THE CROP CIRCLE: Extreme Horror by Kevin Sweeney

Author:Kevin Sweeney [Sweeney, Kevin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Rainbows Press
Published: 2021-05-30T22:00:00+00:00

*****

Of course he’d cared for Raffles, as well as a guinea pig with a broken leg that had come in mid-week, but the main reason Dillon had wanted to take over the night shifts was so that he would be alone, with full access to the surgery.

He’d begun by working on his balls.

(thought a mouse had sneeze on her)

He’d administered a local aesthetic and waited until he was sure he was numb. He’d tested by pinching the thick, rubbery skin of his scrotum together, and then pushed a sewing needle through the wad of flesh.

He’d felt the metal sliver pass in and out of himself, but it didn’t hurt.

He sat himself on the stainless steel table, arranging his tools on his right. The yellow haz-mat bucket was to his left, as he wouldn’t need that just yet.

He had a hose and face mask that would normally be used to administer aesthetic to the animal under surgery. He put the mask on and it only just covered his mouth, leaving his nose free, but he did not attach the end of the tube to a tank. He breathed through his nose. No problem. He held the plastic tube in front of his palm and blew hard into the mask; air puffed onto the middle of his hand.

Dillon picked up a scalpel. He breathed through his nose.

He pinched his scrotum again, and made a quick cut about an inch long in it, just deep enough to breach through the skin but not so deep as to cut into the tunica vaginalis, the fatty tissue that sheathed his testes.

He dropped the scalpel and pushed the end of the tube into the bleeding slit he had made. He pinched the skin closed around it.

Then he began to blow into the face mask, drawing in air through his nose and then exhaling out hard through his mouth.

Doing this, he forced air into his scrotum.

It began to inflate like a balloon, swelling from a small, neat bag the size of a single hen’s egg into a wobbling roundness the size of a tennis ball.

It was working.

Bigger.

He kept breathing in through his nose and breathing out through his mouth until his ball bag was as big as a large grapefruit, his cock a small pink stalk sticking up from the base. The skin had begun to turn shiny by being stretched, with capillaries quite clearly visible between pubic hair which grew further apart as he inflated himself.

Bigger.

He had to squeeze tighter around the base of the tube, pinching the skin airtight, and he had to breathe harder to force more air into himself. The natural elasticity of his scrotal sack was being pushed far beyond what it was used to. He knew there was no danger of bursting, but it was resisting more as the pressure inside increased.

When the jiggling air bladder attached to his crotch was the size of a honeydew melon he decided to stop.

He pulled the tube out with a bloody, sucking little sound, his pinching fingers snapping tight on the cut.

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