can't!" Jim pleads.
"Jim, you have to. Please!" Jessica cries. She watches in horror as he tries to stand with his legs shaking. She sees his balls stretch further than she thought was possible as the weights are lifted off the ground.
Jim's teeth are clenched, his eyes shut tight, and a fiery, unrelenting pain courses through his testicles. "Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God," he constantly repeats.
Jessica is devastated at the sight of her son's torture, and the occasional sob slips out between her lips. Nathalie rubs her shoulder.
"Think of the money," she tries to comfort her, "it will all be worth it when your ******** is back on her feet. Imagine the three of you being able to laugh like a ****** again." The women watched the suffering in silence for a while.
"Say-" Nathalie breaks the silence. "Is Jim dating anyone?"
"Yeah," Jessica sniffles, "he's seeing this lovely young Christian girl, Susy, and they've known each other since they were five. He's actually planning to propose to her on Valentine's Day." Her mood brightens at the thought.
"How romantic!" Nathalie replies that she is holding Jim's phone in her hand. "Here, take a photo of him with this phone."
Jessica grabs the phone and hesitantly takes a photo of her agonized son, unsure of where this is going.
"Wow, that's a good one. I want a copy of that later! But first, send that photo to the lovely young Susy. Write something like, 'Like what you see.
"W-what? No, I couldn't! She would never understand; she's very conservative." Jessica hesitates. "But... how much... How much would you pay?"
Nathalie smiles. "Hm. Let's say $5000."
Jessica thinks. She loves Susy like a ********, but Sarah is the most important person right now. Maybe she can explain it to her later, and maybe she will understand.
"OK... ok. I will do it." With a loud sob, she presses 'send'.
After not too long, the phone vibrates, and the message reads: "I HATE U, Jim!!!!!!!! DIE!"
"Oh, what have I done!?" Jessica starts crying uncontrollably.
Meanwhile, Jim is standing completely ******* of anything but the extreme pain in his testicles. His body is coated in sweat, and every muscle is twitching.
"Not much longer now!" Nathalie encourages. She's looking at her watch. Suddenly, it beeps. "You did it! Come on, why don't you lift the weights up to the desk?"
Jim is like a trance; his world is pain, but somehow he hears her and does as she says. The relief is like nothing he has ever felt; his balls are pulsating, and each pulse feels like a gut punch, but it's still a relief. He places his hands on the desk and leans in, groaning in pain.
Nathalie leans in close to Jessica. "I will give you another $2000 if you kick the weights off the table right now," she whispers.
"No..." Jessica sobs, "I don't... I can't... please!"
Despite her words, she lifts her leg on the desk and gives the weights a push. Jim is still too absorbed by his pain to notice. But he notices when the 10 kg weights abruptly stop their descent with a powerful yank to his testicles. His eyes and mouth open wide, and he makes a strange wheezing sound as he falls to the floor.
Jessica runs to his side and hugs her poor son, trying to apologize to him. But he has passed out from the pain. She holds her son in an embrace, rocking back and forth while begging for forgiveness.
10 minutes pass before he comes back to life. He angrily pushes his mother away.
"Mom," he groans, "how could you do that to me!?"
He tries to get to his feet and rush out the door, but the weights still tied to him yank his balls painfully once again, and he stumbles into a small coffee table as he tries to gain balance. On the table stands an old, expensive-looking vase that is smashed into pieces on the floor.
"You fucking idiot!" Nathalie screams. "That was a $50,000 vase! Your son has just negated all the hard work you have put in today, Jessica. In fact, you now owe me $16,500."
"Oh god," Jessica cries, "this can't be happening!"
Nathalie quickly regains her composure; she has a cruel smile on her face. "Relax; I think we can solve this if we just think."
"Please, anything!"
"First, untie his balls; they're completely blue!"
Jessica hurriedly unties his balls. Jim screams in pain as blood starts flowing back into them.
"Jessica, quick, give him a kick to his balls."
Eager to please her, Jessica kicks him square in the nuts without thinking. Jim screams in agony.
"Good, that was for being an idiot. Put the handcuffs back on. We can't have him cause any more damage than he's already done."
Jim is in too much pain to be able to resist as his mother handcuffs his hands behind his back.
"So how do you think you should pay me for the vase?" Nathalie asks.
"Please, Miss Wood, I'll do anything. But can't we let him go? He's been through so much already, please!"
"No. Tell me how you will repay me. Or you will be out of a job, and you will receive a bill for the vase."
"What do you mean?"
"I want you to tell me how you will torture your son. Enough to earn $16,500."
"Oh god!" Jessica is bawling. "Please! I don't think I can handle much more!"
"Then leave."
"No! Please... wait." Jessica is covering her face in her hands and is crying uncontrollably. "I will kick his testicles 10 times."
"Mom, please!" Jim begs from the floor, "I want to go home! I can't do this anymore!"
"We've done that already; come up with something new. And cover his ears; I want it to be a fun surprise."
Jessica tries desperately to think of something while she covers Jim's ears with her hands. Her tears drip down on his face as she stands over him. "He can..." she cuts off mid-sentence with her sobbing, "He can... drink my p-pee..." Jessica watches Nathalie's expression brighten.
"How will you make him do that?"
"I will hurt his testicles until he begs me to drink it."
"That's good! What more?"
"More? Oh god, he will do it out there, in front of all the girls." She nods to the door leading out of Nathalie's office.
"Yes!" Nathalie claps her hands excitedly. "He should make a cool entrance too!"
"Ok..." Jessica is somehow caught up in the excitement: "I will... I will tie the rope to this office chair... And he will drag me out by his balls!"
"YES! And what if he doesn't drink fast enough?"
Jessica looks around the office and spots a long metal ruler. "I will slap his balls with that ruler!"
"Deal," Nathalie shakes her hand and hands her the empty 2 liter pitcher, "fill 'er up! And be sure to do it right in front of him so he gets a good view."
Jessica places the pitcher on the floor just in front of Jim and then removes her pants. He watches in horror as his mother lifts her skirt and crouches down. She has a thick, hairy bush. When she starts spreading her pussy lips, Jim starts to protest.
"What's going on?"
"You're going to drink mommies piss," Nathalie smiles cruelly.
"No. No, I can't do that." Jim stammers in response. He watches in despair as a thick yellow stream starts shooting from his mother's vagina. The thick, musky smell of her piss causes him to cough. The stream is seemingly endless, and she quickly fills the entire pitcher to the brim. Jessica pushes the pitcher away and kneels close to her son.
"J-Jim, please... please..." She has tears in her eyes as she pleads with her son. "Please just say you will drink it." Jim just stares at her in horror.
"You have to beg to drink it!" Nathalie clarifies.
"Beg me to drink it. Please Jim!"
"No, I can't!"
Jessica crawls closer to Jim and puts her right hand around his testicles. Jim flinches at her touch.
"Mom, please... can we go?" Jim is shaking in fear.
"Beg me," Jessica whispers as she starts squeezing. Softly at first but gradually harder, Jim screams in agony.
"MOM! PLEASE IT HURTS!" Jim screams.
"Please say it!"
Tears are streaming down both their faces, and Jim's agonized screams fill the office.
"PLEASE JIM! SAY IT!" Jessica presses down even harder, hoping to end his misery as soon as possible.
Jim stubbornly shakes his head; his teeth are clenched as he fights the burning pain in his balls. He can still remember the taste of Rebecca's piss, and he would rather die than drink his own mother's too.
"AAAAARGH!" Jim screams, "Stop! MOM STOP!"
"Just say it, Jim!" Jessica keeps a steady grip, knowing she can never be forgiven for her actions. Jessica sees that Jim's entire body is shaking from the pain; drool drips from his chin as he hyperventilates through his clenched teeth.
"Please, say you will drink my pee!" Jessica begs her son She's struggling to get a good grip around his balls as they get more and more slippery from the sweat that they are both producing. Jessica is forced to take a new grip around his balls, now digging her fingernails deep into his testicles.
Jim lets out a deafening scream and tries to pull away from his mother, but she is too strong for him, and it only causes more pain.
"OKAY! STOP! I'LL DO IT!"
Jessica lets go of his burning testicles.
"Beg her," Nathalie commands, "to drink mommies piss."
"Please... please. Can I drink your pee? Please mom."
Jessica is both relieved and horrified by her son's words.
"Good boy," Nathalie laughs, "time to tie up those balls again."
"W-what? I said I'd do it!"
Jessica stays silent, too ashamed to look at her son as she ties his balls back up. She pulls out an office chair with four wheels and ties the other end of the rope to it.
"Tell him what's about to happen."
"J-Jim," Jessica stammers, "you have to pull me on the chair out of this office."
"Isn't it clever? Your mom came up with the whole idea!"
"Mom, why are you doing this to me?"
Jessica hides her face in her hands and sobs. Nathalie gives her a pitcher full of urine.
"Don't spill! And don't forget this." Nathalie hands her the ruler and walks to the door.
The chair is 10 meters from the door. Jim stands up and tries to pull his mother away. The pain is unbelievable as his sore and swollen balls are stretched tight. But the chair doesn't even move. He tries to put more weight on and is rewarded by even greater pain. He falls to the floor, panting.
"I-I can't. It hurts too much!"
"Use the ruler!" Nathalie commands.
Jessica leans forward. "Forgive me," she whispers as the ruler cuts the air and hits Jim's stretched testicles with a splat. Surprised by the stinging pain, Jim shoots to his feet. Due to the difficulties of keeping his balance with his hands cuffed behind his back, he stumbles forward to regain his balance, and for a second, all his body weight is focused through his balls on the rope. He screams in pain, but the chair starts rolling. It takes all his willpower to fight through the pain and keep pulling the chair.
20 women cheer as they watch a young man stumble through the doorway. His eyes are closed and his teeth are clenched; froth has formed in the corners of his mouth. His hair is damp, and his body is covered by a film of sweat. Behind the man is a woman sitting on a chair. Her face is covered in tears. She is looking down at the floor, sobbing. She is holding a long metal ruler in her right hand and a pitcher filled with yellow liquid in her left.
Finally, Nathalie tells Jim to stop. He falls to his knees, exhausted. His eyes are stinging from the sweat, and his vision is blurry. He looks around, and he sees the beautiful Rebecca smiling at him.
"Why don't you tell the girls why you are here, Jim?" Nathalie says.
"I'm here to..." Jim's words trail off.
"Louder!"
"I'm here to... drink my mother's pee." Jim stares at the floor. Even though he is feeling very humiliated, he would give anything right now just to be able to lie down on the floor and cradle his aching balls.
"Give it to him." Nathalie orders Jessica.
Jessica places the pitcher in front of her son. "Please forgive me." She whispers to him, but Jim refuses to look at her. Nathalie uncuffs his hands.
"Drink!" Nathalie yells. The other women join her in a chant. "Drink! Drink! Drink!"
Jim steals a glance at Rebecca and sees, to his disappointment, that she has joined the chant as well. She's clapping her hands after each word and looking at him excitedly. Jim places both hands around the pitcher; it's still warm. He looks down and sees a thick white foam at the top. He can see several of his mother's pubic hairs floating in the foam. He closes his eyes and lifts them up to his face, the women still chanting. He recoils at the awful smell. "How can they expect me to drink this?" he thinks. Suddenly a sharp pain hits his balls, and some of the piss splashes in his eyes as he opens them to see his mother standing above him with the ruler. He sees her pleading and tearful eyes.
He lifts the pitcher up to his mouth and starts to drink it down. He feels his mother's warm urine pour down his throat. After a couple of chugs, the taste hits him. It's foul! He puts the pitcher away for a second to catch his breath. He feels saliva forming in his mouth, and he fights to hold back the vomit. The room fills with laughter as someone points out the foam mustache on his upper lip. In the corner of his eye, he sees Nathalie saying something, and once again he feels the ruler connect with his balls; the stinging pain burns, and he hurriedly brings the pitcher back to his mouth and starts chugging. He tries to breathe through his nose while drinking, but he gets some of the liquid caught in his lungs, which causes a cough attack. He is allowed a couple of coughs before the rules strike his balls again, softly this time. "Mom must be having a hard time too," he manages to think before the ruler strikes him again very hard. He screams in pain, but the scream is interrupted by his coughing. His balls are met with the ruler twice more before his lungs are clear enough for him to bring the pitcher back up to his lips.
"One tenth done," he thinks, "I will die here." He starts chugging the terrible drink. He tries to forget the source of the liquid, but the taste keeps him constantly reminded. He drinks slowly and methodically, stopping only to catch his breath. These breaks are usually rewarded by a strike to his balls. Sometimes they are soft, but they are always followed by a very hard strike as Nathalie scolds his mother. Regardless of their strength, they are always met with cheers and laughs from the women.
It takes him 15 minutes to finish the pitcher. His balls are completely blue from bruises. He is sick to his stomach and lies down in a fetal position to the deafening sounds of 20 women cheering and laughing.
Nathalie is ecstatic. "Wow! That was fucking amazing!" She crouches next to Jessica and puts her hand on her shoulder. "I just wish there was something we could do to help your ********." She thinks. "It's just not right to let you go home without making any money today." She leans in close and whispers in her ear. "I will pay you $1000 for each kick to his balls."
"Please," Jessica begs, "Miss Wood, don't you think he's had enough today?"
"This is a one-time offer, Jessica; think of your ********. Do you want to come home empty-handed? Just as you started this morning."
"No, no, no," Jessica shakes her head, "please..."
"You have to, for Sarah."
"Please-" Jessica hangs her head in shame and says, "Please. Just not too hard."
"Great!" Nathalie stands up and says, "Who wants to kick the boy in his balls?" All the women cheered in response. Jim tries to protest, but only manages to cough.
Two heavy desks are dragged to either side of Jim, and each leg is tied to the desk so that he is lying on his back with his legs spread wide. His hands are cuffed behind his back again, and Jessica is instructed to sit down on his chest as the first lady approaches. Jessica knows the woman well; it's Anna, a woman her own age. They have been working together for three years. The women watching all laughed as she jokingly stretched her legs.
"I'm going to pulverize your son's balls!" Anna says to Jessica, and the audience cheers.
"Now beg her!" Nathalie says.
"W-what?"
"Beg Anna to kick your son in the nuts!"
"Oh no, why?" Jessica moans. "Anna... p-please... Anna, kick my son in the testicles." As she finishes the sentence, she cries into her hands. She can feel Jim struggling beneath her, pleading with her to go home. She is forced to place her hands on the floor for balance as Jim tries to buck her off.
"Well, since you asked so nicely,"
Anna smirks as she pulls her right foot back. The kick lands with a splat, and Jessica can feel the force of it as it travels through her son's body. Jim screams a hoarse scream.
"Kiss her foot, Jessica," Nathalie says, "and thank her for kicking your son's nuts."
Anna stretches her leg for Jessica to reach. Jessica bends down and places her lips on Anna's dirty sneakers. "Thank you, Anna. Thank you for kicking my son's t-shirts." She keeps her head down in shame as another woman steps up.
After five women Jim is begging his mother to be released with a voice hoarse from all the screaming: "Mommy, mommy, I want to go home. Please, mommy." But Jessica is too ashamed to even respond.
