“Hup! Two, three, four. Hup!” Vincent chanted in his head out of habit, his boots clacking sharply in rhythm on the concrete sidewalk. The kangaroo stared determinedly ahead of himself, jogging like he was running laps for his drill sergeant. His jaw was set tight, paws clenched into fists as he ran, trying to keep his brain focused on the rhythm of his run and not the anger rolling around in his stomach like a bad meal. The soldier was home on leave, and up for honorable discharge if he was so inclined, but Vincent wanted to remain in the corp for another term. His father however, that peace-loving liberal bonehead, wanted him to stop ‘killing for a paycheck’ and come home to start a ‘respectable’ life. 
The kangaroo rolled his eyes, snorting through his nose. It was almost too much to keep his anger in check. They had argued over his career choice so many times, and yet neither of them would give any ground. A rift was growing between them, and after their last shouting match, Vincent had had to rush out of the house and go for a run just to keep from doing something stupid to his father. So now here he was, beating the pavement at dusk instead of at home beating his cock like he wanted to. Even now he could feel his junk slapping his thighs as he ran, only intensifying the need he felt in them. His jewels jangled like his dog-tags, heavy with cum. Vincent was so disciplined that when he was in the barracks, his shaft and nuts were the last thing on his mind. He felt it was the appropriate mindset for a soldier, even if it did cost him a pair of regulation briefs once a month. Like clockwork on the full-moon of the month, Vincent would wake up gasping and sweating on his bunk as he felt a warm flood gush into his regulation whitey-tighties. His overly full testicles could only hold so much before his libido would taunt him with a sexy dream and he’d bust a nut in his sleep. But even that hadn’t happened for almost three weeks now, since he’d been at home and so busy trying to reconnect with friends and family. The most he’d gotten to do with his dick is take a long leisurely time washing it in the shower, instead of the hasty scrubbing under luke-warm barracks water he was used to in the wee-hours of the morning. He was proudly uncut, unlike most of the other males he saw in the showers. It seemed many soldier families felt that the quicker their son’s could clean their ‘guns’ the better, but Vincent was mighty proud of the extra three inches of skin that covered his bulbous purple knob. Even though he was on a time limit, he’d always find time to make sure the guys on either side of him saw him slide it back, so his cockhead would be exposed. He’d make sure they’d see the shiver that’d go through him just from the water beating down on his exposed glans. He could almost smell their jealousy as he strutted out of the showers, knowing they were staring at their heat-tanned and brief-scrubbed cockheads with sooooooo much envy. 
Vincent stopped suddenly in his tracks. He realized he was wasting his time out here pounding the pavement when he could be locked in his room, pounding his dick. Who cared what his father thought? He was missing out on precious time alone with his best friend! He did an abrupt ‘about-face’ and began to jog in the other direction, feeling his cock and balls almost jump with eagerness as he did. The kangaroo was tall and muscular, very trim and neat in his appearance. He had the typical soldier’s body, chiseled from training. On it, he was wearing a white tanktop and a pair of camo-pants, along with tan-colored combat boots. His dog-tags jounced along on their beaded cord around his neck. He normally wore a pair of white briefs under those camo-pants, but he’d been out of clean ones this morning and was going commando for once. For being a soldier, he rarely ever got to go commando. The brass made sure that every soldier was as alike as possible, right down to the cotton cradling his family jewels. So he’d watched well-hung soldiers cram their cocks into tight white briefs, grimacing all the while, wishing for their loose comfortable boxers. He’d seen modestly sized peckers adjusted to fit in the tight cotton, hung, twisted and bent in various attempts to look bigger. He’d seen it all. So now as his naked, sweaty cock and balls slapped up and down in his pants, against his fly, against his thighs, and up between his legs against his taint, Vincent reveled in the ‘free-balling’, just enjoying the sensation of his male appendages flopping heavily between his legs. 
Vincent was a lucky kangaroo. His dad might’ve been a peace-loving beatnik, but he had some priceless family jewels to pass on to his son. The roo was graced with 8 inches between his legs, and it was as big around as a beer-bottle. He had perpetual low-hangers under it, kiwi-sized orbs that never drew up close to his dick, not even when he was about to shoot his wad. That fact combined with his soldier’s physique, his uncircumcised cock and swaggering nature had caused many a fellow soldier to cover his crotch and blush as warmth spread through his paws in wet sticky spurts, over-full nuts spilling just from seeing the roo-soldier strut by. 
By now, and with those thoughts circling his brain, Vincent was watching his house get bigger and bigger as he jogged toward it. Oh how glorious it was going to be to lock out the world and spend some quality time with his cock and balls. He was going to whack it like he did when he was a horny 16-year-old throwing bones over beer-commercials and sneaking peeks at his dad’s porno collection when he was home alone. He reached down, glancing from side to side as he jostled his bulge with one paw. He wanted to give his dad a little shock. He caught his cock through the fabric and pulled it with his paw, slowing his jog to a stride as he brought his cock to erection in his pants. It stood out from his groin, tenting the fabric of his crotch outward. He could see his father’s face now. “Where have you been?” he’d be saying. And Vincent would stop in his doorway, drop his zipper and let this big bad stiffy flop out and get some air as he’d casually reply, “Out getting horny.” He couldn’t wait to see his dad’s face as he slammed his door. He knew his mom could be a cold fish, it had been years since he’d heard their headboard bang the wall while he was trying to sleep. As much as Vincent blue-balled himself on purpose to be a good soldier, he was sure his dad was just as denied, but against his will. 
Vincent snickered, taking the front porch steps three at at a time, feeling his cock stretching out the fabric of his pants. He just couldn’t wait to swagger past his dad. He reached for the doorknob, ready to swing the door in and show his beatnik dad just who the boss was--it was locked. The door was locked. “Fuck me!” Vincent growled, stuffing his paws into his pockets, searching for his keys. “Oh FUCK me!” Vincent growled again, finding his pockets to be empty. In his haste and anger, he’d forgotten his house-keys. He raised a paw and banged on the door. “Open up! I forgot my keys!” but no one answered him. He leaned on the bell heavily, but again no one answered. Groaning with exasperation, Vincent jogged down the steps and around the side of the house, noting that his mother’s car was missing from the car-port. “Fuck, It’d be just like them to go off and see a movie or go eat tofu or some shit and leave me locked out. Guess I’m gonna be jackin’ it in the bushes...” he grumbled, walking around the house and hoping that the sliding glass door in the back yard would be open or at least unlocked. The kitchen light was on, shining through the glass door. His parent’s back yard was expansive, ringed by a high privacy fence and with nothing but trees on the back side of it, a patch of undeveloped land providing privacy for outdoor barbecues and nude-lounging, as Vincent was apt to do on his time at home. He went through the back gate and walked up to the door, putting his paw on the latch. He pulled, but it was locked. Vincent took a breath to cuss again, but it froze in his chest. He stared through the glass of the door with wide, shocked eyes. 
Inside the kitchen beyond the door, his father was busily fucking another man. He had the guy thrown across the kitchen table and was vigorously nailing him from behind, both his dad and the other guy facing the sliding glass door, but neither of them seemed to see Vincent standing there frozen like a statue. Vincent made motions with his mouth, gumming at empty air as his brain tried to process what he was staring at. So when his mind recognized the guy his dad was so happily humping, Vincent nearly fainted. By design or by coincidence, his father was in the middle of hot sweaty coitus with Vincent’s commanding officer, a large burly mastiff named Frank. Frank was still wearing the top half of his uniform, but his pants and white briefs were down around his boots, his thick cock slapping against the table as he yanked on it with one paw. Vincent could hear them dirty-talking faintly through the glass, but his brain couldn’t decode the words. It was all too much for the young kangaroo, though it dawned on him slowly that his erection hadn’t faded an inch. It was pressed up against the glass, as hard as stone. 
It was then that the figure crouched in the shadows beside Vincent’s house decided to make his move. Cloaked in black and wearing a white opera mask over his muzzle and face, the figure slipped out of the darkness and swiftly closed on Vincent as he stared numbly at the display of gay sex before him. The strong canine figure grabbed the young soldier and pressed him up against the sliding glass door, slamming his body against it enough to drive the breath from him. Shocked and stunned by seeing his father’s indiscretion, Vincent found himself unable to fight back. He couldn’t even look away from the scene in the kitchen. Not even when the unknown assailant jerked his pants down, and his hot erection found itself pressed against cold smooth glass. Vaguely, Vincent knew he needed to defend himself, but it was as though his brain was put under some sort of spell, a morbid fascination with what he was seeing that kept him from processing what was happening to him. He thought briefly that he hoped his dad saw his big dick pressed against the glass, hoped that seeing his son’s enormous endowment would somehow ruin his confidence and end the tryst with Vincent’s CO. However the spell broke abruptly when he felt strong fingers wrap around his low-hanging ballsack and stretch it downwards. 
“Hey! What the fuck! Let GO!” Vincent shouted, starting to pound on the glass door as he struggled. “Dad! Dad get my gun! FUCK!” he screamed, clambering against the glass for some kind of hold. Fear grew in his gut like a chunk of ice congealing in his innards, but alongside it a searing blast of arousal. His blood pumped like fire through his veins, a super-enhanced form of arousal. He had felt it once before, right after he had nearly died in the field. It was his body, churning with need to pass on his seed, to have sex. But why was he feeling it now, with this stranger pulling on his balls? And why was his dad not helping him? That question was quickly answered as he felt the cold steel of a knife press against the neck of his stretched out balls. “Oh gods, no! Not my BALLS!!!!” He screamed, his cock thrusting against the smooth glass leaving streaks of precum on it. He stared through the glass, watching his dad’s socked feet slipping on the linoleum as he fucked his hardest, staring at the discarded shirt hanging from the fridge handle, the pair of his dad’s boxers casually tossed aside on the floor. He watched his dad staring back at him, face twisting in pleasure as his mouth silently formed the words “I”m Cumming!” He saw the burst of white leave Frank’s cock, the big dog howling. And then he felt his nuts come off in the invader’s paw. It was a skilful cut that left Vincent’s knees weak and his legs trembling. His cock strained, his abs and groin tight as a bow-string as he sensed the assailant pull his severed nuts away from his groin. He clutched at the glass, mostly laying against it now as he felt his vision blurr. He stared at his own reflection in the glass, feeling a warm tingle between his legs but not knowing it was magic tending his wound. He looked down, panting as he felt his groin tense, then gagged softly as a long line of creamy white hit the glass in a sticky rope. He moaned, another long gooey line arcing over the smooth glass from his cock, the castrated Kangaroo’s body overstimulated beyond control. He groaned, a third blast of sticky white cum splattering the sliding glass door as his body started to slide down it. Each subsequent shot hit lower and lower on the door, his last fertile load of sperm left arced and smeared over the glass. He hit his knees in front of the door, staring at his cock as it flagged, softened. His father pulled out of his CO and walked across the linoleum to the glass door and slid it open, standing there with his cum and lube slickened cock standing out from his groin fully 10 inches long. “Oh my god, Vincent!” He cried, sounding shocked and aghast at what he saw. But he stared into Vincent’s face and the look in his eyes spoke volumes to the former soldier. ‘Without those, you won’t be a fit soldier anymore.’ 
“Oh Vincent, who did that to you? What happened? How long have you been standing there?” His dad cried convincingly, helping him to stand. He noticed belatedly there was no wound under his cock. His balls were just....gone... Frank was beside him now, helping him to stand, the mastiff’s eyes genuinely concerned. Vincent wondered if he was in on it, or if he had just not noticed him standing there against the glass, watching them, being castrated. The only one who knew for sure was the invader, slipping away across the yard with a stolen prize, and who had cast a special spell of concealing that had kept the mastiff soldier unaware of Vincent’s presence until after he had claimed what he wanted from the cocky young roo....