I never want to stop kicking my brothers nuts!

Okay, here's another one from back when this was still sort of a "thing" that happened every once in a while. I'd just gotten home from tennis practice, still in my skirt and hoodie, racket bag slung over my shoulder, legs feeling that good kind of tired from running drills. The house was quiet. Mom wasn't back from her shift yet. I walked into the kitchen to grab a Gatorade, and there was Jake, right in front of the open fridge door like he always ends up. Bent over digging around in the bottom drawer, those thin gray shorts hanging loose.


I waited a second, then tried to lean past him to reach the shelf on the door. My arm brushed his side, barely.

He straightened up quick, elbow jabbing me hard in the ribs as he turned, not even pretending it was an accident. It actually hurt, a sharp little spike that made me suck in a breath.

"Hey, can you give me a sec? I'm looking for something." He chirped.


"You're blocking the whole fridge. I've been standing here." I hissed back at him as I rubbed my side, already feeling the bruise coming.


He glanced back at me, still holding the door wide open.

"I'm literally two seconds from finding the yogurt. Chill."



"You've been 'two seconds' for like a minute. Just move for a second so I can grab a drink." I sighed, crossing my arms.

He pulled the last strawberry yogurt out finally, shut the door with his hip, and peeled the foil top with his teeth while leaning back against the counter. Legs apart again, casual, like the kitchen was his.

"There. Happy? It's all yours now."

I opened the door myself, grabbed a Gatorade.

"You could've just stepped aside instead of making it a whole thing... and elbowing me."



"Didn't feel like it. Sue me." He rolled his eyes as he took a spoonful and shrugged.

Then, as he stepped past me to head toward the table, he bumped into me again... elbow leading the way, digging right into the same sore spot on my ribs. He didn't even pause or apologize, just kept walking like I wasn't there.

That second jab shifted something in me. Not just anger, though there was a flash of that. More like this sudden, bright joy bubbling up. After almost a year of these moments, I'd started to *really* come around to it... loving the way it felt to take that swing, to feel the give and crush under my leg.

Anytime he handed me an excuse like this... petty, careless, leaving himself wide open... my irritation flipped straight into this weird, giddy anticipation. Because now I had a perfect reason to do it...

To kick my own brother right in his testicles as hard as I could.

The forbidden thrill of it, the rush of knowing I was about to watch him drop and hear that whine... it made my heart race in the best way. I wasn't mad anymore. I was excited. It was evil, I know. But I just LOVED the rush I got from hitting him... there, in his poor, defenseless, sensitive NUTS!

I waited till he turned half-away to set the yogurt down, back to me a little, weight shifted so his posture was perfect.

No wind-up. I planted my left foot, twisted my hips, and kicked straight up as hard as I could... full force, no hesitation, like I was trying to send something flying. My shin smashed into the underside of his sack with a loud, wet crack that rang off the cabinets.

Instant soft heat... his scrotum parting around the sharp ridge of my shin like warm dough. Then the real crush: both testicles flattened wide and thin against the hard bone, squishing outward and upward with zero escape, pancaking brutally as my leg drove through, compressing them flat against his pubic bone in that split-second peak of pressure. Everything deformed under the force, trapped and smashed, before my shin finished its arc and pulled away. His nuts rebounded into their sack with a sick little snap, already swelling fast.

He let out this high, almost girlish yelp...

"Eeeeh!"

...that choked off into a strangled gasp. Eyes huge, mouth gaping in pure shock. The yogurt cup slipped from his fingers, splattered pink across the tile. His knees buckled like someone cut the strings. He staggered back half a step, hands flying down to cup everything, and collapsed straight backward... ass hitting the floor hard, then shoulders, then head thumping softly against the cabinet door. He curled into a tight ball on his side right away, knees jerking up to his chest, legs kicking out in these short, frantic little spasms like he was trying to shake the pain off or run from it while stuck on the floor.

"Oh god... not my nuts... not my nuts again... oh god..."

His voice cracked high and trembling, tears already welling up fast, spilling over as he rocked and whimpered, hands clamped so tight between his legs his knuckles bleached white. His legs kept twitching and kicking in helpless little jerks, heels scraping the tile, like he couldn't stand still through the agony.

I stood there a second, buzzing from the solid hit, that hot rush flooding my chest. Watching him writhe... big brother kicking his legs like a kid, crying "not my nuts again"... it was powerful. Satisfying in this quiet, dark way.l

"Aww, did I hit your nuts?" I cood at him, teasing him as I tried to hide my own ecstasy.

He looked up through blurry, wet eyes, face blotchy red, tears streaking.

"Sarah... why'd you... oh god, my balls... not again... my balls are killing me... I can't even think..."

I crouched down beside him, close enough to hear the shaky little sobs he was swallowing.

"Heh, your balls hurt that bad already? Poor things. I really smashed them good this time, huh?"

He made this pitiful whining sound, legs still twitching every few seconds.

"My balls... oh god, my balls... you didn't have to... kick so hard... why do you always go for them... fuck, it hurts everywhere..."



"Yeah, I can tell. You're almost crying and everything! Kicking your legs like that... it's kinda cute how much it hurts you. And I went for *them* because you elbowed me twice. Its only fair that i crush your nutsack!" I smiled a little, keeping my voice light and teasing.



"You're... fucked up... that was way too hard... my nuts are throbbing... I think you broke something... oh god, my balls..."

I stood up slow, stretching like nothing happened.

"Dont be such a drama queen, theyre fiiiine! Clean up that yogurt mess before Mom gets home. If she sees it and gets mad at me for it... I'm just gonna kick your nuts even harder next time."

Inside my head, though, the real thought was spinning: I know I really shouldn't do this. It's one of the few things that's actually forbidden... taboo, not allowed, the kind of line you're never supposed to cross with your own brother. And knowing that? Knowing it's off-limits and wrong and I still chose to drive my shin straight into his nuts as hard as I could... that just makes me want to do it even more. Every time.


I fucking *LOVED* kicking my brothers nuts!


I stepped around his curled-up body, grabbed my Gatorade, and walked out. Behind me he kept whimpering softly to himself...

"Ooooh... my balls..."

...legs giving those little kicks every so often as he tried to breathe through it.

That's where it ended that day. Just me walking away, him on the floor still crying and clutching. The buzz stayed with me the rest of the afternoon....