How I like my ballbusting sessions

I like my boys' balls tied nice and tight. A rope between the nuts, looped around the base of the scrotum, and tightened enough that the skin gets smooth and shiny. They're as bouncy as ping-pong balls when I flick them to get a response.

My victims might resist if they could, but I always tie them up first: bent over the spanking bench, arms and legs tied, ass cheeks open so I can see that puckered hole. Some of them think that vulnerability, the exposure of their supposedly secret entrance, will be the most difficult part of the session.

It's not until their balls are tied and I give them that first tiny flick, and their bodies heave up in a failed attempt to escape, that they realize their pathetic asshole is the least of their worries. They realize they're in for just what they requested - a ball beating, a real one, one that makes them scream and twitch and beg me to stop, and I don't. I keep going.

I always tie the long end of the rope to the sides of the bench, up around their head, to pull their balls up against their taint, cock pointing uselessly down to the ground. Between their cheeks the rope goes, snuggled up right against the anus. They've forgotten the embarrassment by now, but the friction of the rope makes them clench. Each strike will make them clench anew, tender flesh gripping nylon.

And then it begins. Flicks with the back of a nail. Slaps from above and below. A little tug to make sure the nuts are securely fastened in place. If the guy moves too much, he'll tug them even tighter. Most of them end up prostrated like a whore, hips spread wide to expose that uncontrollably winking eye, feet taut to withstand the discomfort. At first, each strike makes them tense and roar like a beast. Later, when their balls are tenderized and their mind is fully broken, each swat makes them whimper and plead as if they hope someone will hear and save them.

They always think they're done at some point far too early. I pause to let them stew in the agony or step away to find a new toy and they think it's done. But they shouldn't worry - they asked for this, and I won't stop until they've gotten their due.

Will a few rubber band snaps be the end? A few slaps with the paddle? A few pinches, a few prods? A few swats from the switch?

Whenever it ends, whenever they've had enough, they know they'll be spent. They know their face will be damp and their body limp. They know that their balls will feel like they've been put through a meat grinder, and they'll look like it, too - all purpley red and angry. They know I'll untie them and, after one final goodbye pat, I'll set their swollen and aching balls free.

And then they'll thank me for giving them exactly what they needed...and deserved.