Darmando
01-15-2007, 03:51 PM
I became addicted to ball torture early in my teens. Early in the fall of my freshman year of high school I was over at a friend’s house on a Sunday afternoon. His older sister and three of her friends were in their pool. The pool was going to be shut down for the winter in a week, so we didn’t listen when they insisted we couldn’t swim with them. We’d been in the pool for maybe only five minutes ignoring repeated demands we get out and leave them alone. I foolishly further antagonized my friend’s sister by pulling and snapping the top of her two piece suit. We ignored their whispered huddle thinking they wouldn’t dare do anything too drastic. No parents were home to intervene in the dispute and we felt confident we could prevail over girls.
We were horribly wrong. The girls jumped into the shallow end where we were, and before we could even react, we were each in a painful headlock and a girl was digging down into the front of our swim shorts. In seconds my balls were in the firm grasp of my friend’s sister, and he was similarly held by one of the bigger girls. Like most boys, I’d been hit there before but the pain of those fingers digging into my most precious and sensitive parts was way worse than any pain I’d ever felt.
We couldn’t break free, and as the pressure on my balls increased, all my struggle to get away stopped. My friend and I just screamed for mercy as best we could while trying to catch our breath. Pain was blasting up into my stomach like a fist, and the girls were pulling down so hard that our heads kept going under water just to relieve some of the pressure. Every scream ended in a choking gurgle. Water flooded into my pain wracked belly.
“Pull your suits off!” The girls commanded. “What??” I couldn’t believe what was happening was actually happening. “Take em off or we’ll twist these off!” “OK, OK, if you just let go a second we will!” my friend promised. Both of us quickly surrendered our trunks and watched in horror as they were thrown up onto the roof of the neighbor’s house. “Now get out of the pool.”
Our begging to not be ****** from what little cover the pool water provided only brought a new assault on our swollen and bruised balls, and soon we were both standing naked at the side of the pool. My friend’s penis was shrunken and pathetically smaller than I had ever seen it. His balls were badly swollen and his penis had virtually disappeared inside him, but mine was erect to what was probably 4 ½ inches and throbbing above my red and swollen scrotum. Both of us covered ourselves with our hands while mocking laughter burned our ears.
“Is that all freshman boys have?” The girls mocked and laughed telling us if we wanted to be let back in the house rather than stay locked outside naked we had close our eyes and put our hands on top of our heads. No sooner had I done so than a lightning fast series of 4 or 5 kicks to my already ravaged balls caused me to drop to my knees. My eyes were still closed, but I could hear my friend had been assaulted too. Then I came. More cum than I had ever shot in my life splatted onto the pool deck. My friend was curled on the deck in the fetal position. “Holy Shit, dude!” he groaned through his pain as some of it shot onto him. I don’t think he could comprehend what had happened or why.
I was hooked. I looked at his sister, my torturer, and the look she gave back told me she knew too. I never talked to my friend about it, because somehow I knew he wouldn’t understand, but until his sister went to college I went over when my friend wasn’t around maybe two or three times a month so she could hurt me. We never had sex in any conventional way, but she could torture the cum out of me - sometimes three or four times before I couldn’t stand any more pain. Sometimes she would use a paddle or strap but usually she would just squeeze my balls ‘til I came. On a few occasions I have found a woman who didn’t think it was too sick to cooperate in that way, and I can still squeeze my own balls to climax, but nothing I have ever felt has been as intense as those first experiences with ball torture.
We were horribly wrong. The girls jumped into the shallow end where we were, and before we could even react, we were each in a painful headlock and a girl was digging down into the front of our swim shorts. In seconds my balls were in the firm grasp of my friend’s sister, and he was similarly held by one of the bigger girls. Like most boys, I’d been hit there before but the pain of those fingers digging into my most precious and sensitive parts was way worse than any pain I’d ever felt.
We couldn’t break free, and as the pressure on my balls increased, all my struggle to get away stopped. My friend and I just screamed for mercy as best we could while trying to catch our breath. Pain was blasting up into my stomach like a fist, and the girls were pulling down so hard that our heads kept going under water just to relieve some of the pressure. Every scream ended in a choking gurgle. Water flooded into my pain wracked belly.
“Pull your suits off!” The girls commanded. “What??” I couldn’t believe what was happening was actually happening. “Take em off or we’ll twist these off!” “OK, OK, if you just let go a second we will!” my friend promised. Both of us quickly surrendered our trunks and watched in horror as they were thrown up onto the roof of the neighbor’s house. “Now get out of the pool.”
Our begging to not be ****** from what little cover the pool water provided only brought a new assault on our swollen and bruised balls, and soon we were both standing naked at the side of the pool. My friend’s penis was shrunken and pathetically smaller than I had ever seen it. His balls were badly swollen and his penis had virtually disappeared inside him, but mine was erect to what was probably 4 ½ inches and throbbing above my red and swollen scrotum. Both of us covered ourselves with our hands while mocking laughter burned our ears.
“Is that all freshman boys have?” The girls mocked and laughed telling us if we wanted to be let back in the house rather than stay locked outside naked we had close our eyes and put our hands on top of our heads. No sooner had I done so than a lightning fast series of 4 or 5 kicks to my already ravaged balls caused me to drop to my knees. My eyes were still closed, but I could hear my friend had been assaulted too. Then I came. More cum than I had ever shot in my life splatted onto the pool deck. My friend was curled on the deck in the fetal position. “Holy Shit, dude!” he groaned through his pain as some of it shot onto him. I don’t think he could comprehend what had happened or why.
I was hooked. I looked at his sister, my torturer, and the look she gave back told me she knew too. I never talked to my friend about it, because somehow I knew he wouldn’t understand, but until his sister went to college I went over when my friend wasn’t around maybe two or three times a month so she could hurt me. We never had sex in any conventional way, but she could torture the cum out of me - sometimes three or four times before I couldn’t stand any more pain. Sometimes she would use a paddle or strap but usually she would just squeeze my balls ‘til I came. On a few occasions I have found a woman who didn’t think it was too sick to cooperate in that way, and I can still squeeze my own balls to climax, but nothing I have ever felt has been as intense as those first experiences with ball torture.