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Jacob looked at the calendar - he still liked to keep a paper calendar, even in this day and age - and smiled, flush with pride at his self-control. [i]No Nut November[/i] had been a cinch. It was so easy, in fact, that he had taken it all the way through December. Did the raccoon then give himself an orgasm for a Christmas present? He did not. January, then February came to to pass, and Jacob felt tempted at times, but his resolve was mighty, and his balls seemingly heavy.

Then came the first of March. Finally, on a whim, he felt it was time to unload. To just masturbate, of course, would have been too simple. Jacob was a smart raccoon, a cunning young man. He was going to make sure he had a good show. He was too good for porn, a vice he had done without for four months now. Only the real deal would do.

On campus, he was hardly starved for opportunities to get laid. A handsome, if not effeminate raccoon, Jacob had his share of offers for dates, and sometimes took them, though these encounters remained casual due to his chastity. Even now, the raccoon was not interested in sex, only masturbation, and only on his terms.

His plan was ingenious. Taking full advantage of his girlish figure, he dressed to pass: black ruffled skirt, white shirt with modest padding sewn into the chest, and a pink thong. The thong, he thought, might be overkill. But he loved the feel of its soft, pink material against his genitals. Wearing it made him uncomfortably erect, and he thought if he shifted around in it too much he might ruin the entire plan. So he moved quickly.

The female basketball team was of considerable interest to Jacob, who had a fetish for tall, athletic women. Many of them were equine, with long muscular legs ending in hooves. During practice, Jacob let himself into their locker room. The professors and prefects paid him little mind save for subtly lustful glances. The raccoon moved quickly enough to avoid scrutiny, but casually enough to appear as if he belonged.

Inside the locker room, he wasted no time at all. Into the restroom he went, and he waited by the doors, peering through the small gaps between the stalls. It was not ideal, but the difficult circumstances only heightened Jacob's pleasure. He waited, cock throbbing under the thong's thin pouch, panting softly.

At last, the girls came in sweaty from exercise, laughing and playing, hooves clacking on the floor. One zebra, three brown mares, a cow, a goat, a svelte cheetah and a raccoon like Jacob himself. Unmindful of privacy, they were soon nude, goofing around and showering. Jacob watched, huffing. Headlocks with sweaty armpits; towel snaps; beautiful soapy bodies.

He masturbated furtively, playing under the thong, wanting it on, savoring its soft cotton on his genitals and its rude floss between his ass cheeks. He leaned on the door, panting, groaning, daring to be a little noisy with the water flowing. Their wet, gleaming, athletic bodies were too much for the pent-up raccoon. Less than a minute of pleasure took him to his climax and he trembled and shook as he came, gushing fat ropes of his cream into the thong and through its fabric. Heavy dollops of his semen splattered on the tile floor. Jacob shuddered, grimacing as he rode out his orgasm. It was worth every second of preparation. Buying the clothes, the sewing, the sneaking. He regretted no part of it.

Now the raccoon needed only to wait until they left. His plan involved quiet extrication. When they were gone, he would leave, and that would be that. Maybe he would do this again, of course; it seemed a waste not to do so after sewing up such a convincing shirt.

When they finished their shower, they all toweled off, dressed, and made ready to leave. Many did. Soon only the zebra, one of the horses, the goat and cheetah remained. Then the zebra said, "Hold on, I gotta pee so bad."

Jacob's heart climbed up into his throat. All of his planning, and it never occurred to him one of them might want to use the stall he was in. She came closer, hooves clacking, and Jacob climbed onto the toilet so his feet could not be seen. He waited, eyes closed.

The stall next door opened. Jacob exhaled quietly.

Then his stall rattled. "Me too," said the goat. "Dammit, why won't this one open?"

"Hold on, I'll be out in a sec," the zebra said.

"No, screw that, I'm gonna get this one open!" the goat said, and she yanked on the door, jostling its handle. Finally she peered into the split and she said, "Wait, who are you? Why are you up on the toilet like that?"

The others came around. "Who's in there?" one asked. "What's going on?"

"I don't know," the goat said. "There's some other chick in here. Some raccoon."

Now the horse looked in. It took her only a second to say, "That's a guy!"

"Gross," someone said. Someone else laughed.

"Okay, buddy, get out here," the goat said lowly. "Come out on your own, or we'll drag you out kicking and screaming."

Jacob, trembling but queerly aroused by the forcefulness, unlocked the door. The goat thrust it open and loomed over Jacob. "Fucking creep! What are you doing in here? Get your kicks watching us shower?"

The raccoon smiled nervously. He held up his paws as if to show how harmless he was. "I-I'm sorry. Really."

The goat dragged him out into the middle of the room. The four stood around him, eyeing him predatorily. It was the cheetah who said, "Oh my god. There's jizz on his skirt..."

"Sick fuck. I say we call the cops," the horse scoffed.

"I say we kick him in the nuts 'til he can't have kids," the goat said, grinning.

The zebra, the tallest and most muscular of the entire team including those not present, patted the goat's shoulder. "Slow down. I've got an idea. What's your name, pervert?"

"Juh-, Jacob, it's Jacob..." He looked down, blushing, about to cry. But he had another erection. After four months of No Nut, one climax was not enough. "I'm so sorry..."

"Oh, you're [i]about[/i] to be," the goat huffed.

All the girls chuckled. The zebra said then, "Jacob. Here's the deal. Either you help us with a little... experiment we want to conduct, or we call the cops and you go to jail for being a creep. Choose."

"The experiment, I'll do whatever you want," Jacob said eagerly, looking at the zebra like he might kiss her. "Oh, thank god, thank you! Please don't call the police on me, if I get kicked out of college, my parents-"

"This experiment involves [i]shutting the fuck up,"[/i] the horse said.

"It sure does," the zebra chuckled. "Tie his paws behind his back."

"Wait a minute-," Jacob protested. The horse took off his skirt, ripped it in half, and used the shreds to bind his wrists snugly against the small of his back. He whined, "Hey, that's too tight!"

"Now tie his ankles to the benches," the zebra calmly directed. The horse and the cheetah bound him, this time using scraps of the shirt he was so proud of. One ankle lashed to one heavy bench, its twin to the other, Jacob was made to stand with legs parted as if for an in-depth search. Only the cum-stained thong remained on his body.

The zebra smirked at this arrangement. The goat grinned. The cheetah and horse seemed to be equally pleased.

"This experiment," the zebra said, taking a dry erase whiteboard off the wall, "will help us determine how much abuse it takes - measured in punches and kicks - for a healthy male's testicles to rupture."

"Oh, holy shit," Jacob whined. "Can I get arrested still?"

Whatever scientific method the zebra had planned, the goat cut in with her own methodology when she brought a kick flying up into his balls from behind. Sturdily fixed to a stout, taut leg, her gray hoof pounded his hapless testicles, cloven halves striking both gonads simultaneously in a lucky hit.

From the raccoon came a hideously shrill, womanly cry, a sound like rape and murder. The horse and cheetah scrambled to gag him, making use of dirtied panties without much thought; Jacob, the pervert, would have enjoyed the makeshift gag had his balls been in better shape.

Even through the panties, Jacob's whimpers and cries were noisy - but confined to the locker room. The zebra pretended to write the results with a marker; she was doodling a pair of walnuts being obliterated by a hammer.

"Test number one, goat hoof." She pulled aside the thong with the end of her marker and examined his scrotum thoughtfully. "Hm. Looks like everything is still intact. Bruising will be hard to detect through the fur."

"I have a way to measure that," the cheetah said cheerfully. She slipped a paw into his panties - and again, Jacob would have loved this in other circumstances. Then her fingers curled around his scrotum and gave it a squeeze, a delicate one as if testing a tomato in the grocery store. Raw, hideous agony shot through his body. He trembled and faltered, and he whimpered deeply through the soaked gag of panties. Tears streaked down his face and his erection was long gone.

"Seems like they're pretty tender!" the cheetah observed, grinning. She drew back her paw and stood on her tip-toes to look at the clipboard. Chuckling, she said, "Oh, funny. I wish we had a hammer here."

Jacob winced and looked at the three of them he could see. The fiery goat was still behind him.

The zebra grinned. "Test number two - a fist. Any volunteers?"

"Me-e-e!" the cheetah said, raising a paw. "Ooh, me! Nobody can work the speedbag like me."

The zebra hummed in thought. "Well, I meant [i]one[/i] punch, but-, what the hell? Science is about abandoning preconceived notions."

"I thought it was about the grant money," the horse remarked.

Kneeling on one of the benches, holding onto Jacob's leg in her left paw, the cheetah said, "All right, time to work the speedbag!"

[i]Please arrest me,[/i] Jacob thought, tears streaming down his cheeks, snot dripping from his nose. [i]Please call the police![/i]

The cheetah, it turned out, was good at the speedbag: she socked Jacob's hapless scrotum again and again, knuckles crunching into the flesh again and again. New bruises swelled and old bruises darkened, soon to be visible through his silvery fur like dark blots of ink spreading into water. Jacob writhed and he whined, kicking, jerking at his bonds. The tears flowed down his cheeks and miserable cries bellowed from his gagged mouth.

For twenty seconds which she counted in her head, mouthing the numbers, the cheetah gave Jacob's balls the business. On twenty she gave his groin a final, vicious punch then whipped back her paws, giggling and grinning. Her knuckles ached, but she knew the raccoon ached a whole lot more, and that made it just fine for her.

"Now let's have a look," said the zebra, smirking.

"Allow me," the horse said, reaching into Jacob's thong. She grasped his balls in a hand markedly more burly than the cheetah's paws. Under her testing grip, the raccoon's scrotum had a spongy feeling; the gonads within, she guessed from their angry throb, were swollen. The pain, observed the mare, must have been absolutely excruciating.

The zebra took down all of these observations. She asked the horse then, "How close do you think he is to a rupture?"

"Oh, I don't know," the horse tutted. "Can't be too far off now... these babies are [i]soft."[/i] She pulsed her grasp on them and Jacob shrieked a pitiful sound. His body, ramrod-straight, trembled like a thin post in a strong wind.

Drawing back her hand, the horse said, "I'd love a turn now. I've always wanted to kick a creep in the balls."

The zebra, goat, and cheetah all paused to admire the horse's legs: brown, long, plump. She herself was a fairly thick girl, but one who still competed well in sports. Everyone knew hefty muscle hid under her doughy belly and pudgy thighs.

"I don't know," the goat said, looking for herself at Jacob's sack. "Looks swollen to me. I think a kick from one of those hooves is gonna pop this fucker's grapes." She flicked his sack like launching a marble and he trembled violently, whining.

The cheetah eyed his red face as the goat, zebra, and horse talked it over. He looked through her, brown eyes dazed and wet. She cut in, "I think we should stop. He's fucked up, and I doubt he'll try this again."

"Fuck [i]that,"[/i] the goat snapped. "I bet he's getting off on being kicked, too! We don't stop until his balls burst."

"Right," the horse agreed, folding her arms across her thick bust. "So, me next."

"This isn't very scientific," the zebra lamented, putting back the whiteboard. "I don't know. I think I agree he's learned his lesson. But he's also totally fucking creepy."

A moment came where none of them had anything to say; they were all mulling it over, it seemed, except the goat who simply waited eagerly for the destruction to continue.

The cheetah had an epiphany, and she said, "Why don't we let him cum one more time? Like, jerk him off."

[i]"Then[/i] we crush his nuts?" the goat impatiently asked.

"Yeah," the cheetah said. "So, uh, who wants to-?"

The others all looked directly at her. "Your idea," the horse scoffed. "You do it."

Shrugging, the cheetah pulled the panties out of the raccoon's mouth. She asked him gently, "How does that sound?"

"Just let me [i]go,[/i] I'll never even [i]look[/i] at you again," Jacob wailed. In went the panties again.

With help from the others, the cheetah laid Jacob back on the benches, then tied him down again. The benches were arranged in a V shape so that someone could step easily between them, but Jacob's upper body was supported. It left his groin fully exposed for the final blow, a fact not lost on any of the girls.

The cheetah knelt beside Jacob. She pulled down his panties and tucked them under his sack. Even this made him hiss and groan. He shuddered as she began to fondle his penis, which was shriveled and tight, as if it may never harden again. But it did, under her gentle touch; and this alone made his balls ache deeply.

"See," the goat huffed, watching as Jacob's cock was coaxed hard. "I told you this fuck's into it. We're doing this guy a favor, busting his nuts."

"Shush," the cheetah said, giggling. She began to stroke Jacob, and not at all gently. Her fist pumped his cock harshly, and oftentimes her knuckles came down on his balls. Dark splotches of color could be seen on them under the harsh glow of the florescent lights. The girls marveled at this, each of them feeling a bit of scientific curiosity - and morbid fascination.

"Come on, cum for me," said the cheetah, cooing. She kept pumping her fist, working him hard, twisting a bit. Switching paws helped to change things up. Beads of precum oozed into her palms.

Jacob whimpered and writhed, hating these girls, hating all of them. He regretted being caught, but not that he had dared to spy on them where they were most vulnerable; and he would have told them as much loudly and defiantly if his mouth had not been gagged with their dirty underwear.

His hips bucked in soft, involuntary mating gestures, feeble attempts to fuck the cheetah's tugging paw in spite of the pain even the most minor vibrations caused his bruised testicles. The tears never stopped flowing even as his climax began; his balls tightened and the tender meat of his gonads seeped blood into his scrotum. Thick ropes of cum, still pent-up because one load was not enough after months of abstinence, loosed themselves into the cheetah's fingers.

She giggled. Sex was something she quite enjoyed, the feeling of sticky fingers a pleasant one. But she gasped when she saw the blood tinting the cum, making the cream a very pale pink shade. She wiped her fingers off on his stomach as he continued to ejaculate, each spurt making him groan into the panties and curl his toes, not entirely in pleasure. Every drop of his semen was tainted by blood.

"What the hell, are his balls already burst?" the goat asked, pouting.

"I don't think so," the cheetah said. "If they were, I don't think [i]anything[/i] would've come out."

The horse stepped up to the open end of the benches, staring down Jacob's bare groin like a football player lining up a field goal. The other girls all stood back, grinning and watching closely. The zebra took out her phone and started recording a video.

"Here it comes!" said the mare as she ran up, bringing up her hoof at the very end, smashing its hard, black keratin into Jacob's defenseless ballbag. Like a plow through a snowdrift, her hoof carved its way through his scrotum, partially ripping the sack and bursting the abused glands within like a pair of grapes.

The raccoon shrieked into the gag and then his vision wobbled, his world beginning to turn gray, then black. Abhorrent pain tried to make him unconscious, but it galvanized him at the same time. He jerked at his bonds, gasping, retching through the gag, pulling so forcefully that he made the benches budge, their wooden feet scooting on the tile.

"He's gonna barf," the cheetah said suddenly, pulling out the panties, tossing them aside. Instead of screaming, the raccoon wailed and groaned. He pulled at his bonds still. Panicked if not exhilarated by the violence, the girls all quickly untied him and ushered him to the bathroom as soupy, indistinct gore dribbled out of his split scrotum.

Jacob vomited into the toilet, and then he hauled himself onto the pot, trembling, whimpering, verging on shock. He tried to handle his decimated balls - but he knew as he looked upon the blood-soaked, deflated lump between his thighs that he no longer had balls to speak of. Blood wept from his penis but poured from his ruined scrotum.

The girls peered into the stall, all morbidly fascinated, and all of them filming with their cell phones. They watched, awed, as Jacob slumped against the tank, and then the wall of the stall, his body seizing with shock.

When Jacob convalesced that night in the hospital, he was informed by an apologetic male doctor that his gonads were total losses. Doped on morphine, he really didn't care. Then he was asked by someone else - he was not lucid enough to know who - just what had happened. The girls who had called 911 said he had slipped and landed, catching his groin on the edge of a bench.

Jacob murmured his agreement. Even doped out of his mind, he was content to admit to lethal idiocy rather than punishment for his perversion.

Then he was out again, and as he drifted away he had a single thought: No Nut November would be a breeze now.