Busting Brad's Balls
Copyright © 2015, 2016 Malicia Paine
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Table of Contents
Book Description
Busting Brad's Balls
About the Author
Bonus Material
Other Books by Malicia
Paine
Connect with Malicia
Paine
Book Description
I'm a pole dancer. He's a wrestler. He
thinks he can beat me in a fight because he's got more skills, he's twice my weight,
and is mostly hulking muscle. He's wrong. Why? I'm so glad you asked...
You see, I am a ball-busting bitch. There, I
admitted it. Have I got your attention? This is the story about how I tricked
Brad Houser, wrestling star at my university, into getting me off, again and
again, receiving nothing in return except pain in his poor, defenseless balls.
He thought he could beat be in a no-rules wrestling match. He should have
thought twice. Then again, I'm glad he didn't!
Don't get me wrong; I'm quite fond of Brad.
I may even grow to love him. But I think I'm most fond of him when he's
squirming underneath me, and under my complete control. And maybe, at the end
of the night, if he's really good, I'll make it up to him...
Disclaimer:
This is an erotic short story. It contains adult themes and is intended for a
mature audience. The story contains BDSM themes, including bondage, femdom, and
ball-busting. All characters in this story are over 18 years of age, and all
sexual activity depicted herein is safe, enthusiastic and consensual.
Book Length: 11,000
Words
Keywords: BDSM
Couples Erotica, Bondage Romance, Ballbusting, F/m: Female Domme / Male Sub, Coed
Wrestling, Handcuffs, Teasing, Ball-Torture, Sexual Denial, Oral Sex, Penis Gag
Sex, HFN Ending
Busting Brad's Balls
I am a ball-busting bitch. What I mean by
that is, I get off on making men suffer. Specifically-and I want to make this
clear in no uncertain terms-I do this by exploiting their most easily accessed,
eminently vulnerable, and extremely delicate weakness. I'm talking about their balls,
boys and girls. Their testicles. Their dangling doolies. Their nausea-inducing nut-sacks.
Have I got your attention? I think I heard a few girls in the audience giggle,
and a few of the boys cringe in fear. You should be afraid, boys. You
should be very afraid.
How long have I been like this? Well, I can't
tell you exactly when this fascination began. Like all fetishes, it started
with something innocent. Well, relatively innocent. My childhood memories at
this point are vague, but I remember spending a lot of time in the principal's
office after some boy who'd been teasing me had then been found on the ground
crying his eyes out, and moaning and clutching their groin. Claiming, once he
could eventually speak intelligibly again, that I'd kicked him in his delicates.
I don't remember what this boy had done to me exactly. It was probably a slight
of some kind, and likely one that was largely imaginary. What can I say? A lot
of kids misbehave, and throw tantrums. At a very early age, I'd somehow
intuited that if you kick a boy there, the fight's over, and he's not getting
back up for awhile.
Flash forward to a few years later. In high
school, it's more or less the same story, but the memories are more distinct.
And by high school, I'd developed a reputation, and I think that reputation did
me no favors. My body had developed, and the boys had started to notice me, and-I
don't mind telling you-I kind of enjoyed the glances I got. I'd make a special
point of wearing the most revealing, torn clothes I could. I was a Goth girl,
so this would come complete with a choker, and a lacy bra, and perhaps a
see-through top that exposed my midriff, and then maybe a plaid mini-skirt to
drive the boys wild. You might think I got a lot of action in high school
because of this, but you'd be wrong. A side effect of my reputation was that all
the boys were too afraid of me to ask me out. Though some of them wouldn't
admit to being afraid of me, and would try to provoke me, saying a tiny girl
like me was no match for them anymore. It was also around this time that the
boys started to get really big, so I started taking women's self-defense
classes to make sure I learned everything I could about how to protect myself
against a man twice my size. The result was a lot of macho guys hollering at
me, taunting me, and then winding up on the floor, writhing, vomiting, passing
out, or some combination of all three, after just one well-timed and
well-practiced kick.
Oh-did I mention I was also a cheerleader?
And believe me when I say, we cheerleaders learn to kick. And we can kick hard!
****
Cut to university. Present Day-or at least,
just last week.
I'm going to admit something else now too. At
19, I was still a virgin. It wasn't for lack of offers-believe me, there were many-though
as time went on, those offers did become few and far between. My reputation
preceded me, and generally, the college boys wanted very little to do with me.
And the college girls, well...here's the thing about women. Women hate
women. Especially when they think you're prettier than they are. The problem,
ladies-and yes, I'm talking to you now, for the moment-is that we can be
horribly dishonest with ourselves. Almost as dishonest and deluded as men can
be. Almost. Women will hate other women but not know why, or at least pretend
not to know why. But I'm only all-too-aware of why. When I'm on the street and
a man walks by with a woman under his arm, he'll still look at me, and he'll
think she doesn't notice. But boys, just to be clear-yes, I'm talking to you
now-she does notice, though not for the reason you think. She's simply also
noticed the pretty girl, and she knows, whether you'll admit to it or not, that
you're looking at her, and that you're thinking about how much better it would
be to be with a hot girl like her. A hot girl like me. And your
girlfriend will blame me for that. Not you. Even though she's never even
met me. I can't count the number of times I've passed by an average-looking guy
on the street with a girl under his arm, and had her shoot me the dirtiest
look, and close her arms protectively around her man. And I laugh to myself.
Bitch, I don't want your average-looking
man! Get over yourself!
Although that may not exactly be true. Remember
what I said about still being a virgin at nineteen? Well, it was starting to
get to me. I was beginning to think I'd missed my window, and that now, at
nineteen, no guy wanted to be the one to pop my cherry. I'm savvy. I use the
internet. I know what the boys warn one another about. They seem to think that
just because we lose our virginity to some otherwise average boy, we'll feel
like we're his. Like were devoted now or something, and that we'll cling to him
for dear life. This is a ridiculous myth, and it makes me sick.
Actually, you know what it makes me feel
like doing? It makes me feel like kicking these men right in the goddamned balls!
This actually happens a lot, and I think it's getting to be a problem. Because
you know what, boys and girls? I get horny sometimes too. I get lonely too. And
often enough, I'll be out and about, wearing a sexy dress at a club, and a guy
will hit on me...and really...I like the attention. It's a turn on! And then
maybe we'll dance, and then we'll sneak off someplace and get frisky. And then
he'll start trying to overpower me. After all, I'm not a big girl. I'm still
quite petite and only 5'1". So he'll think I'm easy to control or whatever,
and then my women's self-defense reflexes kick in, so to speak. Then up comes the
knee, and down goes the boy. Down for the count.
And then I pretty much have to leave before
he gets back up-aw who are we kidding? I've never seen a men get back up right
after I've kicked him there. Sorry, guys, but for all your bragging and
machismo, you're just really quite weak there. You're big, I'll give you that.
You're way stronger-I'll grant you that too. But we can still take you. And we
will always be able to. Sorry, boys. That's just how it is. Anyway, usually
when that reflex kicks in, I need to get out of there before I get arrested.
****
So, with that off my chest, here's a
little about me. Like I said, I'm 5'1". Yes, I'm short. I'm also a mere
110 lbs, give or take. I've got curves though, and a rather generous bust, and
hence all the attention I get. I can't exactly say I'm an effortless beauty. In
fact, I think that's another myth. I work hard to stay fit. These days it's
pole dancing, which is hard work, but it's also fun, and makes for great
supplemental income if you're willing to dance in front of the boys. And I
certainly am, for the right price.
Then there's Brad Houser, who's got me a
little hot and bothered these days because, my god, he's fucking hot! At
6'1", he's pretty much a full head taller than me, and he's maybe 220 lbs,
maybe more. Like I said, a lot of guys out there really do outweigh me by a
factor of 2. He's also a wrestling star at the university, and I admit, I've
made a point of going to see some of his matches, and there is something that's
a little exciting to me about watching a pair of grown, well-built boys in
spandex suit wrestle on another for dominance. Sometimes when I go and see his
matches, I wonder what it would be like to wrestle with him. And there's a part
of me that's excited by the idea!
I first noticed Brad, by noticing him
noticing me. That's often the way of things. The way I look, I seem to
attract a lot of male attention. Usually I find it pretty tedious, but in Brad's
case, it's become more of a fun little game. I'll play hard to get, and for his
part, he'll play the patent hunter waiting to trap me. Waiting for that right
time to make his move. Actually, in this case, I was uniquely frustrated by just
how patient he seemed to be. It was a paradox of sorts, because I really wanted
him to try to take me at some point, but I also knew that when he did, he'd
likely wind up on the floor clutching his aching balls, and I'd be out of a
proper suitor again. And this guy is...special.
I like Brad. Make no mistake about
that. I'm not some man-hating bitch that wants to kick men in the balls out of
spite. Well, not entirely, anyway. Like I said before, I get off on it, but I'm
realizing more and more that this tendency of mine has made me alone. The boys,
they're mostly afraid of me. And the girls, well, they just don't understand it.
I think it's a power trip for me. Most women seem to be content to let the boys
take control. But why let them take control when you can? I think God, or
Mother Nature, or whoever the hell put testicles on the outside of males wanted
females to dominate by targeting them. That just seems obvious to me.
****
It was perhaps my third or fourth date with
Brad-depending on what you consider a proper date, since we've had a lot of 'hang-out'
sessions too-when it finally happened. Up until this point, our relationship
hadn't exactly been sexual, though I think both of us were trying to push it in
that direction. At least I was. He'd invited me to watch some of his wrestling
matches, which got me a little hot and bothered, so I wanted to even the score.
I'd invited him to come and watch me pole dance, and for that particular time,
I'd worn a particularly skimpy bikini and pumps, and I made eye contact with
him, and sultrily shifted my shoulders and hips towards him for the entire
time. And that's what finally did it, I like to think.
We were having a drink afterwards, and just
talking about things. He'd been talking about his wrestling matches, and I'd
suggested I could probably take him.
"I could probably take you," I
said.
He laughed at that, and my inner ball-busting
bitch stirred.
"There's no way you could take me,"
said Brad.
"Of course there is. You saw what I
could do onstage tonight. That takes a lot of strength you know, to be able to
hold myself upside down, hanging off the pole. You think that's easy?"
"I'm not trying to diminish your
talent," he said. "It's just a simple matter of weight ratios. I'm a
lot bigger than you, and far stronger, and anyway, I wouldn't want to
hurt you. I mean-no offense-I know you work hard. It shows. And it's really
sexy."
"Aw..." I said, blushing a little.
"You really think so?"
"Yeah, of course! It's really...uh...kind
of a turn on."
"Oh? Would you like a private dance?"
"What, you mean here?"
"No, of course not here,"
I said. "I don't expect you to pay me for a private dance. I want
to give you one. I have my own pole at home in my living room. Do you
want to come over? I could give you a private dance. We'd be alone together all
night..." I said this last bit while biting my lip. What was it going to
take to get Brad to take the hint? I was starting to get frustrated, and my
inner bitch wanted to bust his balls for it.
"I'd like that," he said.
"You would?"
"Of course," he said. "But are you
sure you can trust me to behave?"
"Oh, you'll behave. Like I said, I can
take you."
He laughed again.
"I don't think so."
"We'll see about that then," I
said.
****
We finished our drinks and then he drove
back me to my place while I directed him. He parked outside my apartment, which
is a roomy basement apartment, so I can make it quite private, and it has the
added bonus of being a lot bigger on the inside than it looks on the outside.
My pole is at the center of the room, and
there's a couch seated in front of it. I'd often thought it would be fun to
dance privately in front of someone, though up until this point, this had never
actually happened. This would be the first time. Actually, if I got lucky
tonight, it would be a number of first times for me.
"Nice place," he said.
"Thank you! Why don't you sit down?
Can I get you another drink?"
"What have you got?"
"Beer. Wine. Milk. Juice. Water."
"I'll have a beer thanks."
I went to the fridge and got him one, and
walked to him. Then I twisted off the top, with a satisfying sound of the
breaking of pressure, and then I handed it to him. He took it and took the
first sip, and then nearly spit it out when he saw what I did next.
I slipped off my dress and let it drop to
the floor, leaving me in nothing but my pumps and my skimpy dancing bikini.
He seemed to almost instinctively reach for
me, his eyes transfixed on my tits.
I gently smacked his hand, and he pulled it
away.
"You agreed to watch me dance,
remember?"
"Yes," he laughed. "Of
course. Sorry, I didn't mean to-"
"It's okay," I said with a smile.
"I wouldn't have invited you in if I didn't know what I was getting myself
into."
Then I danced for him while he drank his
beer. Gradually, as I danced, I noticed him getting notably more excited and
shifting around uncomfortably. Something was happening in the front of his
pants, I could tell. Something was happening for me too, if I'm to be
completely honest, and I could feel the first twinges of desire moisten down
there. There's something about a hot guy watching me dance and wanting me that
makes me feel complete as a woman. And I wanted him too. But I refused to make
the first move. I danced, and showed him my sexiest, and most impressive moves,
which included suspending myself horizontally with my arms, and suspending
myself upside down with my legs. I broke a sweat while doing this too, either
from trying harder than normal because I wanted to impress him, or because I
was otherwise getting hot and bothered.
****
The music ended, and I stopped dancing.
"So what do you think?" I asked.
"That was amazing, Jessica," he
said.
"It takes a lot of strength to do
that, you know."
"I'm sure it does."
"Do you think you could pull off any
of those moves?"
"Probably not," he confessed.
"So you still think you'd have the
edge on me in a wrestling match?"
"Are you still on this? Jess, I've
been wrestling for years! Since my junior year of high school. How much
wrestling experience do you have?"
"Very little," I admitted.
"What on earth possesses you to think
you'd stand any chance against me? I'm twice your size. I'm far stronger
than you. Maybe you can hold your own hundred pound frame up on that pole, but
can you oppose a two-hundred-twenty pound frame bearing down on you."
Admittedly, the thought of his two-hundred-twenty
pound frame bearing down on me was getting me a little hot right now.
"Yes. I do," I said defiantly.
"Well, you're out of your mind,"
he said.
"Care to make it a wager?" I
asked.
He narrowed his eyes at me suspiciously,
and then took a drink from his beer.
"Are you serious?"
"I'm deadly serious," I said,
extending my arms and taunting him, swaying my bikini-clad hips back and forth.
"You think you can take me no problem? I say prove it."
"Oh, I'd like to take you,"
he said. "Just not in the way I think you mean."
"Oh really? And what way is that?"
I asked.
He looked embarrassed and adjusted his
crotch again. Obviously there was a raging erection down there.
"I kind of want to have sex with you,"
he said sheepishly.
"Only kind of?"
"Okay...really badly," he admitted.
I smiled triumphantly. Now I had him right
where I wanted him.
"Well," I started. "If you
can manage to beat me in a wrestling match, then you can...have me!"
"Are you serious?" he said.
"You keep asking me that. What makes
you think I'm not?"
"I just don't want to hurt you, that's
all. I like you."
"You don't have to hurt me,"
I said. "You just have to pin me down for ten seconds. And look at me.
Would you really want to pass up an opportunity to wrestle with this? And if
you win, Brad. Then you can do whatever you want with me. You could tie me up...You
could tease me...You could fuck me...all night. Until the sun comes up."
"Really?" he said.
"Really. Whatever you want. I even
have a pair of handcuffs you could use to restrain me if you like. Not that a
big guy like you would need them of course. But you could. I think I'd even
like that. And you could do anything you want."
"I don't really see how I could turn
an offer like that down," he said, adjusting his crotch again. Look
greedily at my goodies.
"But if I win, I get to
handcuff you."
"Fine," he said. "But you
won't win."
"Don't be so sure," I said.
"Really? How do you expect to win?"
"I just need to keep you on the floor
for ten seconds, right?"
"Right. But I don't see any way you could
achieve that."
"We'll see. Ready?"
He shrugged, put down his beer, and then
got to his feet. Then got into his wrestling stance.
"Ready," he said.
****
Brad came straight at me, which I was more
or less expecting, and so I timed my kick perfectly and got him square in
the nuts!
With his momentum, he continued forward,
but it was pretty easy for me to pirouette out of the way and sent him slumping
to the ground.
I had kicked him as hard as I could. I
probably shouldn't have, but what can I say? I really wanted to win! Winning
meant I got to handcuff him. And toy with him...assuming that was okay. Him in
handcuffs meant a lot of fun for me, and a lot of pain for him!
I looked down at him and got ready to hold
him and count, but then I realized he wasn't even conscious anymore. I'd
actually caused him to pass out with a single kick! That fact made me incredibly
wet! He was so powerful, and to take him down with one kick like that, well,
that made me feel incredibly powerful. And perhaps a little guilty. I would
have to make it up to him somehow. Well...maybe. We'll see. For now, I'd won the
wager, so I went to my room and brought out my box of toys.
Here's what was in my box of toys, among
other things. I have a number of vibrators, for my own personal use-and believe
me-they get a lot of use, because I get horny a lot. I guess a life of
celibacy does that to a girl my age. But I have a lot of other toys, things I'd
bought in the hopes of finding the right partner. The handcuffs, of course, you
know about. But I also have other things there. On a whim, I bought a penis
gag. Please don't judge me or laugh at me, but one of my ultimate fantasies is
getting a guy to make me come over and over again with this strapped to his
face, possibly while I play cruel games with his cock and balls.
Of course I would still need Brad's consent
for this. He'd merely agreed to being handcuffed for the night. Everything else
would have to wait until he awoke.
I took out the handcuffs, and then went to
lock up Brad. I stopped and decided I wanted him topless for this, so I pulled
off his shirt, and then I took the handcuffs and locked Brad's hands behind his
back.
Then I got a got look at him, and the sight
of him nearly took my breath away! I'd seen him in his spandex outfits before,
and that didn't leave much to the imagination, but now that I got a good look
at him topless, I was positively elated. Brad was gorgeous! Every muscle
seemed to be perfectly chiseled into his powerful frame. Perfects pecs. Perfect
abs. And he was all mine! I just want to rub myself up against him and lick and
kiss him. But first, I needed to wake the poor boy up. Hopefully he wouldn't be
too cross with me.
Then I shook him awake.
"Hey," I said, when he finally
opened his eyes.
"What happened?" he asked, a
little disoriented.
"Well, we made a bet," I said. "We
had a wrestling match, and you lost by knock out."
"You kicked me in the balls," he
said.
"Yeah," I said.
"That's cheating!"
"You never said I couldn't cheat,"
I said with a wry smile.
He tugged at the cuffs behind his back,
suddenly noticing them.
"Did you put handcuffs on me?"
"That was part of the deal, remember?"
"Yeah, I remember. But you cheated!"
"Shh," I hushed, and then kissed
him on the mouth. He kissed me back. That was all I needed to know. He was
still mine. "Are you mad at me?"
"Not anymore," he said. "Where's
my shirt?"
"I took it off. I like looking at you
like this. You're really fucking hot."
"Ugh, so are you," he moaned,
still looking a little uncomfortable.
"Are you all right?" I asked.
"I don't know. My balls still ache
like a motherfucker."
"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't
mean to kick you so hard. I didn't think you'd seriously just pass out like
that."
"Neither did I," he said. "No
one's ever done that to me before. God, they still hurt."
"Want me to check on them for you?"
"I guess. Just please, don't do that
again."
I smiled in place of answering, and unzipped
his pants. Then I pulled down his boxers and inspected his privates. His cock
sprang free, and I could see that it was still mostly erect.
"Ooo, someone's excited."
"There's a hot girl in a bikini whose
face is so close to my cock I can feel her breath on it. Of course I'm excited."
I smiled. I then reached down and felt for
his balls in his scrotum... one... two. Both seemed to be there. Both were still
egg-shaped. I gave them a slight squeeze.
"Ow," he yelped.
"Sorry," I said. "I couldn't
help myself. I think your balls are perfectly fine. They certainly feel fine to
me."
"Well they don't to me," he said.
"I'm sorry," I giggled. "How
can I make it up to you?" I whispered this last part, and then slowly
lowered my mouth to his cock without breaking eye contact. "Is there
anything I can do for you?"
"Probably," he said shyly.
"What?" I said. "Be
specific."
"I want you to suck my cock."
I smiled, and was then only too happy to
oblige.
****
I've never actually sucked a man's cock
before. Not a real one, anyway. I had watched a lot of porn though, and then I
had practiced alone with that penis gag. In fact, one could argue that the penis
gag was my first artificial boyfriend. I used to practice sucking it, imaging I
was helping some beautiful boy get to the brink of orgasm, and then riding him
until we both came together. Then I would ride my penis gag on the training
dummy I kept in my room, and come, and come, until I felt satisfied and put it
all away. Then I would feel really empty. Because really, it's a fantasy I
always wanted to share with a real guy. Would Brad be my guy? He was certainly
into it right now.
Sucking a real cock is different, I'll say
that much. For one thing, there's a real man behind it, and he makes noises-delightful,
sexy pleasured noises. Desperate noises.
Then suddenly I stopped, and just looked at
Brad's cock, and then back at him in mock indignation.
"Hey!" I said.
"What?" he asked, his breathing
still heavy from the throes of pleasure, and I could feel him trying to thrust
his cock back up into my mouth, but shackled as he was, he was in no position
to do so.
"I won the bet. You should be the
one pleasuring me," I said. "Bad. Bad, bad, Brad.
Those last four syllables were each pair
with a light slap on his balls with one hand, while the other gripped them and
held them exposed. I'd abused balls before. But never before had I had so much
precision and control. Or an erect cock in my face. I liked having Brad like
this.
"Ow, ow, ow, please stop."
"Sorry...I got a little carried away..."
I said. Though I didn't let go. "It's just so easy, and your balls are
just so...vulnerable!"
He tugged at his cuffs again, and gave me a
look that I didn't quite like. It looked a little violent. Like he maybe wanted
to hurt me.
"Take these off me," he said.
I suddenly felt a little twinge of fear.
Things weren't going well, I thought. Had I fucked this all up? And if I let
him go, was he going to try to get even and hurt me? Or worse...rape me?
No, not Brad,
I thought. There had been a few close calls in the past, but I'd always been
able to fight them off. And Brad would never do that, would he? And anyway, he
wouldn't dare try. He already knows how hard I can kick.
"You agreed to this, though."
"But you cheated," he said.
"So if I beat you without cheating,
you'd be fine with this then?" I asked.
He stopped for a moment and seemed to
consider this.
"I guess."
"Well then relax because I didn't
cheat. We said 'no rules', remember?"
"I don't remember you saying 'no rules',"
he said.
"I'm pretty sure I did," I said,
and gently stroked his cock. "I said 'no rules'."
"I said I didn't want to hurt
you."
"I know. And I said you didn't have
to. All you had to do was pin me. But I didn't say you couldn't hurt me.
Just that you didn't have to. And I never promised not to hurt you.
Though I am sorry...I really didn't mean to kick you so hard. Do you think
you can forgive me?"
Before he could answer, I gently took his
cock back into my mouth again, and slowly gave him very sensual head, never
breaking eye contact, my eyes saying to him that though I was maybe being kind
of mean, I really did want him to enjoy himself.
"Yeah, okay."
I took his cock out of my mouth.
"Cool," I said with a smile, and
promptly tucked it back into his pants for now.
****
"Oh, that's mean!" he said, as I
zipped up his fly.
But he still had a big smile on his face.
"I'm just getting started," I
said, and then kissed his lips, while gently grinding my moist, bikini-clad
crotch again his throbbing erection.
"Oh...Jess..." he moaned.
"I bet you wish you could take me
right now," I said.
"I do," he admitted.
"Tell you what, Brad," I said. "I'll
challenge you to a second game. If you can win that, I'll take those cuffs off
you, and my original offer still stands. The cuffs come off you, and they go on
me. You can torture me all night if you want to. Or you can force me to suck
your cock all night if that's what you want. You can even fuck me, but you'll
have to promise to be gentle."
"Of course," he says.
"Sure, you say that now,"
I said with a smile. "But you don't know the rules of the game yet."
"Okay, so what is it?"
"Well, you say it's not fair, that I
cheated. If you knew low blows were allowed, would you still have challenged
me?"
"Probably," he said. "I'm
not sure."
"You would be allowed to kick back of
course."
"All right..." he said, seeming a
bit confused.
"So I challenge you to a game of
roshambo."
"You mean, like, rock, paper, scissors?
"No...Roshambo. You kick me in the
crotch, then I kick you in the crotch. First person to give up first
loses."
"I'm pretty sure that's not what
roshambo is."
"I'm pretty sure in no position to
argue."
"Fair enough."
"So come on, Brad. I'll even give you
the first shot."
"I've said this before. I don't want
to hurt you."
"Really? After I kicked you really
hard right in the nutsack? You don't want your revenge?"
"Can't my revenge just be to fuck you?"
he asked.
I smiled. "If you win it can. But then
again, what makes you think I won't enjoy that as much as you?"
"You think you would?" he asked
with a hopeful look on his face.
"Of course I would! You're fucking
hot, Brad! I kind of want to just fuck you right now."
"Cool, well...let's do that then,"
he said eagerly.
God damn it!
I thought. I shouldn't have admitted to that. I wanted him to work for it. To
have to earn it.
"God damn it, Brad," I said. "You
changed the subject. If you want to fuck me, Brad, you have to play my game. I'm
not going to help you. You have to win. You have to take control. If you can do
that, you can do anything you want."
"Okay," he said.
"Can you stand?" I asked.
"Can I stand?" he scoffed. "Of
course."
And without needing his hands, he stood.
"Ready?" I smiled.
"Wait," he said.
"What?"
"I want some rules this time."
"Okay."
"And I want to know what you get if I
lose."
"You're not confident you'll win this
time?"
"Not at all," he said.
"Good," I said. "It means
you're smarter than you look."
"Yeah...thanks...I guess."
"If I win, here's what I'm going to
do, so you're not confused about my plans for you this evening. If I win, I'll
be locking your feet together, and then I'm going to put this on you."
I held up the penis gag.
"What's that?" he asked.
"It's a penis gag, Brad. And I'm going
to ride it while it's on your face."
"Oh," he said slowly. "You
know, we can just do that if you want. You don't have to kick me in the-"
"Oh, come on, Brad. I promise I won't
kick you as hard as I can this time. I'll only kick you with twenty percent power.
And you get to kick me as hard as you want."
"Are you sure? I can kick pretty hard."
"I bet you can. But I don't think you'll
hurt me."
"And you promise no harder than twenty
percent on me?"
"I promise. And if you win, you get a
willing sex slave for the night. Sound like a deal?"
"Okay," he said.
"Okay," I said. "You get the
first kick."
"Okay, here goes," said Brad.
****
Brad took a few steps in and then kicked.
And though he's a strong guy, I could tell having his hands locked behind him
like this was playing with his ability to balance, or kick at full power. Or
maybe he was simply holding back. Maybe he truly just didn't want to hurt me.
But come on! Like that was going to happen!
"Ooo," I said, trying to downplay
the pain. I have to admit, it did hurt a little bit. And there might be a
bruise later, but there might be one by the end of the night anyway, if
he got his way with me. But he really couldn't do to my pussy what I could do
to his dangling testicles. Come on, everyone must know that!
"Are you okay?" he asked.
I smiled. "Of course. Are you ready
for yours?"
"Okay," he said, wincing.
I smiled with satisfaction at the
anticipation. He looked so frightened. So apprehensive. I psyched him out a few
times.
"Will you just do it already," he
snapped finally.
"You asked for it," I said, and
snapped my foot forward and gave him a little snapping toe kick to the balls.
And as promised, it was only twenty percent. Well, maybe I cheated again. Maybe
it was more like thirty.
Okay, maybe fifty.
He tried to stand and look brave for a
moment, but then his legs started to wobble.
"Oh, shit," he said, and dropped
to his knees.
"I'm sorry," I said again. "Are
you okay?"
"Oh god," he said. And then his
face grew more and more pained.
I got down on my knees too.
"What are you feeling right now?"
I said, our faces so close we were almost kissing. "How does it feel? I
want to know."
"Oh god, the pain just keeps building.
What the hell? It's like it's getting worse."
"I'm sorry," I said, not really
sounding particularly sorry. Sorry, but not sorry. Seeing him like this was
making me so wet! "You could kick me again now if you want."
"God, no. No, I'm done," he said.
"That's really all you can take down
there? That can't be very convenient."
"It's usually not an issue," he groaned.
"It is tonight obviously," I
said. "Well, I won."
I got up and went to my toy chest, and
produced the ankle cuffs, which I secured on him. For extra control, I was sure
to loop them through his handcuffs, so that he was effectively hogtied-or
hog-chained, if you will.
"Hey, you just said they'd be cuffed
together. You didn't say you'd do this."
"They are merely cuffed together. Just
through your handcuffs, that's all."
"You're really sneaky, Jess, you know
that?"
"I know," I said with a smile. "Now
open wide."
He did as he was told, and opened his
mouth, and in went the short end of the penis gag. It had two different sizes
on either side of it-effectively a small cock and a big cock. I decided that-although
I hadn't specified-I wouldn't be mean and shove the bigger end down his throat
tonight. Besides, the bigger cock was to go in me, just the way I liked
it!
****
"Comfy?" I asked, when I'd
finished securing the penis gag behind his head.
"Mot weawwy," he said through the
gag.
I looked down at him. His hands and feet
locked together behind his back beneath him, pushing his beautifully sculpted,
muscular wrestler's torso outwards, not to mention how vulnerable it made his
privates look.
"Well, I'd like to say things will get
better for you tonight. But I don't think they will. I'm certainly going to
have a good time. You, I'm not so sure."
He made a pathetic whimpering sound. A kind
of combination of fear and desperate horniness. This really wasn't going to be
terribly fair. But my inner pervert was ready to take what she wanted now, and
I wanted to ride his face. And he'd agreed to this after all. But strangely,
there was a part of me that wanted to please him too. Even now. Even when I
clearly didn't have to.
I slid down my dripping wet pussy onto the
penis gag on his face, and slowly rode it. God, it felt so good! Like I said earlier,
I'd played like this on my own before, but always on my own. Having a real man
under there, squirming and moaning...well...it made the whole experience so much
better. I rode his face, letting the penis gag get me in all the right spots,
building, building towards a climax. I could feel the first twinge of an orgasm
coming on.
Could I cum quietly, I wondered? I should.
Because there was one last thing I wanted to do. So I rode his face, and rode
it until I came, convulsively.
"Oh god," I moaned. "Oh god
this is so good. God, Brad, I've never done this before. This is so good!"
And for his part, Brad made muffled noises
beneath me, and certainly didn't sound like he wasn't enjoying this somewhat
too. And to look at his cock, well, Brad's cock looked like it was about to
burst.
"You want me to pleasure you too, don't
you, Brad?"
"Mmm-hmm," he moaned.
"Well, how about this?" I said,
continuing to enjoy riding his face. "I'll make you one last offer. One
last game. I can't promise you what I promised before, because really, Brad, I'm
enjoying this so much now. You lost, and I plan on cashing in on my prize. But
one last game, Brad. And if you win, I'll suck your cock, and I'll let you come
in my mouth. Does that sound like something you'd enjoy?"
"Yeff! Mmm-hmm!" he sputtered.
"Good. I think I'd enjoy that too. But
you're going to have to earn it, Brad, okay?"
"Okemph," he muffled through his
gag.
"Okay." But this means you're
going to have to experience a little more ball pain, okay? But you'll be doing
it for me. Because I really like this, Brad. I like where you are, and all I
want to do is beat your vulnerable little balls there while I ride you. Now, I've
got my riding crop here from my box of toys. For every four times I pump my
crotch up and down on your face, I whip you once. Like this."
I let him feel the sting as I whipped his
balls with it. He let out a moan.
"How was that Brad? Was that too hard?"
"Unh...mo," he said.
I whipped his balls harder. Quite a bit
harder, and felt a wave of excitement come over me.
"Ahahooow..." he moaned.
I think I'm about to come again, I realized.
"Too hard?" I said.
"Yeff," he whimpered.
And just the sound of his suffering made me
come again. I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out. I didn't want him to
know how easily all of this was making me come. I didn't speak again until I
know I could do so without giving away that I was coming already.
"If you make me come just once, Brad.
Just once, and I'll stop whipping your balls, and I'll suck your cock dry,"
I said directly over his cock as I said this, as if speaking into it, and then
I gave it one good suck with my mouth for good measure. Then I stopped. "Deal?"
"Yeff," he said, and so I proceeded
to ride his face hard. And every four pumps or so, I gave his nuts a smack with
the riding crop. He would yelp, and I would try not to make any noise while I
experienced orgasm after orgasm on top of him.
Yes; I admit it. I was cheating. Again. I
was cheating horribly, but I wanted to win. And really, how was he ever to know?
It's not like I have to stop when I come, and it's not like there's any
discharge. Well, not any more discharge than all the secretions I was already
making. I wondered if it was possible to dehydrate oneself through loss of
vaginal secretions alone. Though we may both have been well on our way to
dehydration, perhaps him more so than me.
****
By half an hour in-half an hour of riding
his face, and whipping his balls-not hard enough to really injure him-but hard
enough to make sure he was in pretty much constant pain-he was getting pretty
sweaty. I admired the contours of his well chiseled chest and stomach muscles.
"Fuck, you're so hot, Brad. You make
me so fucking horny, I don't even know what to... oh... god..." realized there
was no disguising it this time, and that choosing to speak just then had been a
mistake. Now even Brad, in his position could tell I was in the throes of a
huge orgasm. So I just went with it. "I'm coming Brad. I'm coming," I
shouted.
Beneath me, I heard him laugh in delight
and relief, and a dark part of me didn't want him getting away with that, so I
whipped him in the nuts really hard, and then he let out a cry and then a
whimper.
I leaned forward toward his cock, not
letting the penis gag out of my pussy just yet, still wanting more. But I knew
I owed Brad by this point. A promise was a promise after all. And anyway, it's
not like I'd really planned on cheating him out of his orgasm...had I? I smiled to
myself wickedly. Of course I had! But another part of me just adored
Brad, and wanted him to feel what I'd been feeling for the past half hour, so I
took his cock into my mouth. Just the head at first. The moment I did, I heard
a moan of pleasure come from beneath me.
"Hmm, let me see," I said. "My
pussy is being entertained. My mouth is entertaining your cock...but what to do
with my hands...?" And then I looked eagerly at his balls. He must, at this
point, have had some sense of where I was going with this.
"Mo," he blubbered, "mo, mo,
mo..."
I grabbed his balls in my hand and gently
squeezed, and he let out a whimper.
"Shh," I said, between pumps with
my mouth on his cock. "This isn't so bad, is it? I think this is very much
the way it should be between a man and a woman. You could come at any time and
it's all over. But me, I can just come again...and again...and again..." and I
said this I was experiencing an orgasm, and though it was probably mean, I'd
stopped his blowjob for the time being to selfishly enjoy it. "And sure,
you're big and muscular, and you should be able to take what you want. But
Brad, doesn't it make you happy knowing just how much you can satisfy me like
this?"
"Mmm-hmm," he moaned.
"I thought so. Good boy," I said,
and continued to suck his cock.
****
Having Brad in my mouth, while still cruelly
squeezing his balls was such a delight! I began to learn more and more about
his pain threshold. It wasn't very high, but he would get there. With a little
practice and time. But also, I was learning more and more about his pleasure
threshold too. And call me crazy, but I could swear that the closer he got to
his own orgasm, the larger he felt in my mouth. Like he was swelling. I could
feel him getting more and more engorged. And it wasn't long until it felt like he
was ready to burst.
Finally, he did, and I felt his warm semen
fill my mouth while his cock pulsated and kept pumping it out. There was a lot
of it too, I thought. A lot more than I was expecting. But still, I wanted it
to be good for him, so I gulped it all down.
Fuck, he must really be enjoying this
too! I thought. Maybe almost as much as me!
And then I began to come again too, and we
enjoyed the last of our orgasms together.
Then, finally, I climbed off him and took
out the penis gag. Then I touched his face as the two of us continued to gasp
for our breaths.
"Did you have a good time, Brad?"
I asked.
"Yeah," he said. "You?"
"I came, didn't I?"
I kissed him, and it was a sweet kiss. I
was very satisfied now, and didn't feel the urge to cause him any more ball
pain. For now.
"How would you like to make this a
regular thing?" I asked.
"Are you going to hurt my balls again
if I don't answer correctly?" he asked.
"I'm going to hurt your balls again no
matter what," I said with a wicked grin.
"Jess, please, that's not funny,"
he said. "I don't think I can take any more."
"Of course you can," I said. "We
just have to build up your tolerance a little is all."
"I'm not sure I could ever tolerate
what you have to give me."
"Of course you can. You just need
motivation. That's all."
I kissed him again. He kissed back eagerly.
"I like you, Brad," I said.
"I like you too, Jess."
"Maybe we can make this a regular
thing?" I asked. "I'll always make it worth your while..."
"Do you have to hurt my balls?"
"Yes," I said. "But only
sometimes. We can always make a game of it," I said. "And sometimes
you might even win. And then think about all the fun you could be having
with me."
"I don't know..." he said.
"Are you scared I'll hurt you too badly?"
"Yeah, a little," he admitted.
"Well...I promise not to, okay? I'll
never hurt you too much, Brad. I promise."
"You really hurt me earlier, you know.
That first kick-"
"I know," I giggled, remembering
it fondly. "But I'll never do that again, I swear. Never that hard."
Not unless I have to.
"Okay," he said.
"Good," I said. I smiled. It was
a lie of course. He had no idea, but it was a lie. I had so many more torturous
games in store in the future for poor naïve Brad. But deep down, I knew that in
the end, we'd both come really hard, and that he'd always be coming back for
more...
###
About the Author
Malicia Paine is a shy, reclusive, sultry
nerd who lives in a little suburban house with a sexy husband who loves and
supports her. She holds a master's degree in English literature, and has a
rather unhealthy fascination with romance, BDSM, and crime fiction. For more
information, please visit her website,
or stay up-to-date on her latest titles by subscribing to her newsletter!
Bonus Material
(Excerpt from: Busting Brad's Balls 2)
It was another long night of dancing at the
strip club. I'd been having kind of a rough night. I'd given only ten dances
that night, and made about two hundred dollars for my efforts. So part of it
was that I'd hoped to make more money that night, and part of it was that I
didn't get to spend enough time teasing the boys. You see, I don't just think
of stripping and giving private dances as a job-something I do-because I have
to. I chose this job, because I can earn a lot of money doing it, and
because I like doing it. There's something about being able to arouse a
man and make him so eager for you after just a few minutes of lap dancing. But
some nights are slow nights, and sometimes I just can't get enough. And after
one or two dances, I started getting into it myself. I'm not entirely sure why.
Maybe it's the pheromones my clients give off. By the fifth or sixth, I'm
really horny myself, and when I get aroused, I think of my hunky boyfriend,
Brad.
Well, Brad isn't exactly my boyfriend, I
realize. Not yet. We'd only just started seeing one another, so it was perhaps
too early to use that label. But just the knowledge that he was out there, and
the memory of all the steamy things we did on our last date got me all hot and
bothered. But Brad hasn't called me at all that day, and I was starting to
worry he may have found himself another girl who doesn't demand...well, what I
demand. I suppose I don't really demand it, per se, but I like torturing
Brad. But I also think I might be falling in love with him, so it's a very
weird place for me right now.
My roommate tells me that I should just
call him myself, but that changes the power dynamic in the relationship. If I'm
calling him, or texting him, he'll know I probably want him as badly as I want
him to want me. But now my resolve is wavering, and I'm wondering if maybe I
really do want him more than he wants me. Or that I need him more than he needs
me.
I could probably have any guy I want. God
knows I get lots of offers in a night. And some of them are kinda cute. And
most of them are passable, and I know I could get them to behave if I wanted
them to. But the heart wants what the heart wants, as they say. And my heart
wanted Brad. And I'd been torturing myself about it for three days already, and
what I really wanted to be doing was torturing him!
I gave my eleventh and final dance for the
night, and this time the guy got a bit frisky with me. I half just wanted to
let him touch me out of spite for Brad, but I knew I shouldn't. So I told him
to stop, but he wouldn't. So, of course, I employed a hard, swift kick to his
nutsack and he toppled like a tower of Jenga blocks. He spent the next ten
minutes on the floor in the back room of the club. When he could stand, I had
him thrown out, and fed-up, I went to get my things at leave.
That's when I realized my phone had
actually been off for the whole shift. So I turned it on, and then waited to
see if there were any texts, and I realized to my relief and delight that Brad
had actually left me about half a dozen.
Brad: Hey, Jess. Would you like to go
see a movie tomorrow night, and then maybe get some dinner?
Brad: You can pick the movie.
Brad: Just let me know.
Brad: Hey, is everything all right?
Brad: Or is your phone just off?
Brad: Well, anyway, call me when you get
this. Or just text me. Even if it's late.
I beamed. He still wanted me. Of course he
did! I knew I should never have doubted him. And now I didn't even have to wait
and seem like I wasn't so eager myself because I'd already made him wait.
Jess: Do you care about the movie, or
are you just eager for a rematch in the bedroom?
He replied almost right away.
Brad: We can do a rematch if you promise
not to kick me in the balls again.
I smiled.
Jess: No kicks this time. I promise.
Brad: Then you have yourself a deal,
missy. Do you still want to do dinner and the movie?
Jess: Sure, but why don't we make it
interesting. Why don't you come over early, and we'll have our wrestling match
before our date. I'll have the apartment all to myself again, so maybe we can
order in and watch something on Netflix. But let's make it interesting. The
winner chooses dinner and the movie. And the loser spends the night in
handcuffs.
Brad: Sounds like you have our date all
planned out already. ;)
Jess: Maybe I do ;)
Brad: Should I be concerned?
Jess: Only if you lose. :p
Brad: Oh, I won't lose this time.
Jess: You'd better hope you don't. ;)
Brad: Winner gets to demand sexual
favors too, right? Just like last time?
Jess: Of course! If you win, I'll be
yours to do whatever you want with all night! ;)
Brad: What if I want your hands from for
some of that?
Jess: I guess that's your choice, Brad.
But there are an awful lot of wonderful things I could do to you using just my
mouth.
Brad: Okay, stop it, you're making me
hard.
Jess: You could make me use my mouth on
you all night. Is that something you think you'd like, Brad? Me on my knees,
pleasing you with my mouth?
Brad: God, yes.
Jess: Well then, it's up to you. But you
know I can get a little naughty when my hands are free and your balls are right
there. You remember what happened last time.
Brad: You make two really good points.
Brad: If I didn't know better, I'd say
it sounds like you don't even want to win.
Jess: Maybe I don't. ;)
Brad: Hmmm... I still don't know quite
what to make of you, Jess.
Jess: Good. Let's keep it that way for
now.
Brad: Well, it's late. I should sleep if
I don't want to be a vegetable at school tomorrow. Good night, Jess.
Jess: Good night, Brad. xo
****
The next night, Brad came straight over
after class, and I was ready to entertain him for the night. I stripped down
for the occasion, and put on my favorite black sports bikini, and evaluated
myself in the mirror. I liked this one because of the playful design. It
offered all the support I needed up top, bit still showed a little cleavage in
the criss-cross top of the bra. Perfect for distracting my horny boy-toy. The
bottoms were very low cut, and I figured Brad would have a hard time
concentrating tonight seeing it. And a very hard time saying no to me. Of
course, I was going to make it very hard for him to say no to me in other ways,
too.
Brad showed up in a muscle shirt and track
pants. Typical Brad attire, I thought. But he did look really hot. From the
look on Brad's face when I answered the door, he hadn't been expecting me to be
dressed like this.
I struck sultry pose.
"Hello Brad," I said. "Are
you going to come in, or are you just going to stand in the doorway and stare at
me?"
"If I come in, can I still stare at
you?" he said cracking a smile.
"Oh, I think you can do a great deal
more than that," I said
Brad came in and closed the door behind
him, and I learned back against the back of the couch with my hands behind my back.
I tilted my head sideways and bit my lip and looked at him.
Brad put down his gym bag and came up to me
and kissed me. I couldn't help but kiss him back, letting my lips dance on his.
His hands began to explore my body-my breasts and my bare stomach. I had to
take my hands from behind me and grab him by the wrists and pull away to calm
down.
I took a few deep breaths. So did he. I
felt so ready for him right now, and from the looks of the growing bulge in his
track pants, so did he.
"Not so fast, Brad. We have a score to
settle first."
"I know, I know," he said. "You
just look so hot though."
"I know," I smiled. "So do
you, but you don't see me losing control."
"That's really not the same. I didn't
expect you to answer the door in a bikini."
"I know," I smiled. "I
wanted to surprise you. Do you like it?"
"Yeah, of course! I really like
it," he said.
He tried to touch me again and I smacked
his hand away.
"First things first, Brad. We've got a
score to settle."
"Do we really have to do that first?"
I looked at the bulge in his pants again,
then back up at him.
"Something tells me that we do. Let's
just say that right now you seem to have a lot of extra motivation to win. And
I think you're going to need it."
"Oh, am I?"
"Uh-huh."
I turned and retrieved the pair of
handcuffs I'd left on the couch behind me, and then dangled them on one finger
by the chain.
"Let's make this interesting, shall
we?" I said.
"You've made it pretty interesting
already," he said, unable to take his eyes off my body.
I smiled. "Whoever manages to handcuff
the other person first wins. You can do this by any means necessary, but you
don't necessarily have to pin me for ten seconds. You just have to get my hands
cuffed."
"This is going to be over pretty fast
then," he said. "Who starts with the handcuffs? You?"
"If you want. We can also each start
with a hand on one cuff."
"Okay," he said. "And you
remember, you said no kicking, right?"
"No kicking," I said with a
smile. "No striking of any kind. Just my strength against yours."
"You really do want to lose don't
you?" he said.
"What makes you say that?"
"Well I'm far stronger than you are. I
weigh twice what you weigh. How do you expect to win?"
"You'll have to try me and see. You
don't think I can?"
"No, I don't."
"Okay, mister smarty pants. Then why
don't we make this even more interesting. In addition to the winner getting to
chose the movie, having to pay for dinner, and be handcuffed all night, the
winner also gets to decide what the loser eats, and the loser has to sleep in
the handcuffs until tomorrow morning, and doesn't get any orgasms at all, all
night, no matter how much he or she begs."
"Fine," he sneered, "but you're
going to regret agreeing to that," he said.
One of us certainly is, I thought.
"Okay, but you're a bit overdressed
for this."
"Am I now?"
"Uh-huh. Lose the shirt."
He doffed his muscle shirt, revealing his
exquisite chiseled muscular chest. For a moment I got lost in the sigh of it,
and then realized that maybe getting him to lose his top would be a distraction
for me. Sexy torso distraction was a two-way street, after all. I needed a real
advantage.
"Lose the shoes and pants too," I
said.
He eyed my suspiciously.
"Why do you need me to take off my
pants?" he asked.
Because I need easy access to your balls
for this to work, I thought.
"Look at what I'm wearing,"
I said.
Of course I didn't need to tell him to
look; he was already staring.
"Fair enough," he said, and
pulled off shoes, socks, and then his pants.
Now he was in nothing but his briefs.
Perfect, I
thought. Now this match truly would be brief, so to speak.
"Ready?" I said, dangling the
cuffs enticingly.
"Ready," he said, and then
reached for the cuffs.
"On three," I said.
"One... two... three..."
Brad immediately yanked the handcuffs hard
towards himself, trying to grab me in the process. I tried to hold onto the
cuffs with both hands, but he was just so powerful. And if he pulled me in
completely, and if he caught both my hands there, I was finished. And we couldn't
have that. I had every intention of having numerous orgasms tonight, so for
now, I needed to be smart if I wanted to win.
So as he pulled toward himself, I squealed
as though I was desperately trying to match his strength, and losing. Of course,
I knew I couldn't really win a match of raw strength, and what I was really
doing was trying to wait for the right moment to simply let go and try to throw
him off balance.
I let go of the cuffs, and to my chagrin,
he just pulled them into one hand without losing any balance at all. That was
no problem, I thought, since it now meant that I'd be on the pure defensive,
and he'd be trying to think of how to force both of my hands into those cuffs
with one hand.
Then he came at me, and quickly, I found
him easily taking control of my body like some kind of rag doll. But I had one
final move. He pinned one hand with his one free hand, and then tried to adjust
the cuffs in the other hand to a position from which he could close the cuff on
me. But I had one free hand, and his balls were right there, unprotected. So I
grabbed them and squeezed hard.
"Ow, ow, ow," he said, letting go
of my other hand so he could try to pry his balls free.
But my hand just squeezed harder.
"Hey you said you wouldn't..."
"I said no strikes of any kind. I
never said anything about squeezing."
"Ow, ow, ow, okay, let go. Please.
Wait."
"Why should I let go?" I said.
"It's not like you can cuff me like
this anyway," he said.
"I can squeeze far harder than this,
Brad. And I will, too. Unless you handcuff yourself."
"Not likely," he said.
So I squeezed hard.
"Ow! Oh god, okay. Stop, stop, stop."
"Are you going to do as you're told
then?"
"Okay," he whimpered. "Okay."
"Handcuffs on, Brad."
He closed one around his first wrist, and
then went to lock the second.
"Behind, Brad. I want your hands
locked behind you tonight."
Brad reluctantly put his hands behind his
back, and then locked the other cuff.
"You can let go of me now," he
said.
"Hold on," I said, and reached
around behind him to make sure they were good and tight, and that he couldn't
get out. Then, finally, I gave his balls another playful squeeze, eliciting a
yelp before I let him go.
Then I stood up and ran my fingers along
his delicious, muscular chest.
"Mmm," I purred. "I'm going
to have some fun with you tonight."
"You cheated," he said. "Again."
"You're only saying that because I won
again," I said. "Who's to say you're not the one cheating, Brad? Look
at the size difference between us. How else am I supposed to beat you?"
"That's not the point," he
grumbled. "You tricked me."
"And you fell for it. Again," I
said, lowering my hand to rub at the throbbing cock that bulged in his
underwear. "And now you're all mine."
"Oh," he moaned, when my hand
reached his cock.
"Don't worry," I said. "It
won't be all bad. You just won't get to cum, that's all."
"God, were you serious about that?"
"Absolutely," I said.
"God. God damn it. Why did I agree to
this?"
"Because you were thinking with this,"
I said, rubbing his cock. Then I grabbed his balls and gave them a playful
squeeze. "And these. But don't beat yourself up about it. That's my job
tonight."
"Jess," he gasped. "Jess,
please."
"Please what?"
"Please go easy on my balls tonight?"
"I can't promise anything," I
said, and pulled down his underwear roughly, and lowered them to the ground. He
gasped fearfully.
I stayed there on my knees, and looked up
at him with mischief in my eyes. I grabbed his naked balls in my hand, and then
played with them like a pair of Baoding balls. He looked down at me
apprehensively. But his cock was halfway hard already.
"Ooo, what have we here?" I said,
and then I stroked it with my other hand. His cock began to grow even bigger
and stiffer immediately. I leaned in close, my lips just centimeters from the
tip of his cock. "You can't come tonight. But maybe..." I whispered,
and then took his glans into my mouth, and sucked it slowly and sensually.
"Oh," he moaned, shutting his
eyes and throwing his head back, his hands tugging at the chain locking his
hands behind his back, making a metallic clack sound.
"That doesn't mean I don't still want
you to enjoy yourself."
I sucked his cock while stroking with one
hand and fondling his balls with the other. He made the most delightful
whimpering noises while I did so. I looked up at him. He was flexing his
muscles and chest, perhaps involuntarily. Staring at him like that, seeing him so
strong and yet so vulnerable, made my pussy so very wet down below. My pussy
ached for his cock. But I didn't want to risk letting him cum. In fact,
I thought. I should stop. That's enough.
[End of Sample]
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