I will never, ever forget my first ball busting experience. It happened when I was a senior in high school. I was captain of the football team, and I was talking with some of my guy friends before the big football game against our big rival. It was in the parking lot of school, before we had to go get suited up. Anyway, we were standing there by my car, talking about our sexual escapades with women. I was telling the guys how I got some at least three times a week from my girlfriend, Clair. We started comparing breast sizes, how good they gave head, etc., when we had to go get ready. As we were walking back to the locker room, I turned and noticed that a girl was sitting in a car near mine, listening to what we were saying the entire time. She looked daggers at me and then made a fist with her hand, as if she were squeezing something. I turned and ran back into the locker room.
Anyway, after the game was over, and I had gotten changed, I walked back to the parking lot and was talking with the guys some more. Anyway, they all left, then I went to go get in the car. I put my key in the lock, but it wouldn't turn. The parking lot was empty; everyone had gone home, so I couldn't get help. Suddenly from under my car crawled this girl that I had seen earlier. Without saying a word, she planted her foot squarely in my balls.
I felt like I was going to throw up for a while. I just stood there, clutching my balls, and finally fell over in the parking lot. Suddenly three other girls appeared from out of nowhere. Two of them grabbed my arms, and the other grabbed my right leg and pulled it, making my throbbing balls an even easier target for this mysterious girl.
SLAM! SLAM! SLAM! Again and again she kicked me, with lightning fast kicks each seeming more powerful than the last. The girls holding my arms started dragging me toward the side entrance of school, while the other two just laughed and taunted me. As I neared the door, I saw through clouded vision a figure standing at the door. As I got closer I realized that the woman was Ms. Pritchard, a femi-Nazi chemistry teacher. I had her for Chemistry a year ago, and she gave me detention constantly for the rude remarks I made about women in her class.
Ms. Pritchard turned and opened the door, and the girls dragged me inside. Her classroom was right next to the door, so it didn't take long for them to drag me into there. I noticed that she had put two hand-chains on the wall. I was too weak to resist as the girls hoisted me up and hooked my hands to the chains.
"Not the tough, macho man now, are we Ridge?" Ms. Pritchard said as the girls quickly yanked off my shoes and pulled my jeans off. "We'll see what you think of us women when your rocks are smashed." She then said to the girls "Ladies, let me take the first *crack* at him." She then approached me and swung at my groin with a shattering underhand. I screamed as she connected with my aching jewels, and she laughed wickedly. I didn't know that she had that much strength in those fifty-year-old arms. The other girls took turns kicking, kneeing, and punching me in the balls until I pleaded with them to stop. Instead, Ms. Pritchard took a bandanna off her desk and tied it around my head, like a blindfold. I couldn't see a thing, and that made the kicks seem even more powerful, because I didn't know when the next one was coming. I felt sure that I was sterile by now. I felt an odd, bloody sensation coming up the back of my mouth. I tried to struggle, but there was no use. The repeated blows increased the throbbing of my balls and seemed to increase the girls' enjoyment.
I heard a new person enter the room, but I didn't recognize her voice. One of the girls took off my blindfold, and I suddenly realized that it was Clair. She walked over to me and smirked. "You didn't know that I was sitting in Darla's passenger seat, listening to everything you said about me, did you?" "I'll bet you never think about sex again after tonight!" With that she grabbed my balls and literally began to squeeze the life out of them. Then she tore off my underwear, and all the girls marveled at my black and blue nutsack. "Look at how bruised it is, Betty!" said Darla, the girl that hhad been in the car. "Imagine how it must feel on the inside!"
Ms. Pritchard then got two pieces of thin plastic cord from her desk and she proceeded to tie them around each nut. Soon I had two pieces of string hanging from my ballsack; each tied securely around one of my jewels. They were tied so tightly that there was no risk of them slipping off, and Ms. Pritchard had put about seven knots in each one. The girls took them and began pulling with all their strength.
I felt like I was going to die! Then, the situation became even worse. While one of my balls was stretched almost to its limit, Ms. Pritchard would take a ruler and smack it strongly! The waves of pain shooting up my body was intense. About the third smack caused me to faint.
When I woke up, I was still chained to the wall, with Ms. Pritchard and the girls sitting at a table drinking and laughing. I looked down at my battered nuts and saw that the plastic cords were still there, and were both tied to a 15-pound black stone that I remember Ms. Pritchard using in her class. As I regained consciousness, I became aware of the pain in my jewels again. I started to shake and tremble, the pain was so unbearable. One of the girls saw that I had awakened. “Well we think you've learned your lesson so far, ball-less,” said Betty as she untied the 15-pound weight from the strings. "Wait, Betty, we should give him something as a reminder that the next time he says anything chauvinistic about women, he'll have his balls completely busted." said Darla. Believe me, I did not need a reminder. The girls talked in the corner for a while, and then arrived at a decision. They came over to me and Darla grabbed the right string, while Betty grabbed the left. They pulled downward, stretching my balls almost to the breaking point. "There, ladies." said Ms. Pritchard. She quickly tied the right string around my foot, which made me cry it hurt so much. "Keep quiet. When you start walking, you'll really be in pain then." she said. She did the same with the left, tying both strings over my socks. The other girls released me from the chains. I fell to the ground to relieve the pulling pressure on my nuts. The girls dragged me up, and put my underwear, pants, and shoes back on me. I was in incredible pain as they forced me to walk to the far end of the room and back. I began to cry and scream and pound the walls, pleading for them to release me.
"Here are the rules, boy,” said Ms. Pritchard. "You will keep the strings tied to your feet for one week. At any time during school, the girls or I have the right to inspect you for the strings. If you aren't wearing them, I promise you that your balls will be permanently destroyed. The same thing goes if you tell anyone about this. UNDERSTAND???" I feebly nodded in agreement. She then grabbed my crotch and threw me out of the room.
I struggled to get back to my car, and then drove home. Everyone was asleep by the time I got home, so I went to bed. I untied the strings from my feet, knowing I couldn't bring myself to put them back on the next day. I took about four Advil and went to sleep.
The next day, when I went to school, I met up with some of my friends. We were talking again, and I looked around to make sure any of the ball-breakers weren't listening. We were talking about women again and laughing. I was so busy talking with the guys I didn't see the stern countenance that was suddenly behind me. I turned quickly and gazed upwards, right into the face of Ms. Pritchard.
TO BE CONTINUED.....................