Why do we want to have our balls busted (penis cut off, etc.)?

[eunice]

Have any of you ever wondered why we want to be (or at least fantasize about being) hurt? i mean, having things done to our most sensitive and intimate body parts?

Would anybody mind me posting a rather long account of something that happened to me in my early teen years that might explain some of these urges in me? Its not directly ball busting, but i think it is relevant.

Let me know and i'll post it if it's OK with you all. i would also love to hear why you think you have these desires.

eunice

[fittizzioh]

I think it's ok to post experiences even if they are not directly related to ballbusting.

I usually wonder about similar problems and contradictions of human mind... I think the key (in my case) is that ballbusting is maybe the only form of contact "allowed" (self defense, fight) in public (it's not normally intended to be directly related to sex!)

In my case I think it used to be a sort of exploit to avoid thinking about sex and still have contacts with girls in a zone that normally is just sex related...

Ps: I just want to add that I prefer hands contact (squeezing, slapping and punches) and that I just like f/m bb (even if this is "mental wall" is slowly attenuating).

[cutponies]

Not at all eunice

In fact since I'm senior here, I'll take the plunge and tell you my story, as a sort of encouragement.

I was brought up on a farm. I knew all about Gelding. Why it was done, Etc. Mom was in charge.. Gramps old, Dad deceased. The method Mom used to ******** was quick, but it was bloody!

On day I was playing in the barn, pretending to be Tarzan swinging from the vines (ie) chains and ropes. It was past my bedtime, but it was summer, and still quite light. Like Tarzan, of the books, not the movies, I was naked as I played.

Mom came into the barn. I thought she was looking for me to send me to bed. No she began to prepare 4 young colts for what I knew was to be gelding. I had seen it done many times before and always enjoyed watching it. She looked around for the smock she always wore when doing "it", remembered that it was on the line after being washed, not dry yet.

Always the practical woman she simply undressed. I had never seen a woman naked before. I felt strange (wonder why) in a pleasant way that I had never felt before. Mom then proceeded to ******** the first young horse. I had an erection, my first. I guess boys have an instinct, because I began to masturbate. By "good , lucky, pre-ordained?" timing , I ejaculated just as the fourth horse lost his testicles.

That night I had my first wet dream. Mom was ********** in the nude, but this time four little boys.
And the boys were all me!


Fin

[eunice]

OK. Here goes then. This is a true story of one of my early humiliations. I should say several of my early humiliations. I should also apologize in advance for the length of the story, but it was a long day.


The day that I am going to recount was one of the most eventful I have ever lived and those events certainly have had a huge influence on my life. As this happened many years ago, and memory is never perfect, I have fleshed in some of the details, especially the dialog. It remains, however, a true story.

When I turned 14 years old I was still wetting the bed almost every night. This was, of course, humiliating to me but my younger sisters, Erin and Erica, twins born only 1 year after me, found it endlessly amusing. They often taunted me about it when Mummy wasn't around to stop them. My other sister, Jennifer, 2 years my senior, mostly ignored me and my problem except that her bedroom was next to mine and the hallway outside her door often smelled of urine. She made a point of telling her friends where the smell was coming from. My nightly "accidents" were naturally of concern to my Mummy but on top of that they caused her a lot of extra work and expense. At her wit's end, she spoke to the family doctor for the umpteenth time and he arranged for some tests to be done at the hospital to see if there was any physical abnormality involved.

So, a couple of weeks after my birthday, on a rainy Saturday morning, Mummy took me downtown to the hospital. Since Jennifer was busy playing in a soccer tournament and couldn't babysit, Erin and Erica, who just couldn't be trusted not to get into trouble, came with us.

Mummy took me into Admitting and checked me in. Then a nurse came and led me down long, branching hallways, through several sets of double doors until I was hopelessly lost. Eventually she put me in a small room, gave me a hospital gown and told me to remove all of my clothes, put on the gown and lay on my back on the gurney, which was the only piece of furniture in the room except for a chair. Being a 14 year old boy, I knew nothing of hospital gowns and so I put it on with the opening at the front, like a shirt. When the nurse came back into the room she found me laying on my back trying to hide my penis from her view. She sort of laughed, in a nice way though, and told me to get up and put the gown on with the opening at the back. She watched as I did this which of course embarrassed me. The embarrassment caused my penis to stiffen up, which caused more embarrassment, which caused my penis to.... Well, I'm sure you get the idea. She gave another little laugh, saying that my "reaction" was perfectly normal for a 14 year old boy and that I shouldn't be embarrassed. She told me to get back on the gurney and then left the room.

A few minutes later the door opened and a man come into the room. He told me he was a nurse and that he was going to prepare me for the procedure. He asked if I knew what was going to be done to me that day. When I replied that I had no idea at all he explained everything to me.

He was going to insert a rubber tube called a catheter into my penis right up into my bladder. He warned me that when the tip of the catheter pushed past my sphincter into my bladder, I would not be able to hold in my urine and that I shouldn't even try. When my bladder was empty, I was going to go into the x-ray department. There, another nurse would attach a bag full of dye to the end of the catheter. This was a dye which would show up on an x-ray. The nurse would then fill up my bladder with the dye and partially remove the catheter. At that point I would be able to hold my water again. Then, when told to do so, I would let the dye out, just as if I was urinating, while they took x-rays of my belly. Hopefully the doctors would be able to see if there was any physical cause behind my bed wetting.

So the male nurse did his job. Thankfully, my erection had subsided. Anyway, the moment the catheter enters into the bladder, you lose control of your urine. It just starts running out and there is nothing you can do. Humbling to say the least. Anyway, once the catheter was in and my bladder empty, he taped my penis and the catheter to the inside of my thigh, pulled down the front of my gown and wheeled me out of the little room and down the hall to Radiology. There I was met by another nurse (or maybe an x-ray tech), female this time.

Everybody had been very nice and this woman was no different. She asked if I knew what was going to happen and I told her that the male nurse had explained everything to me. "Any questions?" she asked. "Will it hurt?" I replied. She told me that the insertion and removal of the catheter caused some discomfort but normally not pain. If anything hurt me, I should tell her right away. She said that when she filled my bladder with the dye, I would have a very strong urge to urinate, which would be uncomfortable, but that I would have to do my very best to hold it in until she gave me permission to let go.

"Any more questions?" She wanted to be sure I was ready to go. She was actually very pretty and I started to blush under her attention. "Listen," she said, "I know that you probably feel embarrassed but you shouldn't. This is our job. We do it everyday. Many boys have the same problem as you do. We just want to help you. So, should we start?"

I mumbled under my breath that it was OK. She took the bag of dye and attached it to end of the catheter then raised the bag up a few inches. I could see the liquid running down inside the catheter and into my penis. A few seconds later, I felt it starting to fill my bladder. As my bladder filled, the increasing pressure caused a very common reaction. I started to get another erection. A couple of minutes later the nurse announced that she thought there was enough dye in my bladder.

She untaped the catheter from my thigh, then, ignoring my erection, she held the tip of my penis in one hand while she slowly withdrew the catheter with the other. She said, "Now you are going to have to hold in the dye yourself. Are you ready?"

I nodded to indicate that I was. I didn't want to speak as I was concentrating furiously on holding my bladder. She pulled out a couple of more inches of the catheter, taped it once again to my leg and unhooked the bag of dye. She then placed the end of the catheter into a basin to catch the dye as I released it. Admonishing me not let go of my bladder until I was told, she rearranged me on the gurney, placed a little plate of lead over my testicles and went into the control room.

Once there, she called out to me to remain motionless and to release my bladder. A couple of seconds later, the x-ray machine started to click, buzz and whir. As she emerged from the control room, she called out to me to stop the flow my bladder. Try as I might, I couldn't. "Don't worry about it then. It's alright." she reassured me. "We'll just have to reinsert the catheter and refill your bladder." she explained. "Did you have an erection when the catheter was being inserted the first time?" she asked gently.

I felt like my face had gone beet red and managed to stammer out that I hadn't. "Well, this might hurt a tiny bit then this time, but if its more than a tiny bit, I want you to tell me right away," she told me in the nicest possible manner. "Understood?"

A barely audible "Yes ma'am" was my reply.

"OK then." She untaped both my penis and the catheter from my leg and very slowly started to reinsert the catheter. When it breached my sphincter, the last remaining bit of dye ran out into the basin. "There," she sighed, "That wasn't too bad, was it?" Not waiting for an answer, she continued, "Now we'll just fill your bladder with dye one more time."

So, after the nurse had finished taping up my penis and the catheter and had hooked up the bag of dye, I once again watched the dye flow down the tube and into my penis and then felt the pressure build up in my bladder. The nurse completed the preparation, finishing by placing me in the correct position for the x-ray and again placing a small piece of lead over my testicles. "We want you to be able to make babies when you grow up," she explained.

With that she went back to the control room to took the second x-ray. When the procedure was complete she came back out. "There. All done," she announced. She untaped my penis and slowly withdrew the entire catheter. "I bet you're glad that's all done!"

"Yes, ma'am," I replied, although if I had been truthful, I might have said that I wasn't really sure. Having my penis put on display in front of several strangers, male and female, some of them touching it, manipulating, inserting objects into it, all in a very impersonal way, had been an embarrassing and even humiliating experience. It had also been oddly exciting. But I couldn't tell her that.

She asked me if I wanted to walk back to the room where my clothes had been left, or if I wanted to be wheeled on the gurney. I said I would walk. "Good boy! We'll just call for an aide to show you the way then." she said. She made a short phone call and a couple of minutes later a young candy-striper came in, took me in charge, and showed me back to room where it had all started. She waited outside while I got dressed and then led me back to Admitting, where Mummy waited.

I was very subdued as we walked through the rain back to the car. My sisters were their usual boisterous selves, Erin asking me, "What did they do to you? Come on! Tell us!"

Mummy ordered her to leave me alone but she insisted in pestering me. Erica, on the other hand, was snickering and giggling to herself, nudging Erin in the ribs and whispering in her ear. This continued all the way to the car.

Once there, with my sisters installed in the back seat and me up front beside Mummy, we got under way. As we made our way through the traffic, I noticed that Mummy was glancing over at me quite often. Then, while we were stopped at a red light, she turned to me, "I'm sorry you had to go through that," she said softly. "I didn't know what the procedure involved until a nurse explained it to me this morning," she continued.

Before I could say anything, although I didn't have any real response anyway, Erin broke in, asking, "What did they do? What did they do?"

"Come on. Tell us!" she urged.

"Erin, be quiet!" Mummy ordered her. "This doesn't concern you."

"I bet I know what they did!" my other sister, Erica, fairly shouted.

"You do not!" Mummy admonished her. "Now leave your brother alone."

"I do too!" Erica would not be silenced. "They stuck a rubber tube into his penis and filled him up with dye and then took pictures while he peed it out again," she proudly proved that she did know.

Erin started squealing excitedly, "No! Did they? Did they, really? In his penis?" This was apparently hilarious as both of my sisters shrieked with laughter. I slouched down in my seat, trying to disappear, blushing as red as a rose.

Mummy quickly found a place to pull over. "Where did you hear that, young lady?" she demanded.

"I was just around the corner when the nurse told you. I heard everything she said." Erica was defiant and unapologetic. "They put a tube up his penis..." she started to repeat her story.

"Quiet!" Mummy cut her off. "That's enough!" She was truly and visibly angry and Erica decided, for once, not to push her luck.

Turning to me, Mummy apologized, "I'm sorry, sweetie." This brought a little snicker from the back seat which was quickly cut off when Mummy turned to face the girls again.

"I don't want to ever hear either of you two bring this up again!" she ordered. "It is none of your business." Then, turning to Erica, "And you shouldn't listen to other people's conversations."

"Now that's the end of it!" she declared, as she restarted the car finished driving us all back home.

Of course that wasn't the end of it. Whenever Mummy wasn't around and my little sisters were feeling cruel, they would bring it up. They used the knowledge to blackmail me on several occasions, threatening to tell the story to other girls at school.

Although my sexual "personality" was probably already largely determined before I was 14 years old, the events of that day almost certainly put some flesh on those bones, so to speak. Being naked in front of strangers, having my penis manipulated by both males and females, the utter loss of control caused by catheterization, being mocked by my younger sisters. There is enough fuel there for a lifetime of insecurity.

[tim157b157]

the story was ok have any more