skweezme
09-05-2007, 03:14 PM
Hi! I’m Jenny.
I’m going to tell you about how the three of us girls got into ball-busting.
I hope you’re paying attention!
It all started when we’d had a “Girls’ Night In” and we were on the wine.
Again.
Sheryl, Ann and me.
We always had a laugh. We’d known each other for ages.
Sheryl’s got better boobs and legs than me. And she’s prettier. But she’s a good mate anyway!
Ann’s more athletic. Goes to the gym a lot. Probably fitter than me, though I try to keep my figure. She’s a good mate, too, but she’s a bit unpredictable. Got a bit of a temper.
But we all got along amazingly well!
Sometimes we’d all go out together to pull. And we always did. We can be a pretty hot trio! Everyone back to our place and then anything goes. Or doesn’t, depending how we feel.
But we enjoyed our Nights In as well!
We’d sometimes watch TV or a film, but usually end up not watching it at all, just chatting about stuff and having a laugh. But this evening someone had flicked over to a documentary about a dominatrix.
She was describing what she did for a living. We all went quiet as she described the details – the contact, the negotiation. And what she did afterwards. The physical stuff.
My ears were burning. My mouth was dry.
She was stressing that it was all safe, sane and consensual.
But then came the film of her in her dungeon. It looked a bit extreme, even for TV at that time of night. Her victim seemed to be in real pain. They showed some whipping, and his reaction to what looked like off-camera ball squeezing or something.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing! He was paying her to do this to him?
Her voice-over explained that she was giving a professional service – but she was quite unfazed about enjoying it. And not just the money. It was the pain.
She loved inflicting pain on someone, someone who needed pain, or thought they did, she said.
Sometimes she could sense when a “client”, as she called them, would be grateful afterwards if she went a bit further than their perverse comfort zone. Really hurting them. She seemed to enjoy that the most and didn’t mind saying so. She relished it.
We were glued to the screen. My heart was hammering. I could feel the beat in my cunt.
The credits rolled.
An old Velvet Underground track played as the programme wound up.
I could feel my face glowing. I was embarrassed by how my body was reacting to what I’d just watched.
But then Sheryl said
“Wow! That’s made me wet! Sorry! Information overload!!” she giggled.
“That’s…ok…you perv!” said Ann, close to my left ear. She was still staring at the screen, too.
There was a moment. A cunt-beat.
Then we were all giggling. We were back to having a laugh.
But the spell wasn’t broken.
I couldn’t get that image out of my mind, the look he was giving her as she did something off-screen to him, making him beg over and over, desperate and adoring.
I’d never seen a man looking so…so cute! He was like a trapped deer, some pitiable animal. I felt for him. I wanted to torture him.
I’m going to tell you about how the three of us girls got into ball-busting.
I hope you’re paying attention!
It all started when we’d had a “Girls’ Night In” and we were on the wine.
Again.
Sheryl, Ann and me.
We always had a laugh. We’d known each other for ages.
Sheryl’s got better boobs and legs than me. And she’s prettier. But she’s a good mate anyway!
Ann’s more athletic. Goes to the gym a lot. Probably fitter than me, though I try to keep my figure. She’s a good mate, too, but she’s a bit unpredictable. Got a bit of a temper.
But we all got along amazingly well!
Sometimes we’d all go out together to pull. And we always did. We can be a pretty hot trio! Everyone back to our place and then anything goes. Or doesn’t, depending how we feel.
But we enjoyed our Nights In as well!
We’d sometimes watch TV or a film, but usually end up not watching it at all, just chatting about stuff and having a laugh. But this evening someone had flicked over to a documentary about a dominatrix.
She was describing what she did for a living. We all went quiet as she described the details – the contact, the negotiation. And what she did afterwards. The physical stuff.
My ears were burning. My mouth was dry.
She was stressing that it was all safe, sane and consensual.
But then came the film of her in her dungeon. It looked a bit extreme, even for TV at that time of night. Her victim seemed to be in real pain. They showed some whipping, and his reaction to what looked like off-camera ball squeezing or something.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing! He was paying her to do this to him?
Her voice-over explained that she was giving a professional service – but she was quite unfazed about enjoying it. And not just the money. It was the pain.
She loved inflicting pain on someone, someone who needed pain, or thought they did, she said.
Sometimes she could sense when a “client”, as she called them, would be grateful afterwards if she went a bit further than their perverse comfort zone. Really hurting them. She seemed to enjoy that the most and didn’t mind saying so. She relished it.
We were glued to the screen. My heart was hammering. I could feel the beat in my cunt.
The credits rolled.
An old Velvet Underground track played as the programme wound up.
I could feel my face glowing. I was embarrassed by how my body was reacting to what I’d just watched.
But then Sheryl said
“Wow! That’s made me wet! Sorry! Information overload!!” she giggled.
“That’s…ok…you perv!” said Ann, close to my left ear. She was still staring at the screen, too.
There was a moment. A cunt-beat.
Then we were all giggling. We were back to having a laugh.
But the spell wasn’t broken.
I couldn’t get that image out of my mind, the look he was giving her as she did something off-screen to him, making him beg over and over, desperate and adoring.
I’d never seen a man looking so…so cute! He was like a trapped deer, some pitiable animal. I felt for him. I wanted to torture him.