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These are (edited) excerpts from my journal recording events of the weekly meeting of the ballbusters group that I belong to (in every sense of that word). Names have been replaced.
Entry 164 When I got to Mrs. Marsh’s house, there was already a decent group gathered. I took off my clothes and they strapped me in to the hanging wrist restraints and attached the leg spreader bar. Susan put the Icy-Hot cream on my sack even though it was hot in there and my testicles were already hanging pretty low. I guess they weren’t taking any chances. At that point the door rang and a petite, but very pregnant, woman was led in. She was obviously pretty shocked when she saw me, but Mrs. Marsh immediately announced “Girls, this is Kelly, a friend of Janice’s. I think you can all see why she is here.” I should pause here to explain what exactly she meant. About a year before this, one of the regular girls was pregnant and expecting fairly soon. She had a history of hard labor and was very anxious. Out of anxiety or displaced hatred of her husband, she went crazy on me that night. She nearly destroyed me as a man, and I spent a few days in the hospital. Anyway, her delivery turned out to be as effortless as could be, and a new tradition was started. Women with friends concerned about upcoming labor would let them know of this “ritual” and they would show up at the weekly meetings. Those new to the scene were usually reluctant, but almost always got enthusiastic before long, and indeed more than a few became regular attendees. Now I honestly don’t believe in such things, but I must say that whether from coincidence or some placebo effect, busting my balls did seem to promise a painless delivery. So, here was Kelly, standing in her little maternity dress and looking a bit taken aback. Janice told her that she got first shot while the others watched and would finish up on “whatever was left”. Kelly, however, was pretty shy and seemed reluctant. Janice stepped up and said “Look, Kel, like this” and aimed a nice uppercut right into my scrotum. The first one always stuns the most, and Janice was a real bitch anyway, so I sagged in the restraints although I had the training to let out no more than an “ooff” audibly. Kelly seem even less likely to participate now, but Janice continued with “Come on, we pay him $60 a week”, “plus medical expenses” Brooke cut in, “and he’s a pervert and loves this stuff anyway. You know his sister Lindsey, she even comes over and take a few shots once in a while”. Brooke now stepped in front of me and held both testicles in her left hand. “These little things cause us women more grief than anything, so here’s your chance to get even.” With that she swatted her right hand down like my balls were some bug she wanted to smash. The pain was intense and I was really starting to get tender. Now Joan stepped in. She was a jock – volleyball, softball, running – and had a buff body to show for it. “You know how tough guys always act. ‘You girls can’t hurt me’” she huffed in imitation of some big athlete. “Well look at this.” She bent over and cocked her finger as though to flick some lint off here clothes. But, my left testicle, hanging low and a bit swollen already, was her target. She flicked it and a sharp pain flared up my left side. She did it again and again and laughed as I jerked around. “Doesn’t take much with the right target” she spat. “Go ahead, you’ll never feel more powerful”. Kelly was pushed in front of me bent down to inspect my genitals. I could feel her breath on my cock as she said “I don’t know, these look pretty beat up. They must be pretty swollen with how big they are, and I see some bruises on the side of his sack thing.” I could see how the girls had affected her, she was already talking like I was some uncomprehending animal. “Well, he does have pretty big eggs to begin with; besides, you sweet young thing, whose balls have you been inspecting besides your husband’s?” Brooke asked. Kelly blushed shyly at that. “Look, this pathetic thing loves it. He gets off on it, and he usually comes just from us beating his bag to a pulp. See how hard his cock is?” My cock was rock hard and was waving, almost grasping, for some female contact. “Watch this” Brooke said as she grabbed an empty glass from a side table. She grabbed my scrotum in one hand and the end of my cock in the other. She aimed my cock down in to the glass and started to apply pressure with her other. “Look at him, he going to blow just from me squeezing these things”. I didn’t want to come. It was too humiliating to be treated like some dumb animal that could be milked. Maybe these other women had seen me shamed so, but I didn’t want this new girl to just think I was that low. But, as these thoughts were going through my mind my cock was starting to swell in that pre-orgasm way, and Brooke got a look of triumph on her face as she squeezed harder. I could feel my cock start to spasm and I just sagged in defeat in the straps as I spurted one shot after another in to the glass. I must have shot 10 times as I could feel my cock head submerged in my own spunk. Brooke held the glass up before my face as she looked into my eyes with contempt. She knew how much she had shamed me. I think Kelly must have sensed how disgraced I was as she actually seemed to look pityingly on me. I thought that she would back out for sure now. However, Brooke had one ace up here sleeve. She held the glass up before Kelly, who looked at it fascinated. “See this stuff. This stuff is what got you like that” she spat glancing at Kelly’s belly. “This stuff is what is going to make you go through labor.” Kelly was held by her words. “And” Brooke added “you know were this stuff comes from, from these” she yelled as she grabbed both balls and pulled my whole body forward in the restraints by them. “These little glands have put you through so much, and now you can pay them back.” This heated speech did the trick. Kelly lunged forward and took her best punch at the pair being held by Brooke. However, innocent thing that she was, she missed completely and succeeded in smashing my cock against my lower abdomen, shooting out some leftover come in the process. She looked down at the ooze on her fist, and this seemed to bring her back to reality. “I’ve got to go” she stammered, as she backed away. I could tell that the women were disappointed but knew better than to press the point. She put on her coat and ran out while they were assuring here that she could come back and try again next Thursday. After she left, Brooke took the glass and thoughtfully said “this stuff is too nasty for the sewer, what should we do with it?” She dipped her finger in the glass and made me suck it off of her finger. I had to finish the whole glass that way. Then Joan said, “I liked that, let’s beat another load out of him and make him eat some more”. It was a long night… Please let me know how you found this and other Ballbuster Journal entries. I have many more in my journal and can select those that folks find most interesting. Mail to jon_of_morgantown@hotmail.com
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