Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Author: Awkward Dreams
Title: Balls Actually Busted
Summary: A man recalls his visit to a dominatrix for an extreme
ballbusting session that resulted in injury.
Keywords: FM, femdom, cbt

   Balls Actually Busted By Awkward Dreams

   (A completely true story)

   I had seen Mistress Reign once before.  We had done some ball busting
that first time, but it had been mostly throat fucking.  I had been on my
knees for a long time while she fucked my mouth with a long, hard strapon
dildo, and my throat hurt pretty bad after that.  So the second time I
called her, I requested a ballbusting-only session.

   Since it was my second time with her and she was a professional, I also
felt it was safe to be restrained while getting busted.  So prior to the
meeting, I bought a spreader bar which I would leave with her as a tribute.


   When I first arrived at her place and got naked, she started by giving
me a bunch of knees to the balls while I was standing.  I love kneeing
because it's so intimate, and I had requested this.  She apparently didn't
like me free standing, however, so she pushed me back against her wall and
tied me there.  While I was tied to the wall she kneed me a bunch more
times, but couldn't get a kick in, so she took me down and told me to kneel
on the floor.

   She then cuffed my hands behind my back and pushed my face into the
carpet.  I would have been on my hands and knees if my hands weren't behind
my back.  As it was, I was on my face and knees, with my ass up in the air.
She attached the spreader bar just below my knees so I couldn't bring my
legs together to protect myself.

   With my ass in the air, my balls were hanging down completely exposed
and vulnerable between my spread legs.  She got behind me, which makes it
so exciting, since I can never see the kicks coming.  And kick she did. 
Hard.  With her bare feet.  Over and over.

   She kicked me maybe twenty times before pausing at all.  But she just
stopped for a second to breathe, or maybe switch legs, I'm not sure.  Then
she nailed me twenty more times, hard.  I couldn't believe the punishment
she was dishing out, and how well was taking it.  The thing about
ballbusting is that as soon as I feel like I couldn't possibly take
anymore, the adrenaline floods my bloodstream, helping me stand it.  She
kicked me many more times, and I took it like a pro.  I could have lowered
my ass to protect myself, but the cuffs and spreader bar were good
reminders, and I kept my discipline together.  Besides, I wanted to please
my new friend, Mistress Reign.

   Finally, she stopped, removed the spreader bar, and told me I could lay
down on the carpet I was sweating and shaking.  She sat in a chair, lit a
cigarette, and put her feet up on my chest.  As she relaxed with her smoke,
I caught my breath and felt wonderfully submissive, with her using me as
furniture.  I opened my mouth, and she obliged me by ashing her cigarette
in my mouth several times.  I then told her I wanted her to burn me with
her cigarette, and suggested she do it on my anus.  I often top from the
bottom like this, but she didn't seem to mind.  She did, however, think the
anus was a stupid place to get burned.  She would be willing to do it on my
thigh instead.  Slowly getting closer, she held it close for a while,
before touching me for a moment with the glowing head.  This was a
delicious pain I hope to explore more in the future.  She burned me a
couple of times, then put out her butt, which was apparently now tainted by
my burned flesh.

   Then she told me to get back in position and reattached the spreader
bar. I couldn't believe she was going to do this more.  I had already
endured 5-10 solid minutes of full strength kicks from behind, not to
mention the knees before that.  And she just started up again, kicking me
full speed from behind, over and over again.

   This second round was agony from the start, and in retrospect, I felt
the exact moment when harmless pain turned to injury.  Something tore
inside me and it felt just wrong.  Every kick after that made the wrongness
much worse, but I was still in submissive mode, so I thought it was just a
new level of pain I had to endure.  Surely, she wouldn't go on much longer,
would she?

   Finally, she did stop, but only to say, "Are you bleeding?"

   She helped me to a kneeling upright position, and I looked down at my
crotch.  There was a significant blood stain on her white carpet.

   "Shit,", I said.

   "My rug!" she said.

   I had brought a thick blanket in case of mess and it was nearby, so I
grabbed it and put it under my crotch to catch the blood.  She undid the
spreader bar and I was able to bring my knees together and clamp the
blanket in front of my crotch to try to stop the bleeding.

   "Did I tear your ball sack?" she asked.

   I removed the blanket for a moment to see what exactly was bleeding, and
a spurt of blood came out of the tip of my penis.  My scrotum appeared
intact.

   "No," I said.  "The blood's coming out my penis."

   Neither of us said anything for a moment, probably because we weren't
sure what this meant.  I curled up so my body held the blanket tight to my
whole crotch area and I laid down on my side.  I started to feel extra
clammy and light headed.  When it began to seem like losing consciousness
was a real possibility, I said to her, "If I pass out, you have to call
911."

   She hesitated.  Here I was, clearly too old for this shit, and I was
going to die by bleeding out the end of my dick because my dominatrix
didn't want to call an ambulance.

   "Look, " I said.  "This is not your fault.  I asked for this.  But you
don't want me dying on your floor, so you have to call 911 if I pass out.
OK?"

   She murmured assent, then we said nothing for a while.  I was still
light headed and clammy, but it wasn't getting any worse, and it seemed
like I would probably stay conscious.  Finally she asked me if I wanted a
glass of water, and I said yes.

   When she came back, I was able to sit up, still with the blanket held to
my crotch, and I had some water.  I looked under the blanket, and blood was
still dripping out my penis.  Better than spurting I guess, but when was it
going to stop?

   She got on her computer and started chatting with a doctor friend,
trying to guess what exactly had broken inside me.  This doctor thought
maybe my urethra had been ruptured.  This is apparently very serious, so
luckily he turned out to be wrong.  The testicles are directly connected to
the urethra, so I'm not sure why he thought the urethra had been ruptured.
Since he knew what we had been doing, any intelligent doctor would have
guessed testicle rupture, the debris of which was coming out the penis.

   Eventually, the bleeding stopped enough that I could get dressed, and I
felt strong enough to leave and drive home.  She felt really bad,
constantly telling me how sorry she was.  I told her not to worry, it was
exactly what I had asked for, and was clearly an experience I would
remember the rest of my life.  I kept saying how sorry I was to have bled
on her rug.

   The next day, my scrotum was black and blue and swollen to the size of a
grapefruit.  I decided that a trip to the ER would probably be a good idea.
As embarrassing as that might be, I didn't want to risk permanent damage to
my important equipment.  I was a grown, divorced man, so I thought I could
pull it off without too much shame.

   In fact, the hospital turned out to be a lot of fun.  Telling the intake
nurse was the hardest part.  After that, the doctor and the nurse who came
in to examine me knew I had been injured by "rough sex", so there was no
surprise.  They tried to remain professional, but couldn't completely erase
the smirks on their faces.  I laughed and we all started to have a fun time
being amazed at what this idiot (me) had done to himself in the name of
sexual pleasure.  They had to ask, what exactly had I done?  I explained
ballbusting to them, and they seemed to barely believe that this was an
actual thing people did, even though the evidence was right in front of
them.  I had an ultrasound, and luckily they didn't find any serious
damage.

   The swelling took about a week to fully go down.  During this time, the
colors spread up my belly and down my legs and turned from blue and purple
to yellow and brown as the blood reabsorbed from the tissues back into my
bloodstream.  When it was fully healed, there was only a small hard lump of
scar tissue on the outside of one testicle to account for all the blood.  I
sent Mistress Reign some pictures and let her know it had turned out okay,
but she didn't reply.  I wonder if she lost her nerve after injuring me?

   I can still feel that little mass of scar tissue anytime I want to
remind myself that this experience really happened.  I never did serious
ballbusting again, for obvious reasons.  However, my healing was complete
enough that I found I still enjoyed light ballbusting.  Unlike my first
wife, my second wife is happy to indulge me in this fetish of mine.  When
she wants to show me sweet attention, this often involves her grinding her
knee into my crotch or giving me a few sharp slams.  I stop her before it
gets really painful, but I figure I'm still enjoying more severe treatment
than most guys would dream of taking.  I eat her out for long periods of
time, and she will give me attention by playing with my balls, roughly,
with her feet while I'm down there.  I guess I will never tire of rough
ball treatment, and fantasizing about violent ballbusting.