inquisitiv
02-24-2005, 03:24 PM
I dislike pain intensely yet I now find my self addicted to ball busting. It is not something I understand but I blame her…..
She approached me in a Northern England nightclub almost 20 years ago. She said she liked the way I danced.
“Men who can dance can fuck”
I’d heard it before. It meant I was almost certainly ‘in there’ if I played my cards right. She looked pretty foxy – definitely worth a notch on the bedpost.
“I want to take you home and show you what its like to fuck a real woman”
The ones with the balls (pun intended) to make such a bold approach are usually pretty confident in their abilities (and normally rightly so). I’ve always liked the ones that make the first move. They’re definitely the dirty ones – and that’s the main criteria I look for in a woman (call me shallow). She had a couple of tattoos too. This is always a good sign. I’ve never met a really kinky woman who didn’t have them. That’s not to say all women with tattoos are kinky (sadly) but the kinky ones all seem to have tattoos. We didn’t waste time and were on our way back to the house I shared with a couple of female student friends by taxi within 10 minutes. My housemates were away so we had the place to ourselves.
We were kissing before the front door shut and left a trail of clothes up the stairs before we fell into bed. She asked me to tell her what I liked as she blew me. I held back but told her I liked the idea of restraining her (I didn’t want to scare her off so I didn’t give her the full story of what I fancied doing to her). She asked me if I had any rope and I let her into my secret stash of (mostly homemade) bondage equipment. Her eyes lit up.
“Would *YOU* like to be dominated?”
“Dunno, I’ve never tried it”
“Are you up for and experiment? I’ll make it worth your while”
The dirty cow intoxicated me.
“You let me tie you up and fuck you and I’ll then let you do anything you want with me”
“Anything?”
“Yes”
“It’s a deal”. She obviously didn’t know how pervy I could be. I was so turned on I think I’d have agreed to anything. She picked up two cheap dog collars I’d doctored and quickly had my arms tied to the top of the bed. By the time I tried to struggle it was too late. ‘How the fuck did I let myself get talked into this’ I thought to myself. ‘She could be a complete nutter’. She continued to blow me and I soon relaxed. It wasn’t long before I found myself with my legs tied up towards my head too. It was clear she was getting off on this too. I was a little disconcerted when she tied a strap around my balls.
“God this turns me on. You are so fucking helpless now big boy. These jewels are mine now”. She firmly rolled my balls around in her hand while continuing to wank me off. While it hurt, it was not an altogether unpleasant experience.
“I can do anything I want to these eggs…..are you scared?” I nodded. She slapped them hard. My guts wrenched. She hit them again. I screamed.
“Shut up you shit”. She grabbed by aching balls roughly and twisted.
“Open your mouth” she said as she bunched up her knickers and tried to stuff them in. I refused. She squeezed harder. I was unable to resist. I was petrified now. I could tell she was getting a REAL kick out of it. I could feel myself shaking with fear and inwardly cursed myself for being such a slave to my dick in the first place.
“I know you like it cuz your dick’s still hard”. She was right. I succumbed as she stroked it.
I was her helpless plaything.
“I’m going to give you a night you’ll never forget. Think about it…” she said as she left the room. I struggled hard to get free. My wrists and ankles were burning but it was no use. She came back with a bag. I guessed she’d been in the kitchen when she brought a large wooden spoon out of it. She hit my tethered balls with it hard. There was nowhere they could escape to. She giggled and proceeded to wank and hit me for the next 15 minutes or so - sometimes using other kitchen implements to inflict her sadistic torture. I was in agony and ecstasy. She obviously loved her work. As I came she really took it out on my nuts with the spoon and while it hurt like hell it was the most intense orgasm I’d ever had. It felt like she was beating the cum out of my balls. My nuts felt like mush. It was exhilarating. How I wished over the coming days that she’d stopped there.
Instead of stopping she increased her tortures. My dick was soft now. There was no pleasure only pain. I don’t know how long she beat me for or whether I remained conscious for all of it. Finally, she looked in the bag again.
“Shit, I forgot the carving knife. I’ll be back in a minute. In the meantime, think about what life’s going to be like without your balls”. She laughed as she left. I struggled again to get free. One of my wrists was becoming loose and I knew I had a chance to save my nuts. It felt like I was fighting for my life….
It actually took me the best part of 15 min to get free. When I did she was gone.
My balls ached for almost 4 days. I took the strongest cocktail of painkillers I could but it still didn’t seem to touch it. I even went to the doctors and said that I’d got them trapped while having intercourse. It was embarrassing. If the doc guessed it was some kind of S&M thing then he did a real good job of hiding it. He gave me some codeine to add into the mix and said he didn’t think that anything needed to doing, as they did not appear to be twisted. I remember he described testicles as having a strong outer wall and that if they get badly bruised there’s no real way for them to swell easily. This puts pressure on the nerves.. blah..blah.. blah. I could hardly hear him, all I could think about was the intense pain in my nuts. I didn’t know pain came that bad. I almost wished she had cut them off.
I vowed that I would *NEVER* let myself get into a situation like that again.
The weird thing is (and this is something that I still don’t understand to this day) once I’d healed I started to fantasize about that night. It’s as if I wanted to go through it all again (well the bit up to orgasm anyway). Regular sex seemed boring in comparison. I still masturbate thinking about that evening almost 20 years on! I sit here now with a dick as hard as steel as I write it all down for the first time. I still have her knickers. They’re here with me now. I must have wanked with them thousands of times.
Within a month of recovering I was even out searching to see if I could find her again. A couple of times my heart raced when I thought I’d seen her. I could feel my heart in my throat as I approached only to experienced a huge sense of disappointment once I realised that it wasn’t her. I never saw her again :-(
She said her name was Sue. She had a rose tattooed on the right shoulder and some other flower (daisy?) on her ankle so she’ll be pretty easy to identify. So if you’re out there Sue or whoever you are. The fact that I now frequent places like this, and get hugely turned on when a woman tells me (I think I still like the expectation more than the reality) that she’s going to REALLY bust my balls, is *YOUR* fault!
I wish I could see her again, even if just for an hour. I’d be happy to just talk to her. I’m inquisitiv as to what she got out of it all? Have any of you ladies ever busted a complete stranger? Would it turn you on to do so? I’m fascinated by what makes women like that tick. I think I’m addicted to them. I don’t understand myself on this one. In many ways such a woman would be my worst nightmare.
Times have moved on since then and its good to know, now that the internet has come along, that I’m not the only poor sod stricken with this fetish! I LOVE you guys (especially the mean ladies amongst you). I have a few more questions to ask my newfound community but these will have to wait until another day.
Sorry to rabbit on so…..
She approached me in a Northern England nightclub almost 20 years ago. She said she liked the way I danced.
“Men who can dance can fuck”
I’d heard it before. It meant I was almost certainly ‘in there’ if I played my cards right. She looked pretty foxy – definitely worth a notch on the bedpost.
“I want to take you home and show you what its like to fuck a real woman”
The ones with the balls (pun intended) to make such a bold approach are usually pretty confident in their abilities (and normally rightly so). I’ve always liked the ones that make the first move. They’re definitely the dirty ones – and that’s the main criteria I look for in a woman (call me shallow). She had a couple of tattoos too. This is always a good sign. I’ve never met a really kinky woman who didn’t have them. That’s not to say all women with tattoos are kinky (sadly) but the kinky ones all seem to have tattoos. We didn’t waste time and were on our way back to the house I shared with a couple of female student friends by taxi within 10 minutes. My housemates were away so we had the place to ourselves.
We were kissing before the front door shut and left a trail of clothes up the stairs before we fell into bed. She asked me to tell her what I liked as she blew me. I held back but told her I liked the idea of restraining her (I didn’t want to scare her off so I didn’t give her the full story of what I fancied doing to her). She asked me if I had any rope and I let her into my secret stash of (mostly homemade) bondage equipment. Her eyes lit up.
“Would *YOU* like to be dominated?”
“Dunno, I’ve never tried it”
“Are you up for and experiment? I’ll make it worth your while”
The dirty cow intoxicated me.
“You let me tie you up and fuck you and I’ll then let you do anything you want with me”
“Anything?”
“Yes”
“It’s a deal”. She obviously didn’t know how pervy I could be. I was so turned on I think I’d have agreed to anything. She picked up two cheap dog collars I’d doctored and quickly had my arms tied to the top of the bed. By the time I tried to struggle it was too late. ‘How the fuck did I let myself get talked into this’ I thought to myself. ‘She could be a complete nutter’. She continued to blow me and I soon relaxed. It wasn’t long before I found myself with my legs tied up towards my head too. It was clear she was getting off on this too. I was a little disconcerted when she tied a strap around my balls.
“God this turns me on. You are so fucking helpless now big boy. These jewels are mine now”. She firmly rolled my balls around in her hand while continuing to wank me off. While it hurt, it was not an altogether unpleasant experience.
“I can do anything I want to these eggs…..are you scared?” I nodded. She slapped them hard. My guts wrenched. She hit them again. I screamed.
“Shut up you shit”. She grabbed by aching balls roughly and twisted.
“Open your mouth” she said as she bunched up her knickers and tried to stuff them in. I refused. She squeezed harder. I was unable to resist. I was petrified now. I could tell she was getting a REAL kick out of it. I could feel myself shaking with fear and inwardly cursed myself for being such a slave to my dick in the first place.
“I know you like it cuz your dick’s still hard”. She was right. I succumbed as she stroked it.
I was her helpless plaything.
“I’m going to give you a night you’ll never forget. Think about it…” she said as she left the room. I struggled hard to get free. My wrists and ankles were burning but it was no use. She came back with a bag. I guessed she’d been in the kitchen when she brought a large wooden spoon out of it. She hit my tethered balls with it hard. There was nowhere they could escape to. She giggled and proceeded to wank and hit me for the next 15 minutes or so - sometimes using other kitchen implements to inflict her sadistic torture. I was in agony and ecstasy. She obviously loved her work. As I came she really took it out on my nuts with the spoon and while it hurt like hell it was the most intense orgasm I’d ever had. It felt like she was beating the cum out of my balls. My nuts felt like mush. It was exhilarating. How I wished over the coming days that she’d stopped there.
Instead of stopping she increased her tortures. My dick was soft now. There was no pleasure only pain. I don’t know how long she beat me for or whether I remained conscious for all of it. Finally, she looked in the bag again.
“Shit, I forgot the carving knife. I’ll be back in a minute. In the meantime, think about what life’s going to be like without your balls”. She laughed as she left. I struggled again to get free. One of my wrists was becoming loose and I knew I had a chance to save my nuts. It felt like I was fighting for my life….
It actually took me the best part of 15 min to get free. When I did she was gone.
My balls ached for almost 4 days. I took the strongest cocktail of painkillers I could but it still didn’t seem to touch it. I even went to the doctors and said that I’d got them trapped while having intercourse. It was embarrassing. If the doc guessed it was some kind of S&M thing then he did a real good job of hiding it. He gave me some codeine to add into the mix and said he didn’t think that anything needed to doing, as they did not appear to be twisted. I remember he described testicles as having a strong outer wall and that if they get badly bruised there’s no real way for them to swell easily. This puts pressure on the nerves.. blah..blah.. blah. I could hardly hear him, all I could think about was the intense pain in my nuts. I didn’t know pain came that bad. I almost wished she had cut them off.
I vowed that I would *NEVER* let myself get into a situation like that again.
The weird thing is (and this is something that I still don’t understand to this day) once I’d healed I started to fantasize about that night. It’s as if I wanted to go through it all again (well the bit up to orgasm anyway). Regular sex seemed boring in comparison. I still masturbate thinking about that evening almost 20 years on! I sit here now with a dick as hard as steel as I write it all down for the first time. I still have her knickers. They’re here with me now. I must have wanked with them thousands of times.
Within a month of recovering I was even out searching to see if I could find her again. A couple of times my heart raced when I thought I’d seen her. I could feel my heart in my throat as I approached only to experienced a huge sense of disappointment once I realised that it wasn’t her. I never saw her again :-(
She said her name was Sue. She had a rose tattooed on the right shoulder and some other flower (daisy?) on her ankle so she’ll be pretty easy to identify. So if you’re out there Sue or whoever you are. The fact that I now frequent places like this, and get hugely turned on when a woman tells me (I think I still like the expectation more than the reality) that she’s going to REALLY bust my balls, is *YOUR* fault!
I wish I could see her again, even if just for an hour. I’d be happy to just talk to her. I’m inquisitiv as to what she got out of it all? Have any of you ladies ever busted a complete stranger? Would it turn you on to do so? I’m fascinated by what makes women like that tick. I think I’m addicted to them. I don’t understand myself on this one. In many ways such a woman would be my worst nightmare.
Times have moved on since then and its good to know, now that the internet has come along, that I’m not the only poor sod stricken with this fetish! I LOVE you guys (especially the mean ladies amongst you). I have a few more questions to ask my newfound community but these will have to wait until another day.
Sorry to rabbit on so…..