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Antigone
12-18-2006, 06:36 AM
This is the fantasy I worked out in my head last time I jacked off:

My lovely new girlfriend gives me pleasure in many ways, she does me orally and with her hands and we do a lot of fucking. She's

always trying to get inside my head though. She wants to know all about my fantasies, the kinds of porn I like and so on. I'm kind

of reticent to share too much with her though, because I know I'm kinda out there. I'm afraid she'd leave me if she knew some of

my darker fantasies.

She keeps trying to learn what makes me tick though. She tries on different fantasies, different looks and verbal scenarios in the

bed. And she's sensitive to my responses. She knows how to read a lot by the hardness of my dick. She learns which things she

says make me harder inside her when we are fucking, where the stiffness doesn't lie and she can feel it very precisely.

Her exploring fingers also find those guilty secret turn-ons I have when watching movies. Lets face it, I'm a sensitive guy and that

stuff is never far from the surface. You'd almost have to be blind to see that I'm only barely hiding the way those humiliating

scenes turn me on.

As we grew to know each other better her bedroom talk became more and more brash and vulgar. It seemed ok as it was then for

her just a way to get a much harder fuck by telling me things I wanted to hear, and she didn't try to judge or understand why I

wanted to hear her say such cruel things to me.

"I bit your cock" she would keep reminding me as I rammed it home inside her cunt to warm splashes of pleasure, the icy sensation

in my stomach a reaction more to the idea of it than to the little nip she gave me during foreplay.

In time she learned that my boundaries were so elastic that I would still be feeling the sting of her teeth while my penis was deep

inside her pussy. And I liked to fancy that I felt that sting from a bite it recieved down there.

The further the fantasy went into that dark side the harder it became to recapture that icy feeling inside. But the talk and the

physical experimentation continued.

Sometimes it was "I bit your cock" and then sometimes it was "I busted your balls! Reward me with orgasms!" Which for so long

was mostly talk based on just a few little flicks and sucks and nibbles.

This changed more abruptly though a few days before Valentine's Day, when my lovely girlfriend told me (while fucking, of course)

that she wanted to bust my balls, for real. That hardened me up all right. I had rarely been so excited.

I told her that I didn't want to. Bedroom talk was fine, but I didn't feel like we needed to do something that extreme for real.

She gave me a sly look and contracted her cunt around my turgid hard-on and said "Come on, you know you want to. Just feel how

hard you are! You know I know that you want me to kick you where it hurts. I want to earn all these wonderful orgasms you are

giving to the bitch I'm always pretending to be."

There must have been something in the look on my face then, because there was a flash of recognition in her eyes and she gave a

knowing laugh. I protested again, saying I didn't want that, it was just something to think about and not do.

She said, "Oh, hush, you liar! Just shut up and fuck me. Let the anticipation turn you on and give me what I deserve. Of course I'm

going to kick you in the balls."

And what could I do? I hammered it home for all I was worth, driven like a force of nature by that dark possibility of nasty pain

given to a male by a sexy female who was protected by fate from ever feeling it. Nobody had the presence of mind to count how

many orgasms I gave her to wails of "I'm gonna bust your balls!" That is, until she could only wail inarticulately.

Once we had recovered enough to speak, yet were still pleasantly drowsy and unconcerned with the world she softly said, "I'm

serious, I really want to do it. I want to bust your balls."

"No." I said. "I told you that this was only fantasy. I want a woman who talks like a bitch in the bedroom but loves me the rest of

the time."

"Well I'll just have to be the bitch who loves you since you love the bitch."

And before I could get out much more of a protest she went on, "Valentines Day is in just a couple of days. This is what I want. I'll

kick you once in the nuts and your fantasy comes true. After that you'll be fucking the bitch who busted your balls every night after

that. You'll be rewarding me for cruelty to your manhood. ... Oh, I see you want to fuck some more."

Yeah, its pretty hard for a man to hide what he finds arousing.

She said that she'd plan it out. She didn't want me to get her anything else for Valnetines. I came home with flowers, chocolates, a

card and champaigne though. What kind of a cad doesn't get his girlfriend anything for Valentines? Really! And if I was going to go

through with this, I sure didn't want her to have a reason to be mad at me.

She didn't protest much either, or gush about how I shouldn't have. She seemed to take the tribute almost for granted actually and

got quickly down to business. We were going to do it by the Jacuzzi. She brought a mat for me to fall on. I was going to go down

then, after one kick as she saw it, and it was only my balls that she wanted to hurt. We were to spend some time loving in the

hottub first, because she wanted my balls to hang down where she was sure she would get them.

Into the warm water for me.

She also had a cloth-covered hair band. It would keep the balls from retracting at the last minute. "Oh, you don't have to put it on

right now! I want you to be comfortable for a while. Relax as much as you can."

And she poured me some champaigne.

"When its time to get out, after I put this band on you, I want you to slip back into your underwear too. I don't want your balls

rolling out of the way. You're going to take a good, solid hit."

Yes, her talk was exciting me, and the imminence of this attack had me nervous as well. The tip of my stiff dick brushed her belly

under the warm bubbling water, then her nipples brushed my chest and we shared warm, deep kisses.

After short time of this flirtation I turned away. She instantly gave me a mean look and with a tone of warning in her voice asked me

what was wrong.

"I really don't want to go through with this. As you keep saying, testicles are very delicate. I don't really want to get messed up by

this. If you do it too hard the rest of the night might not be able to go on so romantically... or the next few nights. I think some

fantasies are best left as just fantasies."

She stiffened. I felt rather jumpy to be sitting naked in a hot tub with her, since the reason of the evening was for her to strike at

my balls it seemed like every moment held the possibility that she would do this. No wonder I worried that I might incur her anger.

She only said in a cool tone, "You really need to go through with this. I'm sure it will improve our sex-life so much."

And in that I knew was a warning. I needed to satasfy her desires because I needed her so much. That was part of why my

fantasies tended to get so bizzare. That was why my boundaries could be pushed and pushed until it came to this. I just drank in

the sex, as if it sustained me. I was drawn to the deep dark sea of primitive emotion and sought to experience fear and inadequacy

as a way of sweetening my penis and letting the sperm flow. It was a release of so much emotion that I just kept pent-up in myself

otherwise. Why, even now I had just been reluctant to try to call off the ballbusting because I was afraid that I might never find

another chance to express my desire to see what it was like to be crumpled by a sexy woman and thank her and pleasure her

afterward.

I turned back toward her, "Please, honey, bust my balls. Of course I want it. We both know that. And its something I have to

experience. I want to know you as my sexy bitch, who disrespects my manhood."

She smiled a kind of evil looking smile and said, "That's right. How perfectly appropriate to hear you practically begging for it too!"

she ended with almost a squeal.

"Are you tender down there yet?" She stroked her hand down my belly and thigh and pulled firmly on my balls.

Deciding that they had decended enough under the influence of the warm water, champaigne and her gentle tittlations she ******

them through the hair band and gave me my briefs to put back on over them, while I was still in the water. She pulled them up tight

and adjusted the bulge. We got out and stood facing each other, standing on the exercise mat, me nervously and she with a sense

of confidence that seemed sexy and new. She looked critically at my crotch. I noticed that my wet briefs pulled up tightly gave her a

clear view of what to strike at.

She said, "Now remember, eye contact. Legs apart. Look me in the eyes while I'm doing this to you. Smile. Don't look at my legs.

Think about how sexy I am. Keep that hard-on. And let me see your soul in your eyes as I crush it."

This she all said very quickly as she stood with her hands on my shoulders, shifting her weight from one leg to the other and just a

breath after "crush it" I was lifted off my feet, her knee between my legs. I felt a sudden excrutiating pain and then a terrible deep

ache inside me, as I fell to my knees, and crumpled further at her feet. I was unable to get air. Oh, I'd been hurt a couple of times

as a kid from playing rough, but never like this!

As I lay there and moaned she put her foot on my side. I felt her skin and weight. I thought she was making fun of me, but I didn't

care. She was saying something about the inherent superiority of pussy. Only getting over the pain seemed important.

She didn't let me lay there holding myself for too long before she decided to try and get my underwear off.

She said, "Come on, don't play 'possum for ever. This is Valentines and we've got to have some romance."

I didn't feel capable of sitting up straight or walking and felt like it might be a long time before I would, to say nothing of romance. I

didn't want her messing with that part of me just then, but I was hardly in a position to do anything to stop her. She got the briefs

off, and then pried my fingers away and pulled the band off my balls with a yelp and a whimper from me.

She let me cup my balls but took my penis into her mouth. Somehow, with all the sensation down there she had little trouble getting

it to stiffen up so that she could work on it, thereby ******* another sensation on me, erotic stimulation simultaneous with that sexual

ache. I almost didn't want it, but it was the only good thing about my situation. She didn't let it last.

"So you aren't broken? That's good. Cause I am so looking forward to a good hard fuck tonight! Maybe this will help you get in the

mood..."

And she stood up, and then squatted down above my face and pissed. I never told her that I wanted that, or that it was ok. She

was just doing it to further humiliate me while I was down. Yet I did want it. It didn't feel good, and the fluid seemed suffocating as

it ran over my mouth but a part of me was wishing I was myself so that I could enjoy it, drink it in and savor it. But I could only

moan and push away the flow with the trickle of tears from my eyes.

Shortly she became bored and said, "Look dear, I'll help you back into the hottub as soon as you can move, but until then I'm going

to get back in the hot water myself and just drink up the champaigne."

And so I was left alone.

The minutes I was down seemed so long. The warm red ache where my balls had been throbbed and I felt that pain reaching up

through my stomach and my body in tendrils but in time I felt able to uncurl a bit and pay attention to what was around me. My

girlfriend noticed that I was looking at her and gave me a flirtatious wink and asked, "Feeling any better?"

I managed an "uh huh" and turned my head so that my lips touched the puddle of her piss left on the mat and slurped it up.

She grinned at me, her chin resting on her hands folded on the rim of the tub.

After she helped me back down into the water and I had some more soothing drink she sat facing me with my legs between hers,

though I tried to hold them somewhat open to avoid any unnecessary pressure. She kissed me and said, "I busted your balls!"

"Yes," I said.

Kiss.

"Am I sexy?"

"Yes."

Kiss.

"Do you love me?"

"Yes." I had better love her because now I was in pretty deep. We crossed a line and emotionally, and perhaps physically, I might

never be the same.

Kiss.

"You wanna fuck me?"

"Yes."

Kiss.

"Good. Then I can tell you about what I've done to you. I gave you a really hard bust; a full knee to confined balls. That's

supposedly one of the hardest blows you can give a guy. I've been reading about this on the internet for a while."

She kissed me again, but this time it wasn't just a light, girlish smooch, there was something of force, or invasion to it. A hint of

malice if faint. It was an assertion of dominance.

Close to me, and in a low, sultry, almost whispering voice she said, "And then I didn't get you any ice."

She looked into my eyes as if searching for understanding. She was reading my reactions closely.

"I busted your balls hard and didn't give you any ice to reduce the swelling. Instead I got you back into the hot water as soon as

possible," she smirked. "Of course its more romantic this way; warm and supple and swelling."

I cherished the smell of the breath that carried her cruel words. Why was I so attracted to a bitch? Why was it so obvious that even

my dear loving girlfriend felt like she should become one, and do such things to me that I was squirming inside now and shuddering

to realize?

"I'm being a super bitch. Not only have I hurt you, but I'm doing the wrong things to help you heal. Apparently doctors advise you

not to have sex for a few days after a blow to the nuts, but I want you to fuck me tonight. You want to do it too." She pressed

herself against me and whispered in my ear, "Just think how sexy it will be to thrust your way to a climax while knowing that climax

might be damaging your testicles. You realize you can't help yourself, you are driven by your instincts to hot sex even if it harms

the very root of your manhood."

So shortly we dried and went to bed. She drew out the foreplay and made it last. I pleased her and pleased her as she said, in

reward for injuring my manhood. I wasn't able to thrust as hard that night, my balls were too tender to bounce back and forth too

quickly, but I did my best, I gave it to her deep and made her tremble and moan with pleasure, sharing the knowledge that I was in

thrall to the woman who made me tremble and moan with pain. I came hard and felt something strange in me when I did, but kept

on pumping for her.

After some rest I found that she was determined to keep me cumming. I did get a Valentine's Day blowjob after all. And she let me

understand that I would have plenty more ejaculations over the next two days, when I ought to be letting my sore seminal vesicles

rest and heal.

The next day she thumped each testicle a bit with her fingers just to make sure my road to recovery wasn't too quick and easy.

And after that day her occasional rough grabs, thumps, and worse have only become more numerous.

There's something else that worries me though. I think it started with her picking up on something else while trying out an aural

fantasy that followed the early ballbusting. Somehow her phrase for egging on my hard thrusts evolved from "I ********* you with a

kick." to moans of "I want to ******** you so much!" everytime we make love.

Oh those words give me that delicious trembling icy feeling in my stomach even as they turn my dick into a silky steel horn that

burrows down in her. But the sense of loving outside the bed is touched with a creeping fear now, as I wonder if we can go on

agreeing that this is merely an exciting fantasy that we shouldn't make real.