Pain, Personified (1): Learning the Hard Way

This is actually written from the perspective of a female character from another one of my stories, Dragon Slaying. That story might be worth checking out if you don't mind the idea of a male dragon getting the spunk beaten out of his balls by various women, but if that's not quite your thing, at least you've got this spin-off :P Enjoy!

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So Poiu tells me that some of you guys like this stuff, which is...interesting, to say the least. Not the reaction I usually get. Still, it's always nice to find another soul who appreciates dropping men to the floor, so the more the merrier I suppose.


I guess I'm not being very clear so far -- let me introduce myself. The name's Kayla. I'm a village leader in the southern plains, and I've got a reputation as a bit of a bitch...which is a bit of an exaggeration. I'm actually a pretty friendly individual, if you try talking to me. I just happen to have a personality quirk that about 50% of the population disapproves of: I enjoy kicking guys in the balls. A lot. Honestly, what girl doesn't?


Yeah, I know, I probably just made all the guys cringe. What can I say? I am what I am, and you are what you are. Not my fault you were born male.


Chances are if you've heard of me before you've also heard at least some of the rumors. I don't wanna spend too much time on those right now, but lemme set at least a few things straight for the guys:

- No, for the hundredth time, I wasn't raped as a kid or anything like that. I don't hate men, I like busting balls. Big difference.

- No, the women in my village are not all ballbusters. (Not all of them.)

- Yes, I'm straight. Why else would guys even come near me?

- The rumor about me being used as a military interrogator is false, though I'm not 100% sure I'd say no if they asked.

- The rolling pin one is true, but he completely deserved it, and I left him with one anyway.


And also, to answer a few questions the girls always end up asking:

- There are lots of good methods, but recently I've been very fond of squeezing. It's nice when you can really feel a guy's grapes squirm between your fingers.

- Barefoot? Usually three or four kicks, but I can do it in one if you really piss me off.
- The biggest I've seen were around the size of lemons, actually. Poor guy.
- Yes, sometimes the pop is audible.

- No, they don't taste like chicken. (Unless they come from a rooster, I guess.)



You're probably wondering how a nice girl like me gets into ballbusting in the first place, right? Heh. It's kind of a long story, actually, so maybe I'll tell it to you later. For now, suffice it to say that it runs in the family. My mother was a pretty prolific ballbuster in her day -- in fact, she continues to be now. That might explain why she's never held on to any one guy for very long. I mean, even my dad was just a one-night thing, some guy who knocked up my mom and staggered out with bruised balls in the morning. With that kind of a history, I guess it's no surprise that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Ballbusting has always just seemed natural to me. I mean, why would a guy's nuts be hanging out there if you weren't meant to have some fun with 'em? That's what Mom always said.

Anyway, that's a topic for another time -- right now I want to talk about something else. Specifically, someone else: my first boyfriend, Deke. After all, if it was my mother who got me interested in crushing nuts, it was Deke who gave me the experience.


Ever since I hit puberty, I haven't had a problem attracting men -- hell, I've probably starred in more fantasies and wet dreams than you could count. I know I've got a body and I'm not shy about it, and well, that tends to make the guys come running. (Or just come.) Maybe that's one of the reasons I've always seen males as somewhat expendable. After all, with everyone drooling over me, I've pretty much got my pick of the men. There are enough studs around here -- even if you don't wanna put up with me, I can certainly find someone else who does.


Of course, that body didn't really come until I was in my teens -- at least, not the important parts, the parts that made the guys pay attention. It's hard to pinpoint exactly when the change happened, but I do remember lying in bed one morning, rolling onto my stomach and suddenly realizing that I'd grown some breasts. By that time, the curves had already started elsewhere, running down through my hips and legs, and within another couple weeks I'd really started to attract the boys' interest. After that, all I had to do was wear a short skirt one morning and I had hooked my first boyfriend by noon.


Now, I'd never made a secret of the fact that I was a ballbuster -- I'd racked most of the village males around my age at least once -- so when Deke and I started dating, he knew what he was getting into. Or at least, I'm sure he thought he did. Sure, I'd kicked those rubbery eggs of his a couple of times before, left him crumpled on his knees, but even I didn't realize just how into it I'd get. I'd never had a pair of nuts to myself before, and now that I did, it was time to try out all the things I'd been wanting to...


Deke was a year older than me, a total athlete, just coming into his prime -- and of course, as any man should, he had the equipment to match. His balls were the ones I really honed my craft on: two big, low-hanging plums, that felt just perfect when they were flattened against my knee or crushed beneath my toes. He had the first pair of bare balls I ever sunk my thumbs into -- or my teeth, for that matter, though I only managed to do that a few times. When I look back on it, it's a wonder he let me do all the things I did to his poor nuts...though maybe not a surprise. After all, he was right at that age where a guy will do just about anything for a girl to get him off. He was quick to forgive another kick in the spuds when I was slurping down his cock, or rubbing it between my tits, helping him blow another load. He tried to break up with me a few times, but I always managed to rope him back in with my body, whatever it took. Once he tried to end it at a restaurant, out in public so I couldn't pull anything, but I just got down and blew him under the table -- without a tablecloth. He pretty much stopped trying to break up after that.


It wasn't like I didn't enjoy the sex, either. I mean, he was hung, and I took full advantage of that fact -- after all, I enjoyed seeing him quiver in pleasure almost as much as I enjoyed seeing him quiver in pain. I even let him take my virginity, though only after a long, long session of cracking his nuts (nature's birth control, you know). I'd let him fuck me with my hand around his balls, ready to squeeze if he was too close to cumming...or just if I felt like it. It's cute to see a guy keep trying to thrust when his knees are buckling beneath him. Sometimes I'd ride him until he was right on the edge, then clamp down on his nuts until he went soft...then repeat...and repeat...and repeat. It got me off like nothing else, and it made his balls swell like you wouldn't believe. When he finally busted a nut it was like a geyser.


All in all we dated for about six months, and during that time it was glorious -- glorious to have a male that was mine, with a package I could use or abuse as I pleased. As any real ballbuster will tell you, spend enough time crushing one pair of balls and you really get to know 'em backwards and forwards. I spent so much time bashing those babymakers of his that by the end, I knew just how to go after Deke's balls to get the reaction I wanted.


Of course, that was only after I'd spent some time experimenting. About a month into our relationship, his parents had to leave the village for a few days...so I invited him to my place. His parents were a little skeptical about leaving their teenage son alone with his girlfriend, but they agreed to it with some reassurance from my mom. (God bless 'er -- I told her my 'plans' and she got even more excited than I was. Happy to see her daughter was growing up into a proper ballbuster, I guess.)


The first night was the best -- before he understood what was about to happen. We fooled around for a little while, like we usually did, until I ended up lying on top of him in a sixty-nine position. This accomplished several things. First of all, I had direct access to his balls -- and his cock, for those times when I felt like sucking on something. Second, he had direct access to me, which never hurt. Third -- and this was what he didn't know about yet -- from on top of him I could feel every last movement he made, every tremble and vibration that told me how much pain he was in. It was the perfect feedback system, particularly with his face buried between my legs. The more agony Deke was in, the more he would shake, and the more pleasure I would feel. (I wish I could say I was clever enough to come up with the idea on my own, but again, it was my mother who was the real ballbusting pioneer in our family.)


Long story short, the rest of the night was spent introducing Deke to the joys of nutsqueezing...long, painful nutsqueezing. At first I had trouble keeping him conscious, which was frustrating. After all, there's not much of a point to bashing a guy's nuts if he's not awake to feel it. I was a fast learner, though, and soon I figured out what his limits were, how to maximize the pain without making him faint. Of course, that was only the beginning -- after a few more hours of experimentation, pinching and prodding and flattening those heavy orbs of his, I started to really understand how to get what I wanted. I knew how to squeeze to make him pass out, of course, but I also knew how to squeeze to make his voice jump an octave, how to squeeze to make him squeal so loud he woke up the neighbors, even how to squeeze the cum straight out of his balls, so that it dribbled thickly from the tip of his cock. I did that for a while, squishing those spunk-filled pods of his between my fingers and drinking his seed straight from the tap. I think that was the only time I ever deep-throated him, too -- I usually had trouble cramming a solid seven inches of cock down my throat, but I was so turned on at the time that I just sucked the whole thing down. Too bad he didn't seem to enjoy it.


That was basically how we spent the next several days: me, busting Deke to my heart's content, and Deke, just trying to make sure he still had balls for me to bust. Oh, and my mother, who would occasionally stop in to see how we were doing or to show me something I hadn't yet discovered on my own. Of course, we didn't spend the whole time just squeezing -- the next morning we moved on to slaps, and then punches, and then kicks, which turned out to be my favorite. I didn't really understand how destructive a kick could be until my mother demonstrated the proper technique: putting your body behind it, catching both nuts on top of your foot, and flattening them into the pelvis. She had Deke get on his hands and knees for her to demonstrate, and then kicked him so hard -- I swear I'm not making this up -- that not only did his lower body leave the ground, but his entire body flipped over, head over heels, so that he crashed on his back. It was inspiring. That was first time I ever heard that kind of mewling from a guy -- Deke, hands wrapped around whatever was left of his balls, making these ungodly noises as he rocked back and forth in the fetal position. We had to give him an hour or two to recover before we moved on.


The next day involved stomping, a little bit of biting (though by this point, they had swollen too big to fit in my mouth), and some kneeing. I really enjoy a good knee, too -- there's a certain satisfaction in walking up to a guy all slow and sultry, then suddenly slamming a knee up between his legs. It's oddly enjoyable, feeling your target slide down your thigh afterwards...and with Deke naked, I could even feel his nuts pancaked against my skin, which was stimulating to say the least. (Another advantage of kneeing: it is quite possible to jill yourself silly while you pound on your male.)


I finally stopped the morning before he went home. It was hard, but I had to make sure Deke could walk, or his parents'd probably be more than a little suspicious. I laid him out on my bed and spent the day giving him icepacks and painkillers, trying make sure his balls would at least fit in his pants when we put them back on. Meanwhile, my mom helped me satisfy my new-found ballbusting craving by telling me stories about her own experiences, reminiscing about all the guys she'd racked when she was younger. Lemme tell ya, testicles are a surprisingly good subject for mother-daughter bonding time.


Before his parents arrived to pick him up, we stuffed him back into his clothes and made sure he could move on his own. He seemed alright enough. I was still worried that he was going to tell his parents what had happened, but on the way out the door my mother pulled him aside and whispered something in his ear, and then...well, let's just say I've never seen a guy turn that white, even with his gonads beneath my feet. Needless to say, I don't think his parents ever heard. Afterwards, I asked my mom what she had said, but to this day she refuses to tell me.


Anyway, that weekend pretty much set the tone for the rest of our relationship. Of course, at first he wanted to break up with me, and as a result I had to turn up the sex quite a bit to stop him from running away. It's not like I minded, though -- we were both horny teenagers, and he was a good fuck. Besides, once I'd given him a week or two to get used to the idea, he became pretty tolerant. He was never all that dominant a personality to begin with, and I guess after a weekend like that, a simple kick in the nuts didn't seem quite as unbearable any more. Good thing, too: I don't think there was a single day we spent together after that where I didn't rack him at least once. That's how the next few months passed. I continued to try out all sorts of stuff whenever I had the chance: some of it focused on his cock, some of it focused on his balls, but all of it focused on my pleasure. I'd always get him to squeal, one way or another.


Then, well...then I learned something new.


We were at my place again, on a Saturday night. I'd been out of town with my mother, so we hadn't seen each other for a week, and as a result we were both raring to go. I figured I'd help him release some tension before we did anything else, so I started things out by giving him a nice, slow blowjob, sucking on that thick pole of his -- and blow he did. Deke was always a producer, no matter what state his balls were in, but I guess with a full week away from my usual abuse they'd really been able to kick into overdrive. I couldn't swallow more than the first shot or two, so he ended up pretty much covering my chest in spunk before he finally ran out of juice.


Of course, with his orgasm out of the way, now it was time for mine...and I knew exactly what I'd been missing for the past week. Before he could even settle into his afterglow, my foot was in his junk, stomping away. There's nothing quite like a guy's nuggets between your toes, after all. Immediately he was squealing, trying to pull my leg away, but that was nothing unusual. Guys always do that when you're crushing their nuts, even if it's just a couple kicks. Sure, he seemed a bit more frantic than normal, but he'd just blown a load, and he hadn't been busted for a week -- of course he was a little sensitive. We'd done this plenty of times before, though. I didn't think it was anything special until I realized his sack felt a lot emptier than usual, and by then...well, by then the damage was done.


Now, you'd think that a girl as dedicated to nut-bashing as me would know that they can pop, but somehow that knowledge had escaped me until just then. I mean, I'd masturbated to the thought of squashing 'em flat, but I always assumed they'd, I dunno, reinflate afterwards. My mother never told me, either -- I guess she wanted me to discover it for myself. So you can imagine what a surprise it was when I realized those two egg-sized orbs of Deke's, the pair that I'd enjoyed tormenting for so long, were suddenly...gone. I guess I must have grown, because we'd definitely done this kind of stomping before without any problem.


I wasn't even freaked out, really, once I got over my initial shock -- if anything, I was disappointed that I hadn't felt 'em pop. I mean, here was a whole side of crushing nuts that I hadn't even known existed! Deke was out cold, so I poked at his pouch for a while, feeling the remnants of his manhood slosh around my toes, when suddenly it hit me: I'd destroyed a male. He was never going to produce any spunk again. Suddenly I was very self-conscious of my tits, still sticky with the last of his seed, dripping down in trails towards my soaking slit. A part of me felt guilty -- after all, he was a nice boy, and I did like him -- but a much larger part was getting hornier by the second. I thought of his nuts in that low-hanging ballsac, slowly distorting under my feet, the rubbery orbs begging for relief...until *pop* they burst, flattened one too many times for the male to take. The thought made me unbearably wet, and before I knew it I was thrusting one hand in and out of my cunt, squeezing my breasts with the other, mewling my own high-pitched cry as I came harder than I ever had before. I must have worked through a good dozen orgasms or so, sitting there, frigging myself silly. The whole time I kept one foot pressed into his groin, thinking of all the torture his nuts had gone through before they finally gave up and burst. God, even thinking about it now gets me all hot and bothered. A girl's first nut-popping is a very special moment, you know.


It was kinda funny, actually -- even though he was unconscious, and his nuts were definitely gone, Deke couldn't seem to escape the pain. Every time I came I'd tense up, and my foot would push into his groin -- and his legs would twitch, like he could still feel me squashing his balls. Hell, I bet he still has phantom pains now, poor kid.


Anyway, even through all this, I managed to keep some presence of mind. After I'd spent a good couple minutes fingering myself, I scraped some of the spunk off my chest and dumped it into a cup, so that he'd at least have a chance of having kids some day. Of course, once I'd done that I went right back to masturbating. I even fooled around with his cock for a while, stroking that limp monster and thinking about all the times I'd seen it spurt. I've always considered it a compliment to my talents that I managed to get him hard again, even right after he'd lost his spuds. And of course, once I had him standing at attention, I couldn't let a fuckstick like his go to waste...wouldn't you know, he was still a good lay even without half his equipment.


Eventually, once I'd tired myself out, I realized that there was quite a bit of stuff I had to deal with -- for one thing, his parents were going to be pissed. This is where my mother came in. I told her what had happened, and once she got over her initial joy, she managed to piece together some sort of crazy story. The three of us had been thatching the roof, and Deke had fallen off onto the fencepost in just the wrong way, landed right on his groin...it was a bit farfetched, sure, but you try coming up with something better. When we broke the news, his parents were obviously upset and more than a bit suspicious, but Deke was still frightened enough of me and my mother than he corroborated the story, and they were pretty well convinced after that. By the time we showed them the semen we'd managed to 'save' from his flattened balls, they were actually thanking us.


Deke and I broke up pretty shortly after that, unsurprisingly. It was definitely a bit of a bummer than I no longer had my go-to ballbusting boy, but I was still able to take it out on other men around the village. It was a nice change of pace, actually, to go from busting one pair of nuts to busting several dozen. It's funny how different people react. Besides, even if I hadn't had other people to rack, I now had a memory that was more than enough to get me off any time I wanted. It'd be months before I felt the need to really go out and bust someone again...but that's a story for another time.

Back Alley Ballpopping

This is just a short blurb, but it came out pretty well, so it's worth reposting. It also inspired this set of 3d renders by animation223322, so if you're looking for some visual material to go with your text, this may be the story for you.

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The woman bent over, hands on her knees, chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath.

"Not bad," the man huffed, a bit short of wind himself. "I like it when they've got a bit of fight in 'em."

"Shut up!" she spat back, wiping the cold sweat from her forehead. "Leave me the fuck alone!"

Her assailant smirked, a lewd grin spreading across his face. He reached down absently, stroking at the thick member that throbbed between his legs. "Oh no, miss, I'm afraid I'm not done with you yet..."

The woman saw him start to move and tried to protect herself, but was knocked to the ground as the male rushed her. She cried out as she landed on her back, the ground scratching angrily at her bare skin. She let out a quiet groan and looked up to find the man standing over her, a sickeningly smug look on his face. His engorged cock hung heavily a few feet in front of her, bobbing slightly with his heartbeat.

"Well?" he asked, placing his hands on his hips as his eyes roamed over her naked upper body. "What do you say we make this easy, eh? You've got a hell of a rack -- if you're willing to cooperate, I might just titfuck you and let you be on your way."

Her jaw dropped. "How...how can you do this?!"

He smirked again. "With a body like yours, how could I not? So what do you say: are you gonna play nice, or do I have to get mean?"

The woman was shocked silent for a moment before she was overcome with a renewed rage. Her attacker obviously had the upper hand, but she still wanted to get up and beat the stuffing out of him, hit him so hard he couldn't stand up for a week -- and then something caught her eye. He was standing with his legs slightly spread, her legs positioned beneath him, perfectly placed for a hard kick in the--

"There's only one way I'd ever willingly touch someone like you," she replied, slowly drawing her legs back, rearing to strike. Her eyes hardened. "Like this!"

The man had only a moment to be confused before her feet slammed up into his testicles, crushing them against his pelvis. His eyes flew open as his hands instinctively went to his crotch, only to find the woman's powerful legs pumping upwards.

"Oh...oh God!" he finally managed to squeak, body shaking in pain. "My balls, my balls!"

"My balls," the woman growled, gritting her teeth as she pulled her feet back and launched them into his jewels again. She could feel the rubbery orbs against her feet as she made contact: could feel the nutflesh squish between her toes as she mangled his manhood.

This time the man let out a long, keen wail, desperately clutching at her legs as her toes scrambled his eggs. "My BALLS!" he screamed, clawing at her calves. "My BALLS!"

She unleashed a third and final kick up into the man's gonads, this one knocking him backwards onto the ground. He landed with a thud and a groan, instantly curling to protect his tenderized testicles. The woman took a second to breathe before shakily climbing to her feet, all the while watching the male in front of her.

The rapist, for his part, was trying to regain his senses. His balls had never been treated that way before, never been abused so harshly. After all, testicles were for male pleasure: for women to suck on and worship like the life-giving organs that they were. An adrenalized surge of anger rushed through him. How dare she? He'd show the bitch her place. From the fetal position he suddenly whirled, ready to strike, and--

--And stopped, a look of absolute shock on his face, as he felt a foot come down to rest on his unprotected balls.

"Wha--!" he stuttered, jerking instinctively backwards only to stop with an unintelligible squawk as she bore down harder on his jewels, pinning them underfoot. His balls were stretched painfully from his crotch, nearly halfway to his knees, forcing him to scuttle forwards to relieve the tension.

The female watched with an amused smile, appraising her would-be rapist's package with her foot as he struggled for composure. Her smile grew wider as she realized just how well he had been endowed. A pity balls like that are wasted on someone like him, she thought to herself.

"Well," she stated, looking down at the supine male. "What have we here?"

He fought to control both the anger and the fear in his voice as he replied. "What the hell," he spat, "are you doing?"

She glared. "You were just trying to rape me. What does it look like I'm doing?"

The man snarled. "Listen, bitch, get your foot off my baaaaahh!" he cried out as the woman pressed down, sending a wave of pain through his gut.

She scowled down at him. "Listen, asshole," she growled menacingly, "if you want me to pop 'em right now, just call me 'bitch' again."

He looked up at his busty target, fear slowly spreading across his face. "But you -- you couldn't possibly--"

"Oh can't I?" She grinned down cruelly at him, flexing her toes atop his ballsac. "Self-defense. Who are the police going to listen to, the big burly man or the defenseless little girl? I can do whatever I damn well want, and that includes busting your sorry balls." She folded her arms across her chest. "Hate to break it to you, but you're fucked."

The man tried to slow his speeding heart; he could feel the cold sweat forming on his body. "You -- you don't have the guts!"

She snorted. "After what you just tried to pull? Besides, let's just say I've got some experience." She caught the quick look of shock that flickered across his face. "Yeah, that's right. Usually just kicks and knees, but sometimes, well...last time was an accident, but that doesn't mean my ex is any less of a eunuch."

Her rapist's eyes grew wide. "No -- no, please," he begged, trembling beneath the female. "Oh god, please, you wouldn't!"

The woman laughed and leaned over, offering him a perfect view of her generous tits. "Oh," she half-growled, half-breathed, staring directly back at him, "oh, I would."

"They're my testicles!" he cried, desperate, trying to ignore the foot resting on his groin. "You can't, please! You're not a man -- you don't understand the pain!"

"You know," she remarked, ignoring his pleas as she rolled his nuts beneath the sole of her foot, "it's funny. These little things are the source of all your strength, and yet they're so--" The woman paused and felt his nuts for a moment, playing with the twin orbs. She stopped. "So vulnerable," she finished with a grin.

"Oh goaaggh!" he choked, doubling over in pain as she applied pressure to his unprotected manhood. Instinctively he reached for her calf, trying to pull her leg from his groin.

She laughed again as he wrapped around her leg, letting out an agonized moan as her toes splayed around his nuts. She savored the feeling of his gonads for a moment before increasing the pressure, causing the male to release a keener, higher-pitched wail.

"My baaalls!" he squealed, his head jerking backwards in agony. "No no please anything just noAAGGH!"

She bore down even harder on the man's testicles, flattening them beneath her foot. With obvious relish she flexed her toes, smiling wickedly as he screeched in pain. Drool dripped from the corner of the his mouth as his body spasmed, trying to find a way to dislodge his angry attacker.

Unfortunately, things were about to get much worse. Despite the agony, his member had not gotten any softer -- on the contrary, if anything it was now throbbing even harder than before. His body didn't know what to make of the situation...hell, she might be crushing his gonads, but she was still a naked chick. The sexual overload was too much for the poor male. His cock twitched once, twice, and began firing long ropes of cum onto the woman's calves, even as she continued to flatten his balls.

She recoiled at the unknown substance, her shock becoming rage as the last of the male's thick seed dribbled down onto her toes. "Oh you are going to pay for that," she growled, lifting her foot once more before slamming her heel down on his battered ballsac.

The man squealed frantically, his body spasming in agony as her foot came down again and again. There was nothing to protect his nuts from the woman's terrible onslaught: each blow landed squarely on the twin spheres, sending unimaginable waves of pain through his body.

"Which nut do you think'll pop first?" she taunted as she stomped yet again, crushing his gonads brutally between her heel and the unforgiving concrete. The once spherical orbs were slowly losing their shape, flattening under her repeated blows. Finally she paused for a moment, looked down to size up her target, and stomped one more time, mashing the swollen seedsacks into the ground.

The man's face was completely white as he let out a ghastly shriek, hands pulling frantically at the female's foot -- until he froze, completely still, as a muffled *pop* came from his groin.

She giggled. "Ooh. The left one, apparently."

The man let out a pathetic-sounding mewl and fell back limply, finally falling unconscious. The disappointed woman brought her foot down once more in hope of waking him up, but succeeded only in further pulping the nut she had just popped, with no reaction from the male.

"Fucker," she mumbled under her breath. "Well, while you're out, I suppose I should make sure this doesn't happen again..."

The man twitched slightly as she slammed a powerful kick up between his legs. Without another nut to share the pressure, his remaining testicle took the entire impact, flattening around her toes with a sickly squelch. Unsatisfied, she kicked again, her toes sinking into her rapist's crotch. She could feel his nut stressed to the breaking point -- and then felt it burst, suddenly losing its shape. With a smirk she withdrew her foot from his groin, looking at the now-empty sac between his legs. She poked at the misshapen bulge, the mush in his ballsac squishing between her toes.

The woman took a moment to catch her breath, wiping the perspiration from her forehead. "Asshole," she muttered, pulling out her cell phone to call the police...