Cock and Ball Torture Stories

Just rub a small amount anywhere on his cock, and in about 20 seconds or so, he'll think you lit it on fire!! If you don't wipe it off within about 45 seconds, he'll start to cry, and I don't care how tough a man he is! My girl friend put this stuff on me when we were in the desert, and we didn't have anything to wipe it off with. I thought I was going pass out, and I finally saved the day by ramming my cock into the desert sand several times. Believe me, it would have been less painful if she had whipped it with a cactus leaf. Anyway, MAKE SURE NOT TO GET ANY OF THIS STUFF ON HIS BALLS BECAUSE I THINK IT MAY RENDER HIM INCAPABLE OF FATHERING CHILDREN. If he can walk through even the smallest mall in town, he should become a professional wrestler.

I'll let you know if I can complete my mission. In the mean time, be thinking of another one, and make this one REALLY HURT!!

Trained (and starting to feel pain)

---------------------------------------- There are several kinds of nails. There are roof nails that have big flat heads on them. There are ordinary nails with smaller flat heads. There are square shaped nails that I have seen Pa nail into cinder blocks and then there are Finnish nails. They are the ones with smaller sized rounded heads. I think that kind would be the best to used for the torture tube.

Buy a plastic pipe at the home depot. It should be about 7 - 8" long and small enough that an erected cock would fit tightly within it. Take maybe 50 finnish nails and cut them about 1/2" in length. Drill holes in the pipe so that the nails would fit tightly in the pipe. The nails should slide in and out only with a fair amount of pushing or pulling.

Now twist a string around your guys small cock and pull it all the way and into the pipe. Tease him until he is erect, untwist the string and pull it off his cock. Now start pushing nails into the tube with your thimble. Start at the top so that if he starts to loose his erection, at least the top nails will keep his cock from shortening.

Be sure to have your guy bring his pliers so that you can pull the nails out after your amuzement has ended. Or maybe better yet not bring his pliers so he has to go home to free himself!

I wonder what the Torture Tube would feel like????

----------------------------- The Flip Side of A Glory Hole

When I got home that evening, I saw mistress had invented something new
and wicked. Whether wickedly pleasurable or just plain wicked was yet
to be seen.

I think she got the idea from the few times we visited adult bookstores,
and she noticed the occasional small round holes at hip level in the
booths. Mistress was not very seasoned back then, and I had to explain to
her about "glory holes". She never commented on them again, but it was
obvious that she had not forgotten about them from what I saw.

She had fastened a full sheet of plywood upright, perpendicular to the
long wall of the playroom, and bracketed it to the wall and floor near one
end, forming what looked like a closet without a door at that end.
Conspicuous in the middle of the plank, at a height just right to suggest
its purpose, was a round hole about 1-1/2" in diameter with a bracket just
underneath. At head height (my head height, as was apparent), was a
larger hole. Head-size. A spy hole, only for a whole head instead of
just an eyeball?!

I knew better than to ask questions before this new implement was used for
my quixotic edification and enlightment. It would be too much to hope for
that I was going to be the "glory holer", and receive the ultimate
pleasure through that hole that its existence would suggest to anyone
looking at it. Since mistress was notably opposed to rationing pleasure
with her mouth (she said it was just too much pleasure for a slave), the
great amount of effort that she had put into constructing this blow hole
whose only purpose was to facilitate that pleasure, seemed incongruous.
Nonetheless, the mere presence of so suggestive an apparatus, and the
implication that maybe she had relented and decided to make some kind of
game out of it, had my cock rock hard in anticipation.

Mistress greeted me in the usual fashion, and no mention was made of the
new addition to the playroom over dinner. I knew better than to ask,
and she knew I dying to, but whenever I got that far away look, she just
winked at me. Maybe it was the wine that got to her, but it seemed to
me that she giggled over my predicament, or possibly in anticipation of
something she knew but I couldn't, that was worth a good laugh. In fact
in every way, Mistress was just like a precocious but nervous schoolgirl
the whole evening. I knew that it had something to do with that
device in the basement, or really with what she was going to DO (to me)
with that device. More and more it got to seem like this was going to
be a lot of fun for her, but in all likelihood, not quite so much fun for
me.

But Mistress knows me well, and knows that her impetuous moods will have
me shortly begging to endure whatever she has dreamed up, in order to
maybe get my quota of pleasure or relief afterward. Mistress moods always
have me hard and dripping, whether she necessarily intends to do anything
about it or not. She's a natural seductress, and and, well, it's up to me
to make whatever I can out of it. Sometimes, she's just being that way,
and sometimes there really is something to it. I never know.

After dinner, I tried to play up to Mistress, thinking maybe we'd just skip
the games and she'd notice that I'd been carrying around a rock hard
prick since I first saw the device in the gameroom. Mistress never
makes allowance for that however, and she never seems to want just plain
cock, but has to torture it first.

Mistress came out of the bedroom in an almost sheer black wraparound
evening dress, draped to her ankles in glittery chifon. Five inch
black and gold pumps completed her simple outfit. I could just make out
her silver-dollar nipples and prominent nubs under the dress, but if she
wasn't wearing panties also, it was too dark to immediately tell, though I
definitely was trying, and she noticed. Mistress always notices. She says
it's the little head looking. Mistress brushed by me, lightly swishing
her dress against my skin, and enveloping me in her freshly applied perfume.
My cock twitched with the slight but deliberate contact, but she brushed me
off, saying firmly,

"Get those clothes off, and meet me in the playroom when you're ready."

'Ready' meant several things, not just complete nakedness. I went to the
bedroom to shower, shave and pluck clean any stray hairs on "slick willie"
and lightly lube it up (but Mistress saves the most severe punishment for
playing with it without her express permission, so I try not to make a
production out of it, in case she comes in on me to see what I'm doing).
Mistress has this thing for baby's-ass-smooth cocks and balls, and all
oiled up like some Chippendale's showpiece. Whatever... in a narcissistic
way, I enjoyed Mistress attentions to my cock, though she of course was
just using it as a plaything for her amusement, and didn't consider
whether plucked cock and balls added to my pleasure (they do!).
Afterward, I donned and locked on my collar, and ankle and wrist cuffs.
Mistress doesn't always use them, but says they're part of my
'uniform' along with my cock ring, which I carefully fitted over my
oiled-slick willie and balls. A quick squirt of ripe musky cologne
completed the dress (Mistress isn't the only one who can play the scent
game.)

In the gameroom, Mistress didn't waste any words.

"Ok, get back here." (pointing to the closet side of the new partition).
"You know what to do," and I noticed a twinkle in her eye as she said
this. "Take off your cock ring first, it won't fit through." Mistress
took a chair on the on the other side while I squeezed and fumbled and
finally got my balls as well as my cock through the hole, though it was
clear that I wouldn't be withdrawing them anytime soon, as they were now
bloated to beyond bursting, and the blood was held in my cock by the
pressure of the hole. Mistress came around behind me and fastened a wide
belt around my waist that was anchored to the board, and explained:

"In case you fall backward, or flinch and try to withdraw your balls through
the hole... that wouldn't be good, so this'll just make sure. Then she went
around to the front, and while I was looking out through the head hole, she
took my cock into her mouth, and gave me a deep slurpy suck, ensuring that
my cock would be at it's maximum arousal for whatever was to come. This
wasn't a glory-hole suck job, or even a job. She gave me *a* suck, one only
and then it was over, with my cock twitching and bobbing in front of her face
as I tried to thrust against the unyielding board. Mistress sure cooked up
some kind of torture, as there was no way with my hands or hip to get any
nearer to those luscious red lips that she still held only a few inches
away, blowing warm air over my moist cock in a weird warm and cool tease.
As she did this, she rolled my balls around in her palm, squeezing and
pulling my scrotum to the maximum extent through the hole.

I was anticipating watching Mistress' body under that wonderfully peekaboo
sheer dress as she administered to my cock and balls. But now all that
was quickly taken away, as Mistress exclaimed, "Now my treat," and quickly
pulled a fur-lined blindfold over my eyes. Suddenly, this didn't seem so
exciting anymore, because I knew then that she had some bad surprise
cooked up. Then I felt some kind of tight clamp close over my scrotum
above the balls, and a click like a lock being closed. Next, she squeezed
some kind of cold metal collar over the head of my cock and down onto the
shaft just below the head, and fastened it back against the board with
something, maybe a little hook. My cock was pulled back and up a little,
and throbbed obscenely, confined by the collar to a little side-to-side
movement. It occurred to me that I was now locked in good, and even
without the strap around my waist, my balls and cock were going nowhere,
no matter what happened, and I couldn't even see!

I heard Mistress scoot her chair closer, and felt the heat of her body on
my cock and balls. After fumbling with something that sounded like a jar
lid being screwed off, I felt a wet and very ticklish crawling sensation
go up the underside of my cock, right on the sensitive ridge, and stop
just below the head, then repeat. Something soft and bristly, like a
model paint brush, wet? It was driving me insane, like the blood trying
to squirt out the end of my cock everytime I clenched, but she just
continued at the same agonizingly slow pace, running up and down the shaft
on either side of the ridge, covering the entire surface with delicate
tickling strokes while I went beserk.

This was unlike anything she had done before, and I sensed the intensity with
which she did it, taking at least an hour to completely cover my cock and
balls with the brush, sometimes going back over the most sensitive spots
from time to time, and leaving my cock and balls kind of wettish in places.
She even covered the underside of my balls, back to the frenum. And of course
spent the most time on the head of my cock, drawing circles and poking the
tip of the brush (and I'm convinced at this point that it is) into my pee hole.
Slow tease torture. Delicate torture. Careful torture. Mistress was so
often impatient and blatent, just smacking my balls, whipping my cock,
or using her hand to stroke me to quickly to the brink of orgasm before
stopping, that it took me a while to appreciate the new technique. If
anything, waiting, waiting, waiting for her to stimulate me to heights of
arousal was just as intense as what she was actually doing. Tickling
with a light brush is impossible for me to orgasm, I know that, but the
slow technique and anticipation heightened by the sensory deprivation of
being blindfolded, brought me to some new threshold of erotic arousal.
And other than that initial suck-kiss, she never touched me at all, except
to pinch my scrotum to lift it while brushing the bottom of it.

After brushing my entire cock and balls and lingering on the head for a
while, the stopped. I think my cock was now as engorged as it had ever been.
I heard her move the chair back to the other side of the room, and then
metallic clicking and clanking sounds. Then about 5 minutes of dead silence.
I think she was observing me while considering her next course of action.

Then 'Click. Boing!' I hear something metal-like bounce off the board just
inches from my cock, and fall to the floor. 'Click. Boing!' Another.

'Click.' "Yeeeeeoooooowwww!" I yelled. That one had hit the shaft of my
collared cock, and felt just like someone sticking a needle in it!

'Click. Boing!' She was shooting things at my cock! Fortunately, she
wasn't a very good shot (yet).

'Click.' "AAaaaiiiiiii!" One on the soft part of my ball sack (but missed
my balls). This was torture, and and I had no idea how many shots she had
left.

After about 10 more shots, mostly misses, she struck my cockhead squarely
just above the frenum.

"YEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOWWWWW!!" I could feel the sting all the way down my cock,
and it didn't stop right away like the other hits, but continued to
throb and nip for a while. She cackled like a witch as she followed up with,

'Click. Boing!' 'Click.' "Aaaaaaaaaaiiiii!" It had struck just below the
head. I fruitlessly tried to yank my cock at least partway back through the
hold, but with the shackle around my balls, I couldn't move more than a
fraction of an inch without squeezing my balls fiercely.

Over the next 20 or so shots, she hit my cock or balls about half the
time, concentrating on my cock, it seemed. Then after a pair of back to
back hits stinging my ball sack, she landed one directly on a ball!

"YEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOCCCCCCHHH!!" I screamed in panic. It felt like a
combination of a needle stick and a whack on the balls. First, an
incredible sting, and a shooting pain right up my cock and down my
legs and up my belly. Just like a knee in the ball(s). I gagged. She
laughd uproarously and she kept on,

'Click. Boing!' 'Click.' "Yaaaaaaaaaaa!" 'Click. Boing!'

After 50 or so shots, she stopped, and I heard those funny metallic rattling
sounds again, which I realized to my horror, was the sound of her reloading!

She took her time with the second 50, hitting my cock or ball sack with
over half of them, but fortunately, only a handful of direct ball hits.
The entire target practice lasted about an hour. By the end of it
my cock was stinging so bad, it was no long erect, but lolled like
a fat sausage in its collar while my balls were bloated with unreleased
cum. I guess she hit my cockhead or balls about 20 times total over the
hour, and I could still feel all the little stings which I assumed were
welted or blistered.

But the biggest surprise was when she removed my blindfold, and I
looked down at my stricken cock and balls. They were fresh beef red! Not
tender red, I mean scarlet bull's eye red! The moist brush she teased me
with, and used so thoroughly over my cock and balls was painting, or
rather dyeing them red. My cock and balls sticking out through that tiny
hole and clamped into place, were the bull's eye for her target practice!
I saw that the instrument of my torture and her amusement was some kind
of BB pistol, which was lying on the endtable.

Mistress, noticing my cock was no longer erect but drizzling precum, did
not seem to be too interested in getting me off after her outrageous fun.
In fact, she locked our leather cock cage on me after releasing me from the
glory hole. Noticing me looking over her pistol, she remarked that
maybe she had been too easy on me... that she had fired the pistol on 'low'
power.

It is several days later, and the red has not washed off hardly at all.
My cock and balls are now hairless, smooth, red and still bloated, since
she has not removed the cock cage, saying we'll see about it next week.
I don't think I like this game, and I dread what she'll dream up next week
to barter for allowing me to get off.

--------------------- Hi Alicia

I too have mostly lurked here and have enjoyed the posts, especially Victoria's. I too am glad to see other women who share this interest.
I find the stories and fantasies of permanent damage a little more interesting than you seem to, but so long as they remain fantasies or stories. The only time I can accept them being real is when they are done to someone who in my mind deserves it. This is rare, but sometimes I think it acceptable.
Anyway, I am sure this is what you are looking for. It is a fairly old news article, and to the best of my knowledge, it is true. I have never heard of this town, but than again that part of the world is thousands of miles from where I live.
Let me know if you think this was a justifiable case.
Take care.

Kelly

Wayworth Texas, 1986

TEENAGE GIRLS SENTENCED TO FIVE YEARS FOR ATTACK!

Two 16-year-old girls have been sentenced to five years in prison after they tortured and mutilated a 14-year-old boy suspected of raping a little girl.
The two girls, Stacey Borman and Emilie Moore, were both cheerleaders and part-time models in this affluent middle class suburb. The town is shocked by the girls actions, but also by the events leading up to them.
The boy, Robert Connor, had been charged for raping and torturing Samantha Borman, the five-year-old sister of Stacey Borman. He had tortured the girl with cigarettes held to her vagina, and had broken several of her fingers. He had raped her repeatedly, both vaginally and anally. The girl needed more than 50 stitches to her vagina and anus, and spent over two weeks in hospital. The boy had also set the family's cat on fire in front of the little girl.
The boy, who had a history of molesting little girls including an infant, was arrested, but charges were dropped due to improper arrest procedures. The community was outraged, but no one more so than Stacey. She and Emilie Moore concocted revenge.
They lured the boy to an abandoned factory, and forcing him to strip, tied him sitting on the floor with his back to a beam and his legs spread wide apart. They forced the boy to masturbate with a piece of sandpaper wrapped around his penis, but when he could not ejaculate, the girls became angrier. They took turns kicking and stomping the boy's testicles, and tortured his penis with a cigarette lighter and fingernail clippers.
In a while, they caused the boy's penis to become erect, and going to a large box they had brought along, Stacey removed a jar of honey. She applied the honey to the boy's penis, and then returning to the box, pulled out a cage. Inside the cage were two large rats which her father(an animal control officer) had caught and which Stacey had brought from their shelter. Stacey commented to the boy that she hadn't fed them in over a day, and that they were really hungry. She pushed the cage between the boy's legs and opened it.
The rats began to eat the boy's penis while the girls watched. After almost 20 minutes, the rats had eaten the boy's penis off, and he had not been allowed to lose consciousness once. Emilie then picked up a brick from the floor, and dropped it repeatedly on the boy's testicles, crushing them. The girls then left and called an ambulance for the boy. The girls were later arrested and charged, and have been sentenced to five years without parole. The judge felt the boy had suffered enough and dropped any charges against him providing he get counseling. Women's groups are outraged at the sentencing, but an appeal has been turned down.

When asked if she regretted her actions, Stacey replied.
"Yes and no. I regret that . . . boy, raped my sister, cause if he hadn't, none of this would have happened! I wouldn't be in jail, and my sister would still be a happy little kid!"(crying)

She was asked why she did it.
"Because of what he did to my baby sister! Is she going to grow up normal now? This boy refused to get help, and has been hurting little girls for years. He even killed an 8 year old girls dog while forcing her to watch! I wanted to make sure he could never rape again, and I think the rats took care of that! He's not dead, maybe he can lead a more normal life now."

She was then asked if she felt sorry for the boy.
"No! I think he deserved it! That wasn't the first time he had hurt little girls that way! He was even caught fooling around with a baby girl one time, and nobody did anything about it! When I was watching the rats eat the boy's wiener, I was glad! I think any boy who rapes little girls should have his wiener cut off! His nuts too! Maybe boys would learn not to rape and molest us girls anymore if those boys that did rape got their dinks cut off! I don't care what the judge says. I think he deserved it, and there are a lot of women who agree with me! Is what I did worse than what he did to my little sister? I think he deserved it!"
It has been six months since the trial and the boy has not yet sought therapy. An order from the court may occur, but is unlikely.

------------------------ All right all you sadistic ball breaking, cock crushing princesses, listen up!!! This is one of my all time favorite tortures, and I think my girl friend enjoys it too! Do this to your boy friend/fiance/husband and he's bound to reach the breaking point.

1.) Instruct him to take off all his clothes.
2.) Stand him on a chair under a sturdy ceiling beam.
3.) strap his hands way up over his head to the beam so he's pretty stretched out.
4.) kick the chair out from under his feet. He will now be just kind of "hanging around".
5.) place a blind fold over your eyes so you can't see.
6.) pick up a wide body, plastic "whiffle bat" (every good CBT princess should have one in her closet of tricks).
7.) Turn around at least 5 times, and start swinging.
8.) The objective is to give yourself 50 swings to hit him in the "strike zone" (yea, I mean the love tool). If you score a steeeeerrrrrriiiiiikkkkkkke, you win. However, if you don't he wins, and you have to put hickeys on all of his welts, and then give him a full blow job. Then let him down before his arms fall off. Hey, if he lets you nail him 50 times with a whiffle bat, hasn't he earned the hickeys and blow job?

Give it a try and let me know how it went.

Trained (and enjoying the ball game)

----------------------------------- Marianne and I dragged ourselves out of the pool onto the grassy bank and sat for a while, catching our breath after our swim and basking in the warmth of the August sunshine.
We'd found the pool earlier that summer, and now came to it whenever we could to enjoy the cool water of the river and the privacy of the location. Opposite our resting place was the steep cliff of a canyon wall, while behind us stretched a gloriously green finger of meadow, about ten yards wide, before it disappeared into the woods which concealed the river from the country road a quarter of a mile away.
We stripped off our swimming costumes and stretched out on our towels, letting the sun dry off our lithe young bodies as we chatted happily.
It was while we were getting dressed that the flasher appeared! Marianne had just pulled on her navy blue cotton briefs over her sturdy, smoothly muscled thighs and was wriggling into her white crop top, when I spotted
him.
"Hey, look!" I said in a hushed voice, hardly believing what I was seeing, "we're being flashed!"
"Where, where?" gasped Marianne as she fitted herself into her top. "Oh my gosh!"
The man was at the edge of the woods. He was completely naked and was leaning backwards in profile to us so that we could see his huge, thick cock thrusting outwards and upwards in a massive erection.
We stared in amazement for a moment, then Marianne shouted, "Let's get him!" and charged madly across the grass, giving me no alternative but to run after her.
The man's surprise was evident from the expression on his face. He gaped at us as we hurtled towards him, then he tried to move backwards into the shelter of the woods. It was then we noticed he hadn't completely
removed his pants. They were still round his ankles. When he tried to move, his feet got caught up. He toppled over and cracked his head on a tree stump.
As the guy lay there half stunned, we stormed into the attack. Marianne dropped on his chest and began smashing her fist into the guy's face, while I stood off a bit and kicked him wherever I could.
In no time at all, the man lay still. Marianne stopped punching him and got up. He lay spread-eagled at our feet, moaning, semi-conscious.
Marianne was elated. "Look at the size of him! He's huge. And we beat him!"
I suddenly realised that what Marianne said was true. Even lying down the guy looked enormous. He must have been a couple of inches over six feet, well muscled, with powerful shoulders and thighs and a well defined stomach. And he was at our mercy!
"Quick," said Marianne, "get his shoe laces and we'll tie his hands together."
I took the laces out of his trainers. They were quite long and it didn't take us long to turn him over, pull his hairy, muscular arms behind his back and secure his wrists. He was groaning and moving his head by the time we'd finished, and he opened his eyes fully as we turned him onto his back again. He looked confused as he saw a couple of girls standing over him, and then he realised he couldn't move his hands and started blustering about what did we think we were doing, and he'd get us, and that sort of stuff!
"Shut up," said Marianne. "We don't like guys flashing their cocks at us, so just be quiet or I'll kick you in the balls!"
The guy could see by the look on Marianne's face that she meant every word, and he shut up!
"Get him up," said Marianne, grasping his hair and pulling. I got hold of him under one shoulder and we got him onto his knees. His once proud cock was now hanging limply between his muscular thighs and flopped around as we made him move. I was fascinated by it as I'd never seen a naked man before.
"Come on, Mr. Flasher Man," gasped Marianne, transferring her grip to his dangling balls, "get on your feet for the nice little girls."
"Get him against the tree there," ordered Marianne. The guy looked ridiculous as we made him shuffle over to the nearest tree, his feet still entangled in his pants, being pulled by the balls by a determined looking, half naked, young girl.
We backed him up against the slender trunk of the tree. I removed the belt from his trousers and put it round his neck, buckling it behind the tree trunk. The guy was pleading with us to let him go, asking what we were going to do to him as I removed his pants from around his ankles.
"We're going to teach you a lesson, Flasher, so shut up or I'll stuff a sock in your mouth," threatened my friend in a commanding voice which brooked no argument.
"We need to spread the sucker's legs," said Marianne. "I know!" She found a stout branch and we lashed one of his ankles to one end using his pants, and lashed the other ankle to the far end of the branch using his shirt. We had ourselves a nice big, helpless, muscular, male victim!
It felt really good seeing this big, fully grown man made helpless by a couple of girls. I was fascinated by the size of the guy's cock as it hung down between his legs. I tentatively took hold of it and joggled it around a bit.
I could feel it throbbing in my hand, then it began to grow as the guy's body jerked and squirmed as I played with him. His ball sac contracted as his cock surged upwards as I massaged it with my fingers. It was really thick, and must have been a good eight inches long, and my rather tiny hand only just fitted round it.
"That's good," said Maianne. "Bring him up....Now let go!" she ordered.
I let go, wondering what she was up to. I was enjoying making the guy's cock grow with my fingers. Marianne positioned herself in front of the guy, her head barely reaching half way up his chest. The man was staring at her fearfully, seeing the aggression in her posture as she stood, legs apart, tiny breasts thrusting over clenched fists.
"First we bring you up, Mr Flasher, then we bring you down," she said, and, picking her spot, smashed her fist into the guy's dangling balls.
The man let out a yell as his body tautened and his head jerked back to bang against the tree trunk. His cock hung limply again as he squirmed in pain. His head dropped onto his chest as he sobbed with the humiliation of being beaten up by a couple of girls.
"Bring him up," said Marianne, motioning me forward, where I got to work with my fingers again.
I held his cock with one hand and reached for the man's balls with the other. He was groaning with pain and begged me not to hit him. Instead,
I worked away with my little girl hands on his cock and balls, watching his face as I brought back his erection. His moans of pain changed to little `ahhs' of pleasure as I stroked him under his ball sac. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, trying to thrust his cock towards me.
Not waiting for Marianne, I swung my own fist up between the guy's legs, and punched him in the balls. It was a great feeling, as my knuckles squished into his sac, making his mighty male body jerk like it had received an electric shock, as he yelled in agony.
I loved it. My whole body thrilled at the control I had over the man. I could make him purr or scream, depending on what I did to his balls. I could feel my insides melting as I watched the guy's body jerk around as he kept grunting with pain from the effect of my blow, the punch of a girl into a man's balls!
"Here, it's my turn," said Marianne, pushing me aside. She began to lace into the guy's stomach, her fists pumping in and out like a pair of pistons.
At first, they seemed to just bounce off the ridges of male muscle, but the girl was persistent. Soon her fists were sinking into the man's body, making him groan and gasp as she began to inflict pain with her punches.
To our amazement, the guy's cock began to expand again until it soared up out of his mound of pubic hair, rigid as a telegraph pole.
"Hey," panted Marianne. "Look at his hard on! He must like being hit by a girl!"
She began to slap his cock back and forward with her hand. She was getting up quite a speed when, suddenly, the man's whole body stiffened.
His head went back. His mouth dropped open and his cock erupted!
Marianne jumped back in alarm as the male cock jerked and leapt of its own accord, spurting cum in all directions, some of it landing on her leg.
"You pig!" she screeched, and kicked out at the guy, catching him under his quivering cock and sending it slapping into his stomach.
His eyes widened in fear as the girl closed with him. "No,
please....aggh....aggh....aghh!" he howled as she smashed her fist into his balls again and again in angry retribution.
He hung limply as Marianne stepped back. Tears were streaming down his cheeks as he hung open mouthed, little farmyard noises emanating from his throat.
Marianne was panting from her exertions, but her eyes bright with
excitement. I felt the same. I wanted more. I got to work on his balls again.
At first the guy's body jerked around as he begged me not to touch him any more, but I kept my fingers working just behind his sac. It didn't take very long for him to change his tune!
Slowly his cock came up again as my fingers worked their feminine magic on the male body. "Poor man," I crooned. "Did the little girl hurt your balls, then? I'll make it all better for you, then I want to see your nice big cock stand up again for me. Can you do that? Just for me. You did want to show us your nice big cock, didn't you. Well I'm going to make it grow again. There's a good boy."
The guy was rampant! He was still moaning and crying tears, but his cock was thrusting out again into my teasing fingers. This was wonderful. I felt so good. I held the cock loosely in my hand, feeling the thing quivering in my fingers. With my other hand I found a pulse under the guy's ball sac, where I'd been stroking him. It was thumping away. It was like I had a whole male engine in my hands, throbbing and thumping, and I had control over it.
"Hey," said Marianne, "he's enjoying you doing that. We're supposed to be punishing him for flashing us, not helping him get off!"
"Oh, he'll be punished all right, won't you big Flasher?" I reached up and tweaked his nose. He tried to jerk his head to one side, but I got him anyway and waggled his head from side to side. This was fun. "I'm just going to apply a little pressure now!"
My fingers closed tightly round his balls as I began to squeeze. I looked up, smiling into the man's tear stained face, watching the fear grow as I hurt him. At first the balls slid off each other and slithered around in their sac. Then, as I tightened my grip, I could feel the balls squashing into each other until I had them trapped in my grasp.
The man was moaning again. I twisted. He yelled. I pulled downwards. His head dropped as sobs wracked his massive frame. All this time his cock stayed up in a huge erection. Although the guy was being tortured, he was still sexually aroused. `Or maybe,' I thought, `it's because he's being tortured by a girl that he's hard as a hammer!'
"You like being punished by a girl, don't you?" I murmured. The guy groaned. "You like having a girl squash your balls and punch your stomach and kick your cock, don't you?" My voice got louder as I jerked his balls. "Answer me!" I demanded.
"Yes," he admitted, his whole frame collapsing into defeat as the word left his lips. "I like it!"
"Wow!" exclaimed Marianne. "We've got ourselves a masochist! Well, Mr. Masochist," she said menacingly, reaching up and holding him by the throat, "you're in luck, because we like hurting you!"
She jerked his head back so that it cracked against the tree trunk. She held him there. "If you like pain, you're going to love this! Knee him in the balls, Di!" She moved back.
"Hang on," I said. I'd got as far as putting on my skirt, and didn't want to mess it up. I stepped out of it and stood in front of the guy in my navy blue cotton briefs and white polo shirt. I've got nice legs, smooth and tanned, and strong from lots of swimming. He was taking in the sight of me, standing there with my legs apart, smiling up at him with a predatory look on my face, like a cat watching a mouse. He was gasping for breath, eyes full of a mixture of apprehension and lust.
I took hold of the man's bulging biceps to steady myself, took aim and brought my knee up into his balls with crushing force. The guy cried out once, then slumped in his bonds, making keening noises as the pain bit into his brain.
Marianne's face was flushed with excitement. "Come on," she said, "let's untie him. He's not much fun just hanging there. You get his legs and I'll undo his hands."
I started to protest. I mean, the guy was huge compared to us girls. But Marianne was already untying his hands. I released his ankles from the branch to which we'd tied them. This was dangerous!
But the guy wasn't going to do anything brave! As soon as he was untied, he sank to his knees, head bent, clutching his balls, thanking us pathetically for letting him go.
Marianne grasped him by the hair and forced his head back. "We haven't let you go, Flash," she said. "We've just untied you so we can have more fun with you. Like this!" And she held him by the hair and began punching the guy in the face.
It was weird. The girl made him look at her balled up fist, then rammed it into him. Then she repeated the process until her fist got sore. And this big, powerful man just knelt there and let the girl beat him up.
All he did was hold his cock and...
"Hey!" he's jerking off, "I shouted," as I realised what was happening.
"What!" said Marianne indignantly, furiously shaking the guy by the hair. "Get on your back!" she ordered. She brought her knee up into the man's jaw with a sharp crack, toppling him over.
"Spread your arms and legs!" she ordered the groaning male, kicking him in the ribs to emphasise her command.
She stood astride his spread-eagled body, hands on hips, chest heaving, a gleam of excitement in her eyes as she looked down at her naked male victim. "You are a very naughty boy," she rebuked. "For being such a naughty little boy, I am going to kick you in your little boy nuts as punishment for jerking off without permission. Keep still!" she barked, as the man began to plead and tried to cover his balls with his hands.
Mercilessly, the girl stepped into the v of his spread thighs. His whole body was tense with expectation and fear. The veins stood out on the side of the guy's neck and his fingers dug into the ground as he waited for the girl to carry our her threat.
Cruelly, Marianne smiled down at him, relishing the man's fear,
torturing him by postponing the inevitable. I found myself unconsciously rubbing my groin, fully aroused by the sight of the slender girl standing over the magnificent body of a spectacularly muscled, naked, male, totally in control of him, making him tremble with fear as she toyed with his emotions.
Then she struck. Her foot lashed into the man's balls.
I'm sure his whole massive body left the ground as he cried out in agony, then slumped into unconsciousness, his collapsing legs bringing Marianne down in an indignant heap on top of him. Furiously she jumped up and started kicking the guy's body. Then she realised he couldn't feel anything.
"Hell," she looked worried. "Is he dead?" she said.
"No way," I reassure her. "He's breathing OK. He's just right out of it."
Marianne was now totally deflated. "Come on," she said. "Let's get out of here."
I had a better idea.
We tied the flasher's hands again before he came round, and took him with us as we went through the wood. Instead of going straight to our bikes, we made a diversion of about half a mile and once more buckled the guy with his belt to a slender tree trunk right on the edge of the wood. Then I stuck my fingers in my mouth and did my really loud whistling trick.
A couple of Girl Scouts, who were pottering around their camp in the field below the wood, looked up. Marianne was working the guy's cock and balls, bringing him up to another mighty hard on. The girls began shouting something and pointing up at us.
A young woman came running from a large tent, followed by another woman, and by a dozen girls. They stared up at us, then began to
run across the field towards us.
We left the guy dangling there, his cock thrusting skywards like one of the girls' tent poles, and ran off, laughing with excitement at the devilish audacity of our actions, and disappeared into the woods.