Futa Ballbusting: Dark Lord


Being the ‘Dark Lord’ was fun, at first.

Back in the good old days of my bid for world conquest, I was a frontline soldier! I towered above the battlefield in my black armor, bashed in heads, and witnessed exactly how each muscle in a person’s face could bend and contort to show true terror! I made the plans, I crafted my soldiers, I looted villages and cities, but victory was never a sure thing! I simply didn’t have the magic reserves to pump out an endless amount of soldiers, I even lost battles occasionally!

It was great, it really was.

But then my domain grew so vast, and I went to war on so many fronts, that I just couldn’t fight on the front lines anymore. I had to actually administrate the territory I conquered… When I wasn’t doing that, all my free time was spent in the vast spawning pits at the deepest point in my dungeon, brewing new slaves and soldiers by the thousands…

Life just seemed so… Empty.

Weather I created an emergency batch of slaves to build a massive forge that pumped out supplies, imbued certain batches with magical abilities, or read one of my General’s plans for an invasion and started a new batch of warriors, it was all so heart wrenchingly boring and mundane!!

The one, singular reason why I never killed myself or abandoned my forces to go start again somewhere else, is because I really loved my slaves, and they all loved me.

Now, to clarify, ‘slave’ was a term I used before I realized that my creations would have consciousness, but I’m awful at naming so it stuck.

Imagine a petite, feminine creature covered in soft, light tan fur. They had pointy ears, four moth wings hovering about an inch off their back, and reverse jointed legs that end in these absurdly soft paws. Approximately a third of these creatures were women, and the rest are futas, like me.

Of course, none had nuts bigger than mine!

In fact, it was a standing policy that all futas with testicles so much as half as big as mine were to be sack tapped at every opportunity!

Don’t worry, they liked it. They all even had a special property that made their nuts more sensitive than a human, but they were sort of elastic. Their nuts could be crushed under a hundred pounds of weight, then, when you took the weight off, you could see them slowly start to retake their shape! It was actually pretty mesmerizing.

…Listen man! I’d been really busy and, when this story takes place, I hadn’t had sex in something like three years! Trying to pleasure one of my slaves in bed was a lot harder than just punching one between the legs and jerking off to the sensation of her orbs squishing against my knuckles!

I wonder how much time I would have saved over the years if I neutered myself and no longer had to bust one out before bed.

I never could have done it of course, my slaves would have been mortified. They actually had a market for dildo’s that are the PRECISE measurements of my genitals, if you can believe it.

Anyway, on an average Monday afternoon, I was in my office for my scheduled 14 minutes of lunch before I returned to encoding reports from the frontlines and making notes on what specialties and immunities the next batch of Warriors would need. Ironically, the army up to the far north needed to be fire resistant since everyone up there knew at least some fire magic.

My navy needed slaves that are good swimmers, and theres a forest to the east that needed Warriors with better night vision. Not only did I need to decode the messages, but I also needed to rate them by importance since the spawning pits could only make one type of creature at a time.

I tended to stay in my office because I saved a total of three minutes by not walking to the cafeteria I spent four months of my life perfecting.

Ahh… I remember making that cafeteria… My magic wasn’t as developed back then so we had to lay every brick by hand. Heh, then, after a hard days work, we’d all head into this giant bath together and bully the futas who got hard looking at my naked body.

But there’s was this one futa, Cassandra, and she was a eunuch! No matter what any of us tried, her dick just refused to work, so everyone got insulted when she didn’t get hard from looking at me!

She must have had her nuts squished like… Fifty times over the course of building that cafeteria.

I have a great memory and remember each and every slave I ever made, but Cassandra was the only slave from my very first batch that was still alive, and relevant, when this happened.

So, my office was a mostly square room with a desk in the center, but, the walls jut inwards after passing my desk, like a trapezoid. Directly to my left and right are walls and built into the walls were dumbwaiters. The right one sent me paperwork, and when it was finished, I put the papers in the left one to send out. This system kept things efficient and prevented clutter.

For the rest of the room, there were several torches of blue fire, and the carpet was red. The wallpaper pealed in many istanbul travesti places, and there was no furniture besides a couch on the left wall.

At precisely 12:30, when my lunch break started, Cassandra and five other futa slaves entered my room.

I raised my eyebrows as I didn’t see a tray of food with them. They were all naked, but that’s normal.

I spoke up, my voice clear. “What’s going on?”

“Master!” Cassandra stepped forward. She had a smile on her face, and her fur was more ruffled and unkempt than anyone else’s. It was really the only way you could tell she was the oldest slave I had. Oh, and as a side note my slaves did age, but taking a bath in the spawning pits every few years reversed it. Nobody figured that out until Cassandra was the first slave to live past 15 years.

“We’ve noticed you’ve been feeling down lately,” Cassandra continued, “and we’re here to cheer you up! Instead of lunch, I’ve designed a game to help boost your spirits and exercise your brain!!” She put her hands on her hips, clearly proud of what she did.


“The game is simple! Each slave comes from a different batch, each with a unique trait about them. Now, I had Sasha (the Head Keeper of my dungeon, I granted some batches a little of my magic to keep the place running as I work, she was the most proficient at magic) use her freaky voodoo to switch all the genitals around, so it’s your job to find out which pair o’ nuts belongs to which slave!! But! There are some rules. In order to accurately test your knowledge of each batch, you’re not allowed to just bash one in the balls to see who reacts, and you can’t do the same thing twice!! For example, you’ve probably noticed that Hirrial (each slave wanted a unique name, but all the normal ones like Cassandra or Sasha were taken fairly early on) over there,” the one on the far left waved, “is from the fire resistant batch of slaves. You could take a candle to someone’s sack to see if they don’t react, but then you’re not allowed to use fire on anyone else! Also, as a hint, two people don’t share genitals with each other. Sound fair?”

“…” I gripped the bridge of my nose. “Cassandra, I’m really busy with everything, I need to eat-“

“Oh no no! I can’t let you, Master! We’ve all seen you walk around with that dead look in your eyes and it’s terrible! We’re not leaving until you at least try to finish this puzzle, and I’m not going to stop trying to cheer you up until you’re cheered up!!”

I looked at her eyes, they were light green and filled with such determination. Looking at the other five, they had similar looking expressions, but that might be because all my slaves, generally, had the exact same face with only slight differences per batch.

With a sigh, I stood up and went around my desk. “Fine.”

From left to right, their names were Hirrial, Vierth, Duchy, snowbell (with a lowercase ‘s’), and Triey.

From left to right, the special trait of their batches were to: resist fire, stay extremely composed, not enjoy ballbusting, have hair trigger orgasms, and absolutely despise getting their fur wet.

“This should be easy.” I turned to Cassandra. “When I get done in the next fifteen seconds, will you get my food?”

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “Yes Master.”

First, I was wearing a long red skirt with a slit going up to my left waist and black tights underneath. My top was a red button up long sleeve shirt with gold trims.

With that in mind, I seductively sat on my desk, moving the robes just out of the way so all five could see my hips, which were only covered in such a thin piece of fabric. Then, I undid only one button at the center of my shirt, and pulled it enough so everyone has a clear, unobstructed view of my bra, which was light blue with an intricate design of flowers.

“Once this is over,” I said, my words delicate and slow, “I’ll be ever so grateful to the one who gets me my food… I might even have certain… ‘Rewards’… In mind.”

With that, only two slaves didn’t get rock hard erections. Cassandra, and Hirral.

I buttoned myself and stood. “Vierth’s cock is on Hirral.”

Cassandra instantly realized her plan wasn’t going to work how she hoped.

“Uh,” snowbell said, “but is there actually a reward for getting you your food or…”

Everyone looked to me with pleading eyes, they all knew it had been three years since I last had sex and they all wanted to be the one to pleasure me.

“Good question.” I reached behind my desk and pulled out a stress ball. “I changed my mind. You’re all getting me food, and the last person who does-.” I grabbed a pen and stabbed it down into the stress ball, puncturing it directly through the center. “-You might not be able to sit down for a few days.”

With that, Triey’s dick went soft.

“And that means Duchy’s sack is on Triey.”

Cassandra pouted.

With that in mind, I went over to Duchy and had to bend over slightly as the top of her head barely reached istanbul travestileri my chest. I lightly slid my finger along the underside of Duchy’s penis, and nothing happened. This means that she couldn’t have snowbell’s genitals.

Then I splashed Vierth’s member with a cup of water that was on my desk, and Triey didn’t freak out from having wet fur, so Vierth can’t have Triey’s.

At that point, it was easy to figure out who had who’s nuts.

Hirral had Vierth’s.

Triey had Duchy’s.

Duchy couldn’t have snowbell’s.

Vierth couldn’t have Triey’s.

Let me put it this way with what I knew.

Slave: D__V__T__H__s

Who’s privates they had:?__?__D__V__?

With that in mind, because D couldn’t have s, V couldn’t have T, and two people couldn’t share genitals with each other it had to go like this:



As I explained this to my slaves, I grabbed a candle, lifted Duchy’s cock, and set her balls on fire.

Just as I suspected, nobody reacted because she had Hirral’s sack, and Hirral was immune to fire.

“Ha!!” Cassandra yelled as she pointed at me. “Master! You’re a fool!! I’ve successfully tricked you!”


“You see, you failed to realize that I was part of this game! You just didn’t notice since because I have Vierth’s, so when you showed your boobs, the reason I didn’t get hard was due to her composure, and the reason Hirral didn’t get hard was because she has mine!” She punches herself in the balls to show her point, and Vierth falls to the ground in pain. Her batches composure was more like getting your dick sucked under a table at dinner and not letting anyone else know, not ignoring hits to the nads.”So the real answer would be:



“…Okay… Congratulations? What was the point of that?”

“Well… I thought you’d get something wrong but not realize it, so when you set somebody’s balls on fire they’d roll around in pain.” She grabbed her chin. “I’m not really sure what went wrong.”

My eyes were half closed. “You’re an idiot.” I went back to my desk. “Now go get my food already.”

“Do you feel better?” She asked with a smile.

“I’m slightly annoyed that I have to work as I eat to make up for lost time, and I guess that’s slightly better than ‘dead inside’, so yeah, sure.”

Cassandra’s moth wings fluttered her moth wings as she jumps in the air. “YESSS!”

As she was in the air, Vierth, who had already recovered from Cassandra punch to her balls, kneed Hirral between the legs, which made Cassandra collapse in mid air, and my tired brain was having a hard time following everything so I used my magic to shoo them out of my office.

Cassandra later waddled back into my room with my food. She normally liked to be naked, but she wore a fur colored apron for some reason.

“What’s wrong?”

“I-!” Her voice was squeaky, as if someone had her balls in a vice. “Vierth didn’t like that surprise hit..! Did you know her batch was really spiteful?”


“I didn’t…” She put the tray on my desk and crumbled to the ground. “In the cafeteria… She had Hirral, who has my set… Put my balls in the deep fry grease until I get back..!”

“Welp… That’s… Okay. Need help getting back?”

“No thanks!” She squeaked. “I’ve already got plans for tomorrow!”

She limped out of the door, and a few seconds later I heard a blood curdling scream. I recognized it as the screams she yells when she orgasms.

Later, I’d find out that the cook caught Hirral sticking her dick in the grease (the problem being that nobody wants to find deep-fried dick fur on their fries) and then used a tenderizing hammer to flatten her testicles. Hirral didn’t react though, so the cook just kept pounding them.

Cassandra would later say ‘it was easily the hardest orgasm I’ve had in a long time’ and then she winked at me with her tongue out a little.

The next day, I was busy with similar paperwork, and Cassandra came in just after breakfast. She was wearing fur colored underwear, which indicated that her balls were still sore and she didn’t want to be hit.

“Master! I’ve got it!” She marched in with a remote in her hand and slammed it on my desk. “I made Sasha stay up all night making this!”

“…What is it?”

“It’s a device that’ll squish the nuts of the nearest futa! I’ve got a new game lined up for you!”

I looked down at it. “…With this thing attack mine?”

The proud look on her face was wiped away as she snatched the remote and sprinted out of my office, her moth wings fluttered to give her extra speed.

The next day, she came back and put the remote on my desk again, her underwear now gone. “Alright, Sasha confirmed that it would have made your jewels go pop, but don’t worry, it won’t now! Your jewels are safe!” I’m not sure how this started, but the most common way my slaves refer to my testicles is to istanbul travesti call them my ‘jewels’.

“Fine. What’s this game you had in mind?”

“Whenever somebody walks in, we take bets on whether they’re a woman or a futa, then you press that button to check! If they’re consumed in agonizing pain, then we know they’re a futa!”

“…I see several flaws with this game.”

“Don’t worry Master, I’m not an idiot! I’ve talked to everyone and they’ve agreed to wear baggy pants so you won’t be able to see anything!”

“That’s… Fine.”

She nodded triumphantly, then sat down and waited for somebody to come in.

I actually liked this plan of hers as it involved me getting quite a lot of work done.

Eventually, my concentration was ruined thanks to somebody walking in. I built those dumbwaiters for a reason, it’s inefficient to have someone manually bring me my paperwork.

The slave looked exactly the same as everyone else but wore light tan sweatpants. It was clear that she didn’t enjoy having them touch or constrict her fur. She was also topless, though the fur kept anything from being noticeable.

“Ooh!! Master! It’s time! So, what do you think? I think my money’s on futa!”

I rolled my eyes. “Cassandra, there are two problems with your plan. Actually, three.”

“What’s that?”

“One, you don’t have any money to bet. Two, I know all of my slaves. I was there when each crawled out of the spawning pits. This is V-git, a woman born from last year’s December 2nd spawning.” V-git blushed under her fur, amazed by how great my memory is. “There’s no guessing involved as I know for a fact who she is. Third.” I pressed the button, and a surprised, agonized scream immediately penetrated the walls of my dungeon. “This remote squishes the nearest futa’s testicles? We can’t play this game as somebody, somewhere, is going to be in a load of pain, and she won’t know why her balls were suddenly put in a vice.” I crushed the remote in my hand. “We can’t play this game.”

While I would learn later that the nearest futa was in an office right behind me, sorting papers based on date, and she loved the distraction, I believe my point still stands.

Cassandra scoffed at me and stomped past V-git in a huff. I went back to doing work, but she poked her head in one last time.

“Why do you hate fun?! Just let me make you have fun!!” Then she left

V-git glanced between me and the doorway. “…Does that mean I can take this stupid thing off?” She tugged at the hips of her pants.

“Yes. And it would be ‘these’ as ‘pants’ are plural.”

“Ha! You’re really funny Master, why would it be plural if it’s one piece of fabric?” She easily ripped off the pants thanks to the strength I made her batch with, threw them over her shoulder, and left.

It was quite a while since I last looked at the schools in my dungeon. What other little things were being taught that were blatantly wrong?

“W-wait… Weren’t you supposed… To deliver my paperwork?”

I never did find out what happened to those papers. I wonder if it was important.

Anyway, I didn’t see Cassandra until six days later, when I was working with Sasha in the spawning pits.

Basically, the single deepest region in my dungeon, the deepest part you could go in the entire world, was a series of caves. In those caves, I had built several pools of green, bubbling slime. The slime was a bright, neon green that stayed around 76 degrees. It was sticky and thick, but since severed parts gravitated towards the larger mass, simply getting out of the pool would get all the slime off of you.

It also worked slightly better than a shower since the slime could feed off dead skin and dirt and all that.

As for what we were doing, I wanted to teach Sasha how to create new batches of slaves. My thought process was that, if I could teach her to make new batches of slaves, then my workload would be less, which means I could spend time doing other things.

Sasha looked like every other slave, except her batch has a higher natural talent for magic, and the best asses out of any batch I ever made. I was never been able to make butts better than theirs! She was just as small and petite as any other slave, but each cheek was bigger than her waist! It was incredible! But see, in my many attempts to replicate them, sometimes they weren’t firm enough, sometimes the waist was off, and sometimes I made their asses a little too big. Sasha’s batch had the best. End of story.

Unfortunately, her outfit, which denoted her as my one of my Keepers, covered her assets a little too much for my liking. It was a mostly black set of robes, one single piece of fabric that ended in a thin ankle length skirt, had long open sleeves, and a hood, though they usually didn’t have the hood up. It had red trims, and, for Sasha, the bulk of the empty black canvas was covered with golden pictures, each sewn on to denote a magic spell she had sufficiently mastered. Her four moth wings, which were distended just off my slaves back, floated on the other side of the fabric.

Originally these robes were going to be thicker, but after I saw how fantastic her batches bodies were, I changed it to a more loose, flowy fabric, so the robes would delicately slide down her form and show off every detail. Also small gust of wind revealed everything.

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