An Arrogant Male 2 - Beth’s Revenge

This is a continuation of a tale that can be found at:

https://www.reddit.com/r/BallbustingStories/comments/11244sm/an\_arrogant\_male/


My sister had been devastated when she was told her boyfriend was sleeping with another girl. At first, she did not want to believe it but when accused by her, Mark had made no attempt to deny it, in fact he didn’t seem to think it was a big deal.

“It just happened,” he explained, “It actually meant very little to me”.

It was this attitude that perhaps had infuriated Beth the most. He showed no regret, offered no apology and Beth suspected that it had not been the first time.

Witnessing my destruction of John’s testicles, Beth found herself fantasying about inflicting similar pain and humiliation on her cheating ex-boyfriend Mark. She had stormed off angrily when she had confronted Mark but even just one week after the breakup, she deeply regretted not having a go at him and saying how much she had been humiliated and hurt. Seeing how easily I had reduced John to a helpless and sobbing wreck, she now had the desire to do so to her ex.

Watching the recording Beth had made of my destruction of John, we discussed how Beth could get her revenge. In a sense, it had just “happened” with John. I had not planned it and he certainly did not expect it. We agreed we needed to come up with some plan. Thinking we needed to get some background information on his affair, we visited the girl who he had slept with. Although we did wonder if she would want to talk to us, it turned out she was more than willing.

“He picked me up in a pub,” she explained, “I had been stood up and was feeing quite low.”

Introducing herself as Carol, she described how comforting, charming and polite he had been and how she had allowed him to buy her a few drinks. Being somewhat intoxicated, she rather stupidly agreed to go back to his house where one thing led to another. She hadn’t intended to have sex with Mark, but she had to admit she did not say no either. What had annoyed her was that once the deed was done, he couldn’t get her out of the house fast enough, although he did take her number and said he would phone.

“I was not sure how much I wanted him to phone at first,” she admitted, “but when he hadn’t phoned after two days, I became quite angry and bitter. I felt I had been used for a one-night stand.”

Carol’s account confirmed John’s view that the sex had meant “very little” to Mark, but it did little to sooth Beth’s anger, rather it enflamed it. Beth knew, but had never been in, the pub that Carol had referred to. It was quite close to Mark’s house and we decided to pay it a visit. Beth stayed in the car whilst I entered the pub. Mark had never met me, but I recognised him from one of Beth’s photos. He was sitting in a booth with a girl and another couple – clearly, he had managed to get over Beth quite quickly.

Ordering a soft drink from the barmaid, I explained my embarrassment that a former boyfriend was in a booth with his new girlfriend. She immediately glanced over at Mark’s booth, and I confirmed her suspicion.

“No need to feel embarrassed,” she said, “Just thank your lucky stars. That guy seems to have a different female every other week.”

The emerging picture was that Mark was simply a womaniser, a guy who chased and bedded women or “played the field” as some men would describe it. The barmaid told me that on more than one occasion, she had seen Mark chat up and get off with single women in the bar. Now there may be no law against such behaviour but the mistake Mark made was to involve my sister and for that he had to pay. I returned to the car and as we drove home, we discussed our strategy.

Our plan was far from fool proof and it involved John whose reluctant participation in our scheme was guaranteed by virtue of the compromising video and photos I had of him from our last encounter. We turned up at the pub on Friday and Saturday night but Mark was not there. Our luck changed on the Sunday, however, as we saw Mark sitting in a booth with two male friends. John’s sullen and bored appearance enhanced our performance which consisted of John standing up as if to storm off, suggesting that we had some huge argument. I stayed there, trying to look sad, just sipping my drink. Though it took longer than expected, Mark eventually took the bait.

Carol was right in that Mark did appear to be very charming and he bought me a large glass of wine. Rather than drink it, however, I “accidentally” tilted it and spilt it all over Mark’s trousers, in particular, all around the area of his groin. His initial fury was abated, not so much by my apology, but by my unsuccessful attempt to wipe away the wet wine from his crotch. I’m sure he enjoyed my touching of his penis.

“Look, I stay quite close to the pub,” he said, “Would you mind if I went home and changed. You can accompany me if you like.”

We walked quickly back to his house, and he went into his bedroom to change. I took this opportunity to go to and unlock his front door before following him into the bedroom. His socks, shoes and trousers removed, he was in the process of taking off his underpants when I entered giving me a clear view of his wet and flaccid penis.

“Assuming that is wine on your penis, perhaps there may be a way for me to salvage some of it”, I suggested innocently.

Understanding the implication of my proposal, he was encouraged to remove his underpants totally. Accustomed to being in control, he looked somewhat uncomfortable at first, but the scent of a potential blowjob was all the incentive he needed. As he stood facing me, now totally naked, I knelt before him as though I was about to take his fully erect cock into my mouth.

“It would help if you were to widen your legs so I can suck the wine from your balls,” I recommended.

Ignoring the fact that this placed him in such a vulnerable position, he opened his legs as I knew he would. Males think solely with their dicks but it was his balls that I was thinking about. Teasing him, I ran my fingers down the length of his engorged penis but on reaching the base, I could resist no further. I grasped his balls in my right hand and squeezed hard, bringing him screaming to his knees. His hands made a feeble attempt to pull mine from his balls, but I yanked left and right, up and down, totally incapacitating his efforts. I ignored his screams of pain and his writhing n agony, if anything finding them stimulating. Forcing him on to his back, I sat on his legs and, still grasping his balls, I looked down triumphantly at the sweating, sobbing and helpless male now totally in my power.

It was at that point that Beth entered the room with a bag over her shoulder and, more menacingly, a raised baseball bat. Seeing I was in total control, however, a smile came to her face, and she laid the bat down before capturing Mark’s attention.

“I see you’ve met my sister,” she remarked, “tell me, what’s it like to be the one taken advantage of for a change?”

No response was expected, and none came. Mark remained on his back whilst I retained a grip on his balls, squeezing occasionally just to reinforce the hopelessness of his position (and to be honest, because I enjoyed it). Beth, meantime, removed a pair of scissors, a length of rope and some duct tape from her bag. I could see the panic and despair in his eyes as he spied the scissors, his imagination must have been running wild. Spasms of pain, however, caused by my occasional squeezing of his balls, reinforced the fact that there was nothing he could do whilst we could do anything we wanted.

Beth used the rope to form what was basically a small lasso, which I subsequently looped around his balls and tightened. I wound it round his ball sack a further couple of times and tied another knot to ensure everything was secure before standing up and tugging on the string. This had the desired effect in causing Mark pain but to me it was less satisfying that actually gripping him by the balls. Tonight, however, was not about me and I handed the rope to Beth, allowing her to assume control of her former boyfriend.

“Stand up with your legs apart,” she commanded, “and place your hands behind your back.”

Mark struggled to get up on to his feet, and though understandably reluctant to expose his already sore genitals to a spurned girlfriend, he knew he had no choice but to comply. Moving behind him, I wound the duct tape around his wrists, firmly securing his hands behind his back. Beth then literally led him by the balls into the living room where she grilled him about why he had been unfaithful to her with Carol and had there been other girls. Meantime, I searched and found his phone as we wanted a recording of Beth’s revenge and also the ability to send whatever we chose to his contacts.

Entering the living room, I sensed that Beth, despite trying to look calm, was becoming very angry. She later told me that Mark’s version of his “indiscretion” was totally at odds with that of Carol’s and he denied that he had been unfaithful on any other occasion. The panic on his face when I asked for his phone pin prompted me to think that I should look at some of his content. Foolishly perhaps,he refused to give his pin as we could easily have forced it out of him, but face recognition is a powerful tool. A quick look at his “Whatsapp” indicated a lot of chat with a guy called James and the attachments appeared to contain a number of images depicting females being abused by males. Hearing Beth shouting loudly at Mark made me realise she has come to the end of her tether.

“You’re nothing but a fucking womaniser who simply wants sex from as many women as he can take advantage of”, she was screaming at Mark.

Having finally lost it, she launched a vicious kick right into his groin. He fell to the floor, obviously in great pain and I quickly started recording the action on his phone, very annoyed that I had missed her first kick. She still had hold of the rope which she pulled to move him into position for a series of kicks to his face and body and, when possible, to his groin. Pausing to take breath after a while, I advised her that she would be more effective if we secured him a bit better. Seeing some sense in this, she helped me pull him into a position where we could tape one of his legs to the settee and the other to a heavy chair. This gave Beth clear access to his balls and though he could wriggle and writhe all he wanted, he could not move to protect his groin.

Now calmed down, she was able to concentrate on delivering pain. As I began the recording, she knelt down by his testicles and began ramming knee after knee into his exposed testicles. Disregarding his screams of pain and pleas for mercy, she continued by pressing her knees down on to his balls. Occasionally, she would pull up the rope around his ball sack, stretching it, and his body, high in the air as he arched his back. At some point he blacked out, giving Beth some respite and a chance to compose herself.

It also gave us the opportunity to examine the damage we had inflicted upon Mark thus far and take some photos. His testicles were certainly badly swollen and had turned a lovely purple and attractive colour. We thought about removing the noose but couldn’t loosen the first knot and were unable to do so.

“Get me the scissors,”, she said with an evil smile on her face, “I think he could do with a shave.”

I handed Beth the scissors but asked her to wait until I went to the bathroom. There, I found his electric razor which unfortunately was battery operated. I would have preferred the satisfaction of using an open razor, but beggars can’t be choosers. Speaking of beggars, I returned to hear Mark begging for mercy and apologising for “everything” whilst Beth opened and closed the scissors adjacent to his cock. He was petrified.

“Don’t move,” she said threateningly, “I might end up snipping the wrong thing.”

Having placed the razor and some after-shave I had brought from the bathroom beside Beth, I began recording her trimming his pubic hair with her scissors. Mark simply lay there, crying to himself but seemingly accepting his fate. After a while, Beth picked up the razor and began ensuring a clean shave of his entire groin, even his scrotum. This was far more painful than the scissoring and more protests emerged from Mark. It was applying the after-shave lotion, however, that brought even louder screams of agony – who would have thought? Beth continued her fun by caressing and playing with his balls before forcing an ejaculation which left him weeping for some reason.

Just for a laugh, we then took some videos of Mark kissing Beth’s feet, confessing his sins and begging her forgiveness We even forced him to say how he had deserved his punishment and thanked us for its administration. In fact, having had our fill, we were almost about to call it a day, when we heard the front door open. Seeing an opportunity to retrieve the situation perhaps, Mark shouted out, “I’m in here.” Furious at this, Beth kneed him viciously in the balls and followed him down to the floor once more, pinning his legs with her knee and pulling up hard with the rope around his testicles.

Keith, Mark’s housemate, was initially wary and hesitated when he heard Mark’s first shout but the screams of agony as Mark’s balls were stretched to the limit saw him crashing into the room. The sight that greeted him was of Mark, naked and shrieking in pain, with a female apparently intent on pulling his balls off.

“Get the fuck off him bitch,” he shouted, advancing aggressively on Beth but not seeing the look of alarm on Mark’s face.

Emerging from behind the open door, I swung the baseball bat, catching Keith at the side of his knee. Keith crumpled to the floor clutching what appeared to be a broken leg. Conveniently lying on his back, I simply performed a knee drop to his stomach, completely knocking the wind out of him. It was a relatively simple task for me to turn him over on to his front and secure his hands there with Beth’s duct tape. We now had two males, each with their hands tied behind their back and both at our mercy.

“Who have we here,” I enquired of Beth, “and what do we do with him?”

Truth to tell, I had some ideas of my own.