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 slamming up into my stomach like a fist, and the girls were pulling down so hard on our trapped balls 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 forced 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 didn’t talked to my friend about it, because somehow I knew he wouldn’t understand why his powerful sister excited me.

That night after his parents had gotten home from their weekend trip, there was hell to pay when he told what had happened to us. They called to talk to me but I told them it wasn’t really anything to worry about and I wasn’t badly hurt.

He wasn't at school on Monday. It wasn’t until after lunch and the third time I saw his sister in the hall I finally got up the nerve to approach her and give her a note. I wrote I was sorry about being rude the day before and that she and her friends got into trouble. The note explained I thought it was wrong my friend had told their parents because we deserved what we got, and I’d asked if I could please meet to talk to her in private after school.

As I was going to my last class of the day she came up and told me to meet her at her car after school.

When I found her car, the other three girls who were at the pool were there waiting too. So much for meeting in private I thought. We drove out to some woods along the river without much of anything I can remember being said to me. The girls talked about a lot of things that had nothing to do with me and I was ignored until we stopped.

They explained that my friend was a weak and worthless baby who didn’t deserve to serve them, but if I could pass their initiation I could have the privilege of serving them as their pet slave. They said I would probably enjoy a lot of it and maybe really hate some of it but that it was a great honor they were giving me, a lowly freshman boy to serve them, but first I had to pass their test. “Yes, please, let me try.” I whispered looking down as I spoke. “Once it starts we don’t stop till we are done. Then we decide if you pass. This is your last chance to back out.”

If I had known how much I was going to hurt I might have backed out, but the power of those girls was overwhelming me. I had heard the term sex slave in reference to my service. Visions of what that might mean flashed through my mind as I shook my head and told them in little more than a whisper I wanted to do it.

“Strip – everything off – now!” I complied as quickly as I could in the confines of the car. I exited the car naked and was told to stand with my feet well apart and my hands behind my head. I thought I was going to get kicked or kneed again and I closed my eyes in preparation, “No, we want you to see.”

I watched as one of the girls took a long ace bandage and folded it lengthwise for some distance up the bandage. She then began to very tightly wrap the doubled bandage around the neck of my hairless scrotum. As she wound the bandage several times the constriction on the cords that connected my balls to the rest of me was increasingly painful. My balls were being forced farther and farther into the bottom of their sack, stretching the skin, and turning it purple. The last half of the ace bandage she wrapped unfolded around and around my trapped balls. Each additional layer of bandage, tightly stretched, greatly increased the pressure on my poor balls. At last she ran out of bandage and clipped it in place. The weight and pressure on my balls was amazing. The pain increased by the second.

“Your balls aren’t getting much, if any, blood with that on now, and without blood they will soon die.”

Looking back now I sort of doubt the constriction was that complete, but I absolutely was terrified she was telling the truth. Nausea was quickly filling my stomach and making it hard for me to stand. I wanted to reach down and tear the bandage off. but just as the urge seemed to overwhelm me, my friend’s sister used a roll of duct tape to fasten my wrists together behind me.

“Now this is your test. We are going to drive along this dirt road to where it goes back up on the main road up there. You get to run after us just like you are now. When we get to the main road, we wait exactly two minutes for you and catch us. It’s only about a third of a mile, so you shouldn’t have too much trouble. If you don’t make it before we leave, it’s only about 5 miles back to town. Your balls will definitely be dead long before you get back though so you better run fast.”

The pain of constriction and the crushing pressure on my bandaged balls kept building in my gut as I listened and watched the girls hop in the car and start it. It’s pretty easy for a 14 year old boy in good shape to run that far in two minutes, but I was definitely NOT in good shape at that moment.

In more panic than anything other than the awful gut wrenching pain, I took off running. The first thing I learned was that with the ace bandage pulling my balls so far down from their normal position, every stride I took caused my encased balls to thump into first my left then my right leg. Each hit transferred through the ace bandage somehow multiplying the impact. I was in agony, and it was only the certain consequence failure that kept me running.

Every stride I took felt like I was being kicked in the balls. I knew that if I tripped, I wouldn’t be able to catch myself with my hands secured behind me. At some level I also knew that for the last half of my run I would be in clear view of the highway as well, but any concern of modesty was far below the immediate concerns I faced, so I just ran faster. The pain kept building to a point I never dreamed possible to endure. I don’t know if I was blacking out, or if I had foolishly closed my eyes for a few seconds, but my aching body crashed into the trunk of the stopped car. Somehow I had made it. Within another minute I was in the back seat and I experienced new pain as the bandage was unwound and the blood flow was restored. I was afraid it was too late when I first saw my scrotum which had taken on a dark blue black color. Then the blood returned and with it more pain, but I was in heaven.

“He’s adorable.” on of the girls remarked. She kept flicking the foreskin of my flaccid penis with her middle finger as I lay naked struggling for breath in the back seat between two of them. The day before I was hard from my ordeal, but today I was soft and barely able to keep from throwing up. Even the assault on the most sensitive skin of my penis didn’t cause it to stir.

Still I had passed my initiation, and was welcomed into the world of those exciting girls as their exclusive sex slave. It would take more than a day for the ache in my balls to go away. In fact as I walked into my house almost doubled over in pain later that afternoon I had to use the same excuse I had used the evening before. “got hit playing football!” I lamely explained again. “You need to wear a cup.” my Mom offered, but I knew I wasn’t going to be allowed a cup for any of the games those girls might have in mind for me. I did have more experiences with them. I know a lot of people would say that I was sexually assaulted and abused; that they were older and took advantage of me because I was innocent and relatively safe compared to older boys, but it was abuse that I truly craved and needed. Maybe some of that would be of some interest to someone here.