The Museum of Feminist Art - Contempary Art Wing
*Contains: >!sph, mentions castration, public nudity!<*
[Click here for the first part!](https://www.reddit.com/r/BallbustingStories/comments/16ukhny/the_museum_of_feminist_art/)
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“… making it such a brazen inversion of power dynamics and a bold challenge to the patriarchy,” Amy said. “The supposed monster has slain the man, not the human, but the man.” Her eyes left the tour group for a few seconds so she could take in the magnificent craftsmanship for herself one more time.
“Can I ask a question, Miss… uhm…”
“Please, call me Amy. We’re all like sisters here. What do you want to know?” She tried to be as friendly and reassuring to the shy girl as possible. Sure, Jen was tall and fit but Amy had already had fun with her the last time she took the tour. But this art student, Mia as she now knew, had a different sort of charm, the sort of bookworm vibes that made her want to push her down and have her way with the girl.
“Right, Amy. Why is…” Mia fidgeted, adjusting her large, round glasses. “… why is it so *small*?”
Amy blinked a few times and brushed a stray lock of blue hair behind an ear. “It… Oh! You mean the penis in Medusa’s hand!”
“Well, uhm, yes, that and the rest of his… package,” Mia said and blushed.
“Probably just to make fun of men, like everything in here,” the annoying guy in sunglasses said. As if wearing sunglasses indoors wasn’t douchey enough, he had a real loud mouth and always shared his unwelcome opinions. He was definitely a virgin, Amy could tell. And the longer this tour went, the surer Amy was he was the pathetic kind that blamed girls for not wanting to touch his pathetic, little, unwashed dick… probably.
“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to stop mansplaining the exhibits in the museum. And to inform you, the ancient Greeks on the contrary thought that large penises were brutish, something only barbarians and beasts had, while a modest penis was seen as cultured, civilized, even intelligent. A man with a tiny pecker was thought to be an upstanding citizen, interested in giving his all to the *polis* instead of a lust-driven beast that thought with its lower head.”
“There’s no way a woman came up with that,” Jen snickered, prompting a few giggles from the other women.
The woman who was visiting with her husband turned to her spouse and said, loud enough for all to hear, “Hear that, honey? Back then you would have been a model citizen, an honest to goodness paragon of virtue considering what you’re packing.”
A second of stunned silence followed, then the whole group erupted in laughter, while her blushing husband seemed to want to shrink in on himself.
When Amy got her own laughter under control, she continued. “We don’t know whether the women of ancient Greece agreed with this assessment of a man’s character, but in art it is deliberately used to indicate a man of reason and morality. The artist chose to keep the heroic figure of Perseus, just like Medusa is still depicted as the monster to draw our focus to the role reversal. Instead of Perseus cutting off Medusa’s head, she has cut off his manhood. It is telling us that, despite all its supposed heroics and civilized conduct, the true monster is the patriarchy. And just look at the detail! To carve all these wrinkles into the tiny space of a little scrotum like that, what handicraft.”
She watched the miniscule manhood Medusa pinched between two fingers a little longer, then clapped her hands.
“Alright, that does it for our Greek section. In the beginning, I mentioned that there are unifying themes to our sections. Can anyone guess what the theme is for this part?”
“I thought the theme *was* Greek artworks?” the woman who had just made fun of her husband’s baby dick. It was a shame she hadn’t taken her top off to let her tits out.
*Not yet, at least*, Amy thought. She had already sworn she would find a way to make Mia get her tits out before this tour was over, why not add the wife to her list as well.
“That is the manifest theme, yes, but we are hoping that visitors gain deeper insights into feminism and how it relates to their life through these artworks, so there is a bit more to it. Yes, Jen?”
The tall black woman stood on tiptoes, her arms crossed behind her back, which pushed the nice handful of titty she possessed out, emphasizing the erect, rosy tips. Wistfully, Amy remembered how much she had liked playing with them. “Is the theme how fun it is to take away a boy’s balls? I mean, all the women in the art seem to have a grand old time,” she said with a smile.
Amy giggled. “A very good guess and personally, I’m inclined to agree, but the real theme is liberation. Casting off both the physical and mental shackles of the patriarchy by destroying what is threatening to destroy you and your femininity.” She turned and slowly started walking towards the next hall. “Please don’t feel bad if you didn’t see that theme in the pieces here, or if you disagree and think Jen’s answer makes more sense… or is more enjoyable. There is no right or wrong here, ladies.”
The next wing seemed less like a museum and more like the showroom of an Ikea. Islands of ‘rooms’ with a wall or two removed to allow people to peer inside littered the wing. They were furnished in the style of different eras and haphazardly strewn around the open hall, daring visitors to chart their own course through the maze of rooms.
“Next up, I would like to show you the museum’s wing of contemporary art. On display here are artworks of different eras, starting from the 1950s. You are welcome to explore the hall however you see fit, though I still have to ask you to not touch the exhibits. But don’t worry, we will be heading to a hall with interactive exhibits after his one.”
When the group asked no questions, she pushed her arms up under her breasts to look at her watch. She knew it would inevitably draw attention to her bare chest. A *smack* and a groan from one of the boys here with their girlfriends told her she had been successful. “Let us meet up back here in 40 minutes. I will be walking between the exhibits to answer any questions you might have about the artworks.”
The tour group dispersed into smaller cliques of three to four people. Most people still headed to the ‘50s’ exhibits first, admiring the mosaic of a proud communist woman smashing the balls of a capitalist man with her sledgehammer. Most tour groups headed there first and Amy couldn’t blame them. Art from beyond the iron curtain was nothing if not bold and loud.
She answered a few of their questions, pointed them to the backside of that particular showroom where the museum had placed something of a companion piece to it, then looked around for any others of her little tour group. She spotted Mia, along with the blond bombshell that had her tits out and the pathetic virgin heading towards the ‘70s’ exhibit.
*Mia is super cute and I bet she has an adorable set of puppies under that sweater, but maybe I should hedge my bets.*
She walked up to the group and stopped right next to the blonde. “Hey, are you guys having fun? I want to make sure you’re all comfortable. I hope you’re not cold…?” Amy said and not so subtly glanced at the belle’s massive rack.
“Ah, oui, je suis… how you say? Très confortable,” the blonde said with a cute little bounce that made her tits jiggle.
*Oh God, she’s French. I’m going to soak through my panties.*
“Ah, I didn’t catch your name.”
“I am Céleste, enchanté,” she said and giggled.
“Hey girls, I’m Nick, by the way. Not to brag, but I drive a Mini,” the virgin said, wiggled his eyebrows and Amy could feel herself dry up faster than a spilled glass of water in the desert.
“Oh, is zat… comment se dit, ze size of your wang?”
Amy and Mia both snorted with laughter, while Céleste just looked wholly confused. Nick grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like ‘cunts’, but Amy was laughing too hard to hear it.
When they had themselves under control again, Mia demanded her attention again, and Amy was pleased to notice that the nerdy looking girl had trouble keeping her eyes off of Amy’s breasts.
“I was wondering, where actually is the artwork here? The plaque at the side just reads, *Enlightenment, Yoko Ono and an unnamed artist, 1972*. But the room just looks like a regular room from that era.”
“It’s good that you asked,” Amy said and stood behind her. She made sure to press her chest against her back. “Notice anything unusual about the room?”
Mia jumped when she felt Amy press herself against her but forced herself to study the room. “N-no? I see a wooden sofa, plastic chairs, a glass table… the wallpaper is somewhere between hippie and space age aesthetic but that doesn’t seem very notable.”
Amy gently grabbed Mia’s shoulders and rubbed them. “Remember the name of the piece?”
“Huh… Oh! It’s darker here than in the other showrooms.” Her eyes searched the room. “Is it the lava lamp?”
“Try it out, Mia.” She pushed her hands on the girl’s hips and pushed her forward. Her hands brushed against her butt entirely by accident.
Mia eyed the lamp curiously, then spotted a switch in the wall next to it. She flipped it and immediately, the room lit up in a sultry bright-red.
“Oh, it works. It’s just a lava lamp?”
“Are you sure about that?”
Celéste joined them, Nick lurking right behind the chesty French girl. “Ze lamp… Oh, non, non, non! Ce sont des couilles!” She laughed a bright, loud laugh, pointing at the lamp as her ample assets quaked.
“What did she say? … Wait, that doesn’t look like wax in there… Are those…?”
[“Yes,” Amy said.](https://imgur.com/a/HSBiJzB)
Mia gasped and slammed her hand in front of her mouth. “Are they… real? They’re so big…”
Amy shifted back to her tour guide voice. “Well, the artist has never given a list of what materials she has used but, remember the plaque?” Mia nodded. “Let’s just say, Mrs. Ono never said who her collaborator for this piece was. Maybe it was a reaction to those saying she broke up the Beatles? Maybe she took measures to make sure John would be easier to control… or maybe it has nothing to do with him. There were other men in her life, after all, and all of them could have been… unwilling donators for this piece.”
“What the hell, that’s obviously fake. That would be illegal, and no guy has balls that big anyway,” Nick said.
Amy rolled her eyes. She walked towards him, her arms crossed below her chest. He flinched when she got close, but she kept walking until she was face to face with him, her nipples poking his chest. He could taste her breath. Her thigh was slightly raised, positioned so that it came up between his legs, barely touching his thigh right below his crotch. She could see the bulge in his pants while his eyes were glued to her chest.
*Such a virgin.*
“Nick, do you like my breasts?”
“Wh-what?”
“My boobs, my tits, do you like them?”
He swallowed heavily. “Ye-yeah.”
“Even though Celéste’s are so much bigger than mine?”
“Yeah… I mean, I still like yours!”
Her lips pressed into a thin smile. “Then I suggest you keep such comments to yourself. After all, I like your balls,” she said and raised her leg more. Her thigh now pressed into his crotch and she could feel his little nuts flatten against her leg. “… even if they are much smaller than other guys’. Otherwise, I’m going to be forced to hurt them, really, really bad. You don’t want that, do you, Nick?”
“N-no,” he gasped. Her thigh moved back and forth, rolling his nuts around on her leg but also indirectly stroking his dick.
“Good boy.” *I give him until the end of this wing before he coughs up those grapes he has for balls.*
Amy turned back to the other two. “Come around the back, I think you’re going to like this next piece.”
The ‘room’ behind the lamp exhibit was bare except for a bunch of manuscript pages stuck to a wall, with some strange shapes protruding from the wall below them.
“Ze B.U.S.T manifesto…?” Celéste read out. “Qu’est-ce que c’est?”
Amy nodded. “Have you ever heard of Valerie Solanas?”
“Wasn’t she the one who attacked Andy Warhol?” Mia asked.
“She did. Miss Solanas was a feminist, some call her a radical, but I try to avoid such labels, who was well known for her S.C.U.M manifesto. But few know that, after her attack on Warhol, she wrote another book – the B.U.S.T. manifesto.”
“What does eet stand for?” Celéste asked with a charming lilt that made Amy want to pin her to the ground and rip her clothes off. What few she was still wearing, anyway.
“She never said. The curator of our museum, Miss Notts-Cutter often joked that it stood for, ahem, *bitchy, unapologetic, smashes testicles*, as Valerie’s ideal of a feminist, but I highly doubt that is what Valerie Solanas had in mind.”
She watched the giggling Celéste and blushing Mia read the first page of the manifesto. Nick hovered near them, unable to tear his eyes from Celéste and Amy’s tits but she could tell he was very uncomfortable. Amy wasn’t sure whether that was from the subject matter or because his little penis tried to poke a hole in his pants.
“They’re instructions for… kicking men?” Amy asked.
“Exactly right! It seems that Miss Solanas was unhappy with her sisters' fight against the patriarchy, so she sought to teach them how to do it properly. This first page instructs the reader how to properly target the testicles when a man is sitting on the ground or lying down. It is not included in the pages of the manifesto we have on display here, but she explains that she starts the book this way because she believes that is a man’s natural position, below a woman, ready to receive his punishment.”
“Ooh! Is zat for trying out kicks?” Celéste asked and pointed to a rubber scrotum protruding from the wall at roughly ankle height.
“Yes, we wanted to encourage visitors to try out the techniques in the book. Please feel free to try out the provided dummies, they are exceptionally durable and-”
*POP*
Amy jumped, looking for the source of the sudden loud bang. Mia and Nick were equally shocked as she was, so they most likely weren’t the source. Then her eyes fell on Celéste. Her shoe – simple white chucks – was drawing back from the fake testicles. The right rubber gonad had exploded, ripping a hole in the faux scrotum, spilling its rubbery insides onto the floor of the exhibit.
“That’s- I’ve never seen anyone-”
“Oh non! I broke it?”
“Wow,” Mia breathed beside her and Amy was inclined to agree.
“Don’t worry, that’s… fine. I will instruct staff to replace that dummy. For now, why don’t we take a look at the other instructions.” *Well, I’m definitely soaked now. God, what a woman.*
The group of three women moved towards the rest of the instructions. There were more guides on kicking in different scenarios, how to knee a pair, instructions on how to repeatedly punch a sack so that it behaved like a speedbag, how to bust balls with common household items, and finally, the crowning piece of the book.
“*Monkey steals the peach*?” Mia doubtfully eyed the worn and tattered rubber nutsack dangling in front of her.
“Yes! It’s a very effective technique that is taught in the more serious self-defense courses to this day. Even if you have never heard of it, it has become something of a mantra for women everywhere: ‘grab, twist and pull’. That’s essentially what the ‘monkey steals the peach’ technique is. Of course, most self-defense instructors emphasize that it should only be used in an emergency since it has a high chance of ripping the testicular cords, effectively castrating its target. But Valerie Solanas being who she is, she argues that it should be mandatory knowledge for all women and used at the slightest provocation.”
“How interesting,” Celéste commented.
“Would you like to try it out, Mia?”
The brunette looked unsure, but under Amy’s and Celéste’s intense stares nodded. She gently grasped the rubber nuts, slowly twisted her wrist, and then gave it a gentle pull.
“Non, non, regarde-moi!” Celéste said and roughly grabbed the scrotum. She twisted her hand as far as it would turn, then yanked on them with all her might.
Amy saw it coming, but she was unable to stop the eager French girl. With a *snap*, the balls came free. “Ah, non, not again!”
Amy sighed. “It’s fine, this particular exhibit tends to break down like this once in a while. A lot of our visitors are very motivated to try out the techniques in this book and ‘monkey steals the peach’ is the most popular technique. We try to nurture such passion, so this is expected. Well then, how did it feel, Mia? Did you like?”
“I don’t know, I’ve never done this before…” the mousy girl said. “It feels like there is something lacking?”
“True, if you were to perform these techniques on a man, you would no doubt get a reaction even if you only lightly pulled on the gonads like you did.”
“Ah!” Celéste said. She stuffed the rubber nuts into a pocket in her skirt, apparently wanting to keep them as a souvenir. Then she walked behind Nick, putting her hands on his shoulders and pulling him close to her. He tried to shrug her off but stopped as soon as he felt her massive tits envelop his head like a pair of ear muffs. He froze completely, mouth agape, stunned by the feeling of the massive jugs on his shoulders. “Voilà, you can try out on real man!”
“W-what?” Nick stammered.
“A wonderful idea, Celéste! Go on, Mia, try to steal Nick’s peach, but this time, try to make a claw with your hand, it will let you grab hold of his scrotum more easily!”
“You can’t do this!” Nick yelled, grabbing his crotch. He didn’t move, however, not willing to leave Celèste’s embrace so soon.
Amy smiled devilishly. “You would deprive a woman of this opportunity to learn how to defend herself? You’re not a misogynist, are you, Nick?”
“But… what if she i-injures me?”
Amy’s smile grew wider. “You all signed waivers before this tour started, Nick.” She grabbed one of his arms, easily twisting it back. He swallowed hard. “I guess you should have read the fine print.”
“O-Ok, here I go,” Mia said nervously.
Before Nick could protest again, she swung her hand, clenched into a claw, into his groin from below. She felt around a bit, having trouble locating his small balls, but grasped them tight when she found them.
Nick’s eyes popped out and he froze. Mia pushed her tongue out between her lips in concentration. With a jerk, her hand twisted 90 degrees to the side, and she pulled.
With a high-pitched scream, Nick followed. She hadn’t pulled as hard as Celéste had, but as she drew her arm back towards her hips, she still easily pulled Nick out of the French girl’s embrace. He slammed to the ground and for a moment, she held up his entire lower body by his nuts. Stretched away from his body, Amy could see how small his balls really were, just about the size of a pair of glass marbles.
Startled, she let go of the balls in her hand and like a rubber band, they slammed back into his body and he dropped to the floor completely.
“Bravo, Mia!” Celéste yelled and clapped her hands together.
The nerdy girl stared at her palm in disbelief. “Wow, I just…” She turned to Amy. “That was a lot easier than I thought!”
“See, I knew you would like it! Well done!” Amy smiled, brushing a curl of blue hair out of her face. “Want to try some more? He’s in the perfect position to try those kicks from the beginning.”
Mia meekly nodded, then frowned. “But, his hands are…” She gestured towards Nicks hands protectively cupping his meager manhood.
“Celéste, if you would.” The girl didn’t think twice. She lifted his hands towards his head and pinned them under her legs as she sat on his face.
*I bet that’s the first time he’s ever been so close to a pussy. Or had a girl touch his wiener, for that matter.*
Mia stood, took aim and blasted her foot into Nick’s gonads. Years later, she would realize that this kick laid the foundation. It was her awakening as a ballbuster.
[Click here for the first part!](https://www.reddit.com/r/BallbustingStories/comments/16ukhny/the_museum_of_feminist_art/)
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“… making it such a brazen inversion of power dynamics and a bold challenge to the patriarchy,” Amy said. “The supposed monster has slain the man, not the human, but the man.” Her eyes left the tour group for a few seconds so she could take in the magnificent craftsmanship for herself one more time.
“Can I ask a question, Miss… uhm…”
“Please, call me Amy. We’re all like sisters here. What do you want to know?” She tried to be as friendly and reassuring to the shy girl as possible. Sure, Jen was tall and fit but Amy had already had fun with her the last time she took the tour. But this art student, Mia as she now knew, had a different sort of charm, the sort of bookworm vibes that made her want to push her down and have her way with the girl.
“Right, Amy. Why is…” Mia fidgeted, adjusting her large, round glasses. “… why is it so *small*?”
Amy blinked a few times and brushed a stray lock of blue hair behind an ear. “It… Oh! You mean the penis in Medusa’s hand!”
“Well, uhm, yes, that and the rest of his… package,” Mia said and blushed.
“Probably just to make fun of men, like everything in here,” the annoying guy in sunglasses said. As if wearing sunglasses indoors wasn’t douchey enough, he had a real loud mouth and always shared his unwelcome opinions. He was definitely a virgin, Amy could tell. And the longer this tour went, the surer Amy was he was the pathetic kind that blamed girls for not wanting to touch his pathetic, little, unwashed dick… probably.
“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to stop mansplaining the exhibits in the museum. And to inform you, the ancient Greeks on the contrary thought that large penises were brutish, something only barbarians and beasts had, while a modest penis was seen as cultured, civilized, even intelligent. A man with a tiny pecker was thought to be an upstanding citizen, interested in giving his all to the *polis* instead of a lust-driven beast that thought with its lower head.”
“There’s no way a woman came up with that,” Jen snickered, prompting a few giggles from the other women.
The woman who was visiting with her husband turned to her spouse and said, loud enough for all to hear, “Hear that, honey? Back then you would have been a model citizen, an honest to goodness paragon of virtue considering what you’re packing.”
A second of stunned silence followed, then the whole group erupted in laughter, while her blushing husband seemed to want to shrink in on himself.
When Amy got her own laughter under control, she continued. “We don’t know whether the women of ancient Greece agreed with this assessment of a man’s character, but in art it is deliberately used to indicate a man of reason and morality. The artist chose to keep the heroic figure of Perseus, just like Medusa is still depicted as the monster to draw our focus to the role reversal. Instead of Perseus cutting off Medusa’s head, she has cut off his manhood. It is telling us that, despite all its supposed heroics and civilized conduct, the true monster is the patriarchy. And just look at the detail! To carve all these wrinkles into the tiny space of a little scrotum like that, what handicraft.”
She watched the miniscule manhood Medusa pinched between two fingers a little longer, then clapped her hands.
“Alright, that does it for our Greek section. In the beginning, I mentioned that there are unifying themes to our sections. Can anyone guess what the theme is for this part?”
“I thought the theme *was* Greek artworks?” the woman who had just made fun of her husband’s baby dick. It was a shame she hadn’t taken her top off to let her tits out.
*Not yet, at least*, Amy thought. She had already sworn she would find a way to make Mia get her tits out before this tour was over, why not add the wife to her list as well.
“That is the manifest theme, yes, but we are hoping that visitors gain deeper insights into feminism and how it relates to their life through these artworks, so there is a bit more to it. Yes, Jen?”
The tall black woman stood on tiptoes, her arms crossed behind her back, which pushed the nice handful of titty she possessed out, emphasizing the erect, rosy tips. Wistfully, Amy remembered how much she had liked playing with them. “Is the theme how fun it is to take away a boy’s balls? I mean, all the women in the art seem to have a grand old time,” she said with a smile.
Amy giggled. “A very good guess and personally, I’m inclined to agree, but the real theme is liberation. Casting off both the physical and mental shackles of the patriarchy by destroying what is threatening to destroy you and your femininity.” She turned and slowly started walking towards the next hall. “Please don’t feel bad if you didn’t see that theme in the pieces here, or if you disagree and think Jen’s answer makes more sense… or is more enjoyable. There is no right or wrong here, ladies.”
The next wing seemed less like a museum and more like the showroom of an Ikea. Islands of ‘rooms’ with a wall or two removed to allow people to peer inside littered the wing. They were furnished in the style of different eras and haphazardly strewn around the open hall, daring visitors to chart their own course through the maze of rooms.
“Next up, I would like to show you the museum’s wing of contemporary art. On display here are artworks of different eras, starting from the 1950s. You are welcome to explore the hall however you see fit, though I still have to ask you to not touch the exhibits. But don’t worry, we will be heading to a hall with interactive exhibits after his one.”
When the group asked no questions, she pushed her arms up under her breasts to look at her watch. She knew it would inevitably draw attention to her bare chest. A *smack* and a groan from one of the boys here with their girlfriends told her she had been successful. “Let us meet up back here in 40 minutes. I will be walking between the exhibits to answer any questions you might have about the artworks.”
The tour group dispersed into smaller cliques of three to four people. Most people still headed to the ‘50s’ exhibits first, admiring the mosaic of a proud communist woman smashing the balls of a capitalist man with her sledgehammer. Most tour groups headed there first and Amy couldn’t blame them. Art from beyond the iron curtain was nothing if not bold and loud.
She answered a few of their questions, pointed them to the backside of that particular showroom where the museum had placed something of a companion piece to it, then looked around for any others of her little tour group. She spotted Mia, along with the blond bombshell that had her tits out and the pathetic virgin heading towards the ‘70s’ exhibit.
*Mia is super cute and I bet she has an adorable set of puppies under that sweater, but maybe I should hedge my bets.*
She walked up to the group and stopped right next to the blonde. “Hey, are you guys having fun? I want to make sure you’re all comfortable. I hope you’re not cold…?” Amy said and not so subtly glanced at the belle’s massive rack.
“Ah, oui, je suis… how you say? Très confortable,” the blonde said with a cute little bounce that made her tits jiggle.
*Oh God, she’s French. I’m going to soak through my panties.*
“Ah, I didn’t catch your name.”
“I am Céleste, enchanté,” she said and giggled.
“Hey girls, I’m Nick, by the way. Not to brag, but I drive a Mini,” the virgin said, wiggled his eyebrows and Amy could feel herself dry up faster than a spilled glass of water in the desert.
“Oh, is zat… comment se dit, ze size of your wang?”
Amy and Mia both snorted with laughter, while Céleste just looked wholly confused. Nick grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like ‘cunts’, but Amy was laughing too hard to hear it.
When they had themselves under control again, Mia demanded her attention again, and Amy was pleased to notice that the nerdy looking girl had trouble keeping her eyes off of Amy’s breasts.
“I was wondering, where actually is the artwork here? The plaque at the side just reads, *Enlightenment, Yoko Ono and an unnamed artist, 1972*. But the room just looks like a regular room from that era.”
“It’s good that you asked,” Amy said and stood behind her. She made sure to press her chest against her back. “Notice anything unusual about the room?”
Mia jumped when she felt Amy press herself against her but forced herself to study the room. “N-no? I see a wooden sofa, plastic chairs, a glass table… the wallpaper is somewhere between hippie and space age aesthetic but that doesn’t seem very notable.”
Amy gently grabbed Mia’s shoulders and rubbed them. “Remember the name of the piece?”
“Huh… Oh! It’s darker here than in the other showrooms.” Her eyes searched the room. “Is it the lava lamp?”
“Try it out, Mia.” She pushed her hands on the girl’s hips and pushed her forward. Her hands brushed against her butt entirely by accident.
Mia eyed the lamp curiously, then spotted a switch in the wall next to it. She flipped it and immediately, the room lit up in a sultry bright-red.
“Oh, it works. It’s just a lava lamp?”
“Are you sure about that?”
Celéste joined them, Nick lurking right behind the chesty French girl. “Ze lamp… Oh, non, non, non! Ce sont des couilles!” She laughed a bright, loud laugh, pointing at the lamp as her ample assets quaked.
“What did she say? … Wait, that doesn’t look like wax in there… Are those…?”
[“Yes,” Amy said.](https://imgur.com/a/HSBiJzB)
Mia gasped and slammed her hand in front of her mouth. “Are they… real? They’re so big…”
Amy shifted back to her tour guide voice. “Well, the artist has never given a list of what materials she has used but, remember the plaque?” Mia nodded. “Let’s just say, Mrs. Ono never said who her collaborator for this piece was. Maybe it was a reaction to those saying she broke up the Beatles? Maybe she took measures to make sure John would be easier to control… or maybe it has nothing to do with him. There were other men in her life, after all, and all of them could have been… unwilling donators for this piece.”
“What the hell, that’s obviously fake. That would be illegal, and no guy has balls that big anyway,” Nick said.
Amy rolled her eyes. She walked towards him, her arms crossed below her chest. He flinched when she got close, but she kept walking until she was face to face with him, her nipples poking his chest. He could taste her breath. Her thigh was slightly raised, positioned so that it came up between his legs, barely touching his thigh right below his crotch. She could see the bulge in his pants while his eyes were glued to her chest.
*Such a virgin.*
“Nick, do you like my breasts?”
“Wh-what?”
“My boobs, my tits, do you like them?”
He swallowed heavily. “Ye-yeah.”
“Even though Celéste’s are so much bigger than mine?”
“Yeah… I mean, I still like yours!”
Her lips pressed into a thin smile. “Then I suggest you keep such comments to yourself. After all, I like your balls,” she said and raised her leg more. Her thigh now pressed into his crotch and she could feel his little nuts flatten against her leg. “… even if they are much smaller than other guys’. Otherwise, I’m going to be forced to hurt them, really, really bad. You don’t want that, do you, Nick?”
“N-no,” he gasped. Her thigh moved back and forth, rolling his nuts around on her leg but also indirectly stroking his dick.
“Good boy.” *I give him until the end of this wing before he coughs up those grapes he has for balls.*
Amy turned back to the other two. “Come around the back, I think you’re going to like this next piece.”
The ‘room’ behind the lamp exhibit was bare except for a bunch of manuscript pages stuck to a wall, with some strange shapes protruding from the wall below them.
“Ze B.U.S.T manifesto…?” Celéste read out. “Qu’est-ce que c’est?”
Amy nodded. “Have you ever heard of Valerie Solanas?”
“Wasn’t she the one who attacked Andy Warhol?” Mia asked.
“She did. Miss Solanas was a feminist, some call her a radical, but I try to avoid such labels, who was well known for her S.C.U.M manifesto. But few know that, after her attack on Warhol, she wrote another book – the B.U.S.T. manifesto.”
“What does eet stand for?” Celéste asked with a charming lilt that made Amy want to pin her to the ground and rip her clothes off. What few she was still wearing, anyway.
“She never said. The curator of our museum, Miss Notts-Cutter often joked that it stood for, ahem, *bitchy, unapologetic, smashes testicles*, as Valerie’s ideal of a feminist, but I highly doubt that is what Valerie Solanas had in mind.”
She watched the giggling Celéste and blushing Mia read the first page of the manifesto. Nick hovered near them, unable to tear his eyes from Celéste and Amy’s tits but she could tell he was very uncomfortable. Amy wasn’t sure whether that was from the subject matter or because his little penis tried to poke a hole in his pants.
“They’re instructions for… kicking men?” Amy asked.
“Exactly right! It seems that Miss Solanas was unhappy with her sisters' fight against the patriarchy, so she sought to teach them how to do it properly. This first page instructs the reader how to properly target the testicles when a man is sitting on the ground or lying down. It is not included in the pages of the manifesto we have on display here, but she explains that she starts the book this way because she believes that is a man’s natural position, below a woman, ready to receive his punishment.”
“Ooh! Is zat for trying out kicks?” Celéste asked and pointed to a rubber scrotum protruding from the wall at roughly ankle height.
“Yes, we wanted to encourage visitors to try out the techniques in the book. Please feel free to try out the provided dummies, they are exceptionally durable and-”
*POP*
Amy jumped, looking for the source of the sudden loud bang. Mia and Nick were equally shocked as she was, so they most likely weren’t the source. Then her eyes fell on Celéste. Her shoe – simple white chucks – was drawing back from the fake testicles. The right rubber gonad had exploded, ripping a hole in the faux scrotum, spilling its rubbery insides onto the floor of the exhibit.
“That’s- I’ve never seen anyone-”
“Oh non! I broke it?”
“Wow,” Mia breathed beside her and Amy was inclined to agree.
“Don’t worry, that’s… fine. I will instruct staff to replace that dummy. For now, why don’t we take a look at the other instructions.” *Well, I’m definitely soaked now. God, what a woman.*
The group of three women moved towards the rest of the instructions. There were more guides on kicking in different scenarios, how to knee a pair, instructions on how to repeatedly punch a sack so that it behaved like a speedbag, how to bust balls with common household items, and finally, the crowning piece of the book.
“*Monkey steals the peach*?” Mia doubtfully eyed the worn and tattered rubber nutsack dangling in front of her.
“Yes! It’s a very effective technique that is taught in the more serious self-defense courses to this day. Even if you have never heard of it, it has become something of a mantra for women everywhere: ‘grab, twist and pull’. That’s essentially what the ‘monkey steals the peach’ technique is. Of course, most self-defense instructors emphasize that it should only be used in an emergency since it has a high chance of ripping the testicular cords, effectively castrating its target. But Valerie Solanas being who she is, she argues that it should be mandatory knowledge for all women and used at the slightest provocation.”
“How interesting,” Celéste commented.
“Would you like to try it out, Mia?”
The brunette looked unsure, but under Amy’s and Celéste’s intense stares nodded. She gently grasped the rubber nuts, slowly twisted her wrist, and then gave it a gentle pull.
“Non, non, regarde-moi!” Celéste said and roughly grabbed the scrotum. She twisted her hand as far as it would turn, then yanked on them with all her might.
Amy saw it coming, but she was unable to stop the eager French girl. With a *snap*, the balls came free. “Ah, non, not again!”
Amy sighed. “It’s fine, this particular exhibit tends to break down like this once in a while. A lot of our visitors are very motivated to try out the techniques in this book and ‘monkey steals the peach’ is the most popular technique. We try to nurture such passion, so this is expected. Well then, how did it feel, Mia? Did you like?”
“I don’t know, I’ve never done this before…” the mousy girl said. “It feels like there is something lacking?”
“True, if you were to perform these techniques on a man, you would no doubt get a reaction even if you only lightly pulled on the gonads like you did.”
“Ah!” Celéste said. She stuffed the rubber nuts into a pocket in her skirt, apparently wanting to keep them as a souvenir. Then she walked behind Nick, putting her hands on his shoulders and pulling him close to her. He tried to shrug her off but stopped as soon as he felt her massive tits envelop his head like a pair of ear muffs. He froze completely, mouth agape, stunned by the feeling of the massive jugs on his shoulders. “Voilà, you can try out on real man!”
“W-what?” Nick stammered.
“A wonderful idea, Celéste! Go on, Mia, try to steal Nick’s peach, but this time, try to make a claw with your hand, it will let you grab hold of his scrotum more easily!”
“You can’t do this!” Nick yelled, grabbing his crotch. He didn’t move, however, not willing to leave Celèste’s embrace so soon.
Amy smiled devilishly. “You would deprive a woman of this opportunity to learn how to defend herself? You’re not a misogynist, are you, Nick?”
“But… what if she i-injures me?”
Amy’s smile grew wider. “You all signed waivers before this tour started, Nick.” She grabbed one of his arms, easily twisting it back. He swallowed hard. “I guess you should have read the fine print.”
“O-Ok, here I go,” Mia said nervously.
Before Nick could protest again, she swung her hand, clenched into a claw, into his groin from below. She felt around a bit, having trouble locating his small balls, but grasped them tight when she found them.
Nick’s eyes popped out and he froze. Mia pushed her tongue out between her lips in concentration. With a jerk, her hand twisted 90 degrees to the side, and she pulled.
With a high-pitched scream, Nick followed. She hadn’t pulled as hard as Celéste had, but as she drew her arm back towards her hips, she still easily pulled Nick out of the French girl’s embrace. He slammed to the ground and for a moment, she held up his entire lower body by his nuts. Stretched away from his body, Amy could see how small his balls really were, just about the size of a pair of glass marbles.
Startled, she let go of the balls in her hand and like a rubber band, they slammed back into his body and he dropped to the floor completely.
“Bravo, Mia!” Celéste yelled and clapped her hands together.
The nerdy girl stared at her palm in disbelief. “Wow, I just…” She turned to Amy. “That was a lot easier than I thought!”
“See, I knew you would like it! Well done!” Amy smiled, brushing a curl of blue hair out of her face. “Want to try some more? He’s in the perfect position to try those kicks from the beginning.”
Mia meekly nodded, then frowned. “But, his hands are…” She gestured towards Nicks hands protectively cupping his meager manhood.
“Celéste, if you would.” The girl didn’t think twice. She lifted his hands towards his head and pinned them under her legs as she sat on his face.
*I bet that’s the first time he’s ever been so close to a pussy. Or had a girl touch his wiener, for that matter.*
Mia stood, took aim and blasted her foot into Nick’s gonads. Years later, she would realize that this kick laid the foundation. It was her awakening as a ballbuster.
