more ballbusting, and a bit more...!
Jill began pleasuring herself. She rubbed her fingers against the lips of her vagina. It sounded as if she was already very wet.
Eve laughed, leaned back a little further, and scissored my bound testicle with her heavy and powerful legs.
I screamed. My screams were ignored. She tortured me viciously with her muscular legs, enjoying my pain and playing with it cruelly. As I tried to cope, in blinding agony, I became aware of another noise accompanying my own cries. It sounded as if Jill was beginning to climax.
Immediately Eve crushed her legs together even harder and held tight. She began to orgasm.
I was drowning in a sea of agony, losing consciousness, hearing their screams of ecstasy as my world of brutal and unrelenting pain faded away.
continued...still hungry for feedback!
She pulled her fist back over her shoulder, muscles bulging, then smashed it into my balls - aiming to catch the left one between my pubic bone and her hard knuckles.
As I screamed in agony she repeated the blow.
“Just four more!” I heard. Her next blow caught both my balls. She varied her aim but not her power with the next couple of punches.
“Last one, now?” she asked Jill, who nodded. “I’d better make it a very hard one, then, won’t I?” She looked at her target.
She pulled her arm further back, beginning to twist her muscular waist, building up the power. Then with a savage cry she unleashed a crushing punch into my balls, rocking me in my bonds. I nearly lost consciousness again as the pain welled to searing heights. I could hear them laughing.
Then Jill’s voice registered through the thick veil of agony.
“…and it’s…a Four! So that’ll be… squeezing right ball in both hands for 30 seconds, varying” she read out. “How many goes have we had, Eve?”
Eve thought for a moment, then smiled “Well, first I tortured his left ball, then you got me to do it again and do ballscissors on him...” they grinned, “…then it was my turn and I’ve just given his balls a good beating. So this is the fourth go. Then it’s one more each”
Jill was quiet for a moment. The agony began to ease off slightly.
“I’m really enjoying this, aren’t you, Eve?” she purred.
“Oh yeah!”
“Do you want to do this again? You know…next month?”
I began to protest weakly.
“I’d love to! And if he doesn’t want to…Well! He’s got no option, really, has he?” She flexed her arms and shoulder muscles. They could easily overpower me and do what they wanted to me. My wife looked delighted at her friend’s response, and mine.
“OK, sweetie! Just a bit of squeezing and then it’s your last two turns. For now!” she smiled.
She took my sore right ball in both her hands and began working on it.
Dramatic conclusion getting closer!
The agony crashed back, as her hard fingers found the most sensitive and damaged nerves to torment. I was thankful that it wasn’t my left ball she was working on. Then I wished it was.
I screamed as she continued enjoying torturing me. She’d ease off and then pile the pressure back on. If it was thirty seconds, it was the longest thirty seconds of my life.
Eventually she let go and stood back, watching me writhing and sweating. “Your last turn, Eve! This session, anyway!”
Eve grinned and took up the dice. She rolled it.
“A Two. 10 slaps again, I’m afraid! And I think I’ll concentrate on your right ball, now that Jill’s just made it even more…tender!” They laughed.
Not quite there yet! (these girls are a bit hardcore!)
“And for your final torture, sweetie, it’s…a…One! That's just slaps or something! Boring!”
She rolled again, smiling.
“A Two, would you believe! More slapping. More boring!” They were laughing.
She rolled again.
“Aha! At last! It’s a Six! Ball torture of my choice for two minutes…” she paused and looked at Eve conspiratorially. They grinned.
“Would you like us to untie you for this last one, sweetie? Your wrists look so sore, but I bet your balls are even more sore and painful, aren’t they?”
I nodded in confirmation and relief. This session was ending at last. They were untying me.
I lay on the bed, released, and began to move my arms and legs.
My feet and hands were tingling. My limbs were stiff. I didn’t know what Jill’s remaining two minutes of ball torture was going to be, but being untied was a relief. A step towards normality.
Suddenly they hauled me off the bed and held me up. I felt weak and could barely stand. Eve pulled my wrists behind my back and bound them. My stomach churned as relief turned to fear. They pushed me round to the foot of the bed where they bound my ankles to each side, ******* my legs apart. Jill climbed onto the bed behind me, put an arm around my throat and pulled me upright. I could hardly breathe.
Eve finished adjusting the cord around my ankle and rose up in front of me, tall and overpowering. She towered above me and smiled down at me over her heavy breasts. She put her big hands on my shoulders and leaned into me. I felt Jill pushing back behind me, tightening her arm round my throat, her breasts pushing against me.
Eve looked down into my pleading eyes.
“Jill said earlier I can have her go! I told her that I’d really love to knee you in the balls. I could have just kneed them while you were tied up on the bed, but I wanted to do it like this. I’ll be able to knee them harder. Use more muscle. And I’ll still be able to use my weight. Let’s see if it works…!”
Jill’s mouth was close by my ear, moaning softly in anticipation. I was moaning in fear. Eve was being so cold, so calculating. But so determined to hurt me.
She bent her powerful legs a little. I looked down at her thighs, flexing as she moved. She drew one leg back. The floorboards creaked under her shifting weight. Then she unleashed her taut muscles with a knee into my balls like a battering-ram.
Sequel? What works for U in the story, folks?
For a few days my balls still hurt. Every night Jill played with my penis but wouldn’t let me come. I was forbidden to relieve myself. She’d be able to tell when she next played with me, she said. She wanted to save my cum for the weekend. If I cheated, I’d pay for it. She was serious. I was frightened. But I dared to hope there was a promise there.
She went to the gym a couple more times than usual.
I still didn’t know what to think about what had happened. A couple of times in the week I tried to discuss it – what we’d done, what they wanted to do, what had hurt me too much, what I’d liked, what they’d liked. She always quickly and firmly deflected the conversation onto something else and wouldn’t talk about it. I got the message. It was going to happen.
I dreaded it.
But I was aching for it…
