My Poor Balls: Saturday, The Auction (Ballbusting, Humiliation)

**Disclaimer**: These stories are a work of fiction. None of the events depicted have occurred as they are depicted. My wife and I do have a relationship that sometimes incorporates some ballbusting, but these stories are fantasy.

# Chapter 27: Saturday, The Auction (Ballbusting, Humiliation)

I walked through the door at the agreed upon time slightly before noon, stripped from the waist down, and went straight to the dining room table. My wife was already waiting. She didn’t say a word at first. She just held up a piece of rope with a noose tied in one end. 

I walked to her, and she looped to the noose around my poor balls, and then grabbed another for my wrists.  I turned around to let her bind me.  

She then led me by the ball rope and pulled me forward drawing my balls across the polished wood table, stretching them out in front of me like goods on display. The rope was anchored taut to the far side of the table so my vulnerable testicles projected prominently, completely exposed, unable to pull back even an inch. She tied my penis up tight against my torso with a separate cord so it stayed completely out of the way.

She stepped back, looked at her handiwork, and smiled.

She makes an effort to effect a genteel southern accent, and says: “Tonight the balls are going up for auction—separate lots when it suits me. You will bid on every single lot yourself… and you will show proper respect for the quality of the merchandise.” She paused, then added with a little sigh, “These balls are poorly trained, but they still have potential.”

Lot 1 – Left Ball Only

“Opening lot: ten firm punches to the left ball. A well-trained set of man-balls would start at forty. Starting bid?”

Forty is so many.  I can’t do forty, but I don’t want to do the medium, because I want her to be happy. “Twenty.” I blurt out.

She raised an eyebrow. “Twenty? These poorly trained troublemakers barely deserve fifteen… but since you’re being generous, let’s make it twenty-five.”

“Thirty,” I said quickly.

“Oh?”  She looks at me judgementally.  “It is your money, I guess.”  Then she closed her fist, and stepped up to the edge of the table, sizing up her targets.  

The first hit was brutal.  My left ball was still recovering from last nights needles, and the punch unleashed some leftover burning and aching from the tabasco sauce.  

“One” I called out.

Another punch, no less brutal.  “Two”

Punch. “Three”.  Punch “Four”.  Punch “Five”.

By twenty, she paused to appraise me.  I was sweating, my ball was swelling.  I was struggling to stand.  

“I think someone overbid a bit” she said mockingly. 

Punch.  The air left my lungs, and when I said “Twenty-one” it was a breathless whisper.  

Thud.  “Twenty-two”.  Thwak.  “Twenty-three”.  Meaty thud.  “Twenty-four”.  

…

The final punch probably made a sound, but I was overwhelmed by the pain, and the twisting in my stomach  “Thirty.” I called out.

She looked at her cruel fist, and appraise my swell left testicle.  She seemed pleased with the damage inflicted.  

“Well this auction got off to a surprisingly positive start, I hope the bidders are as generous in future rounds.” She says mockingly. 

Lot 2 – Right Ball Only

“Next lot: fifteen firm punches to the right ball. A well-trained set of man-balls would start at forty. Starting bid?”

I was still trying to impress her. “Twenty.”

She scoffed. “Twenty? These rebellious little things are nowhere near that level, but if you insist, how about twenty-five?”

“N…”  I start trying to disagree, but then realize it isn’t really up to me.  She decides when I hurt and how badly.  “twenty-five,” I agree.

“Alright then, let’s get you your purchases.” she says as she prepares her fist to rain down pain.  

Thunk.  A thud smashes into my right nut.  The right nut takes a majority of the force, but the sore left nut is also impacted indirectly, and given how much more abuse it took last night, and so far it hurts far worse.  “On…One” I stammer out.

Twap. “T…Two”.   Thud.  “Threeee”.  Thud. “[ff..ff](http://ff..ff)..four”.  

It isn’t until we hit twenty that the blows, which are mostly directed at my right testicle start causing more pain there, then in my mangled left nut.  

“Twenty”.  My voice is firmer.  I’ve passed through the panic, and arrived at acceptance.  

Thwack.  Air is forced from my lungs, “Twenty one.” I whisper.  Thunk.  “twenty -two”.   Punch “twenty-three”.  Meaty slap.  “Twenty-four”.  Thud. “Twenty-five.”

I’m light headed, struggling to process the pain.    

“I’ve really appreciate the respect you’ve shown my fine establishment.  I think you can see that while my wares might not look that impressive, they look much better once they’ve been put to work.”

Lot 3 – Right Ball Only

“Next lot: ten bonger strikes to the right ball. A well-trained set of man-balls would start at one hundred. Starting bid?”

The pain was already settling in deep. My right ball is throbbing with my heart beat.  The pain is so severe. I bid lower. “Ten.”

She sounded almost offended. “Ten? After the show these balls have already put on? I think sir, you do me an insult. Twenty.”

“Twenty,” I gasped.

“Well I hate to let them go at this price, but I accept your bargain.”  She walks up to the table, lifts the bonger, and holds it in front of my face.  With a huge grin, she says “Are you ready?”

I’m not, my right ball is swollen, and pulsing.  It just got done being abused.  I don’t know how I’m going to get through it, but I love her so much, so I nod silently.

She makes a production, swinging the bonger in a huge arc, but doesn’t hit with as much force as she could have.  I squirm as it is coming in fear for my precious orbs, but the rope prevents me from dodging, and the right ball absorbs more force and pain.  I take a deep breath and say “One.”  Twap.  “Two.”  Twap. “Three.”  Twap. “Four.”

Twap.  The blow lands, my ball is brutally compressed.  I’m out of my body.  Survival mode.  I say nothing.  There is a brutal sounds of rubber meeting ball meat.  Then angry, my wife shoves me to gain my attention. 

“I need you here with me.  I can’t have you bailing on our quality time.  That is why we count, so that we can always make sure we are both present when we have our fun.”

“Ss.sss.sss..sorry.” I apologize.  Pleading for mercy, and understanding, but also hating that I showed this sort of weakness.

“That was 18, just 2 more.  Count it.”

“Eighteen” I say, and as the word leaves my mouth, my right testicle is obliterated by my wife’s loving swing.  

It takes me several deep breaths to master myself long enough to weakly say, “Nineteen”.  Only for another round of agony to explode in my right nut immediately from my wife’s ministrations, un-deterred by my suffering.  

She says a few words appraising the success of my bid, but I’m not hearing them.  They are drowned out by the white noise of overwhelming testicle pain.  

Lot 4 – Left Ball Only

“Next lot: ten bonger strikes to the left ball. A well-trained set of man-balls would start at one hundred. Starting bid?”

I said what I had to. “Ten.”

She feigned extreme disappointment. “Ten? Are you only 10% of a real man?  Surely we can do better.”

“better?” I ask.  Words and concepts coming hard because of the abuse of my sensitive testicles.

“Yeah, lefty has had it easy.  The last 2 rounds have focused entirely on righty.” my wife chides.  

That isn’t quite right.  My balls are bound into a tight package, and even though she is trying to singularly target one, the pain is distributed.  Also, my left ball received 7 needles last night, 5 of which were soaked in tabasco sauce, and it is far from recovered from that penetration.  

I consider my options.  My brain working very slowly.  Eventually I accept my fate.  “Twenty” I say.

“You drive a hard bargain, sir.  My kids may go hungry because of your miserly nature.  But these pathetic balls will bring me nothing without a buyer, so I accept you meager offer”

She steps forwards, and hold the bonger in front of my eyes, and then says.  “At the very least, I would like to hear you thank me for my generosity, before you take delivery.”

She is right, it is so generous to me that she constantly shows love in the form of brutal genital abuse.  Even when my stupid balls are too fragile or weak to handle it, she never gives up on me, and always pushes me to be better.  

“Yes, thank you so much.” I say earnestly.  “I don’t deserve someone as kind as you.”

“You are right you don’t.” She says, and that is punctuated the a meaty slap as the bonger collides with my most sensitive parts.  

“One” I say obediently.  Twap.  “Two”.   Thunk.  Both balls explode.  White noise. An empty world that has nothing but pain.  Pain and duty.  “Three”.   More pain.  “Four”.  The shape of the pain has changed.  Instead of hits, it is waves, but at the crest of every wave I dutifully count.  “Five”  “Six”  “Seven”..... “Eighteen” “Nineteen”  “Twenty”.  

“Hoo-eee! What a showing.  I did not expect the balls to be able to deliver such quality.  You sir have made a shrewd purchase indeed.  Are you ready for the last round of bidding?”

Last round.  I have no idea how much time has passed.  The brutality in my organs is extreme, and the waves continue even though the hits don’t. Last round.  We are nearly done.  Neary to the end.  I nod my acceptance.

Lot 5 – Both Balls

“Final lot: mallet blows to both balls. A well-trained set of man-balls would start at twenty. Starting bid?”

I was trembling. The mallet is the most brutal of the instruments she uses on my testicles.  Even one is probably too much for the states my sensitive testicles are in.  She led with twenty, she will never allow me to say one.  I shake at the fear, and say “Two.”

She pushed: “Only two? One tenth of a real man? What’s the matter, my little baby? Don’t have what it takes?”

“Three”  I grit my teeth and offer.  

“These poorly trained troublemakers may be a disappointment, but they do bruise so pretty.  How about Eight?”

“Eight?” I pleade.  “Please, please….”  I start crying, begging.  Eight is too much.  “Please!  I can’t do eight.”

“I can tell you are a motivated buyer, but unfortunately, I can’t let these balls go for anything less than four.”  She negotiates.

“Four!”  I beg.  Four is too much but it’s less than eight.

“Not if you ask that way.”  She leans into her fake southern accent.  “Ask me real sweat like if you want me to settle for four.”

“Ma’am…” I try a southern accent of myself, but my emotional turmoil causes me to lose it immediately.  I take a deep breath, and try to slow down, and look her in the eyes as I continue.  “May I please have 4 painful mallet hits to these naughty balls?”

“Oh, are you sweet?  And well behaved!  Yes.  Sold for 4 painful mallet hits.  Are you prepared to take delivery?”

She lifts the mallet in front of my face.  It’s so scary.  It’s so brutal.  

My wife’s eyes drop, “Oh, look who is excited for the mallet.”  She giggles sadistically.  

I glance down and my penis is erect, and fighting against the cord that binds it to my torso.  The battle is pointless, all it can do is push an inch or so away from my belly.  It would be very uncomfortable if I wasn’t overcome by testicle pain.

As I’m investigating her interest, I see the mallet pass by, and intersect with my bound testicles.  I tense every muscle, the pain arrives a moment after I watch my balls compress and spill out to all sides of the mallet.  It is not a wave.  More like a curtain that obscures anything else.  My eyes tear up.  I lose all the air from my lungs, and it takes a few minutes to gain enough breath to croak out “One.”

As soon as the count is out the mallet descends again.  Powerful kinetic force tries to reach the table, but is blocked and absorbed by my abused nut sack.  I struggle fruitlessly against my bonds.  I try to retch, but nothing comes up.  

After 3 staggered breaths, I say “tw..” 

The mallet arrives before I complete the word.  The wounds left by yesterday’s needles create new angles and vectors for painful sensations.  It isn’t possible to handle this much agony.  My brain shuts down, but I don’t lose consciousness, but every part of time and place departs.  I feel pain.  It is no longer targeted.  Pain.  I inhabit the pain.  I live the pain.  A lifetime in pain.  

When I return to my body, I see that my wife has her hand down her pants, and is rubbing her vagina.  Enjoying the suffering that I am displaying for her.  

“Three” I struggle to say.  

She rubs for a second more, and then swing the mallet down.  It isn’t a perfect swing.  It mainly impacts my right testicle and bounces off to the right.  

Not perfect, doesn’t mean not painful though.  It hurts, every part of me shakes, trying to reconcile my testicle trauma with a living body.  I inhabit the pain.  

When my eyes can open, my vision blurred and red through the pain, I see my wife’s form aggressively masterbating.  Her head is tilted a bit back, and she is pushing into the table.

She catches my eye, and looking deeply into my soul, she says, “I’m almost there.  One more.  Please let me do just one more.”  

I close my eyes, then accept my fate, and meet her gaze once more and nod.  

Excitedly, she grins and then rapidly brings down the mallet again on my abused orbs.  They compress beyond tolerance.  They convert kinetic energy into pain, and then I lose myself.  I try to fall backwards, but my bound state doesn’t allow that, so after a pull that I don’t really feel, I fall forward instead.  

My wife sets one hand on me, while she finishes her orgasm with her other hand.  She grips my back as she shutters through it.  

Once she is done, she takes her pussy juice covered fingers, and force them into my mouth, and then says: “Sold to me. For life.”

* [Chapter 1 and 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/BallBusting/comments/cwek6v/a_week_in_the_life_chapter_1_and_2_story/) (Kicking and electrical play)
* [Chapter 3](https://www.reddit.com/r/BallBusting/comments/cxs5tc/a_week_in_the_life_chapter_3_story/) (Kicking and licking)
* [Chapter 4 and 5](https://www.reddit.com/r/BallBusting/comments/czuziy/a_week_in_the_life_chapter_4_and_5_story/) (Kicking and crushing in a vice)
* [Chapter 6](https://www.reddit.com/r/BallBusting/comments/d3yrq6/a_week_in_the_life_chapter_6_story/) (Hammering and sex)
* [Chapter 7](https://www.reddit.com/r/BallBusting/comments/do0w3p/a_week_in_the_life_chapter_7_story/) (Execution style weight play and licking)
* [Chapter 8](https://www.reddit.com/r/BallBusting/comments/epvzsf/a_week_in_the_life_chapter_8_story/) (Caning in stocks)
* [Chapter 9](https://www.reddit.com/r/BallBusting/comments/fevozj/a_week_in_the_life_chapter_9_story/) (Kicking)
* [Chapter 10](https://www.reddit.com/r/BallBusting/comments/gj9e9a/a_week_in_the_life_chapter_10_story/) (Crushing)
* [Chapter 11](https://www.reddit.com/r/BallBusting/comments/gl3r25/a_week_in_the_life_chapter_11_story/) (Kicking)
* [Chapter 12](https://www.reddit.com/r/BallBusting/comments/pdaix2/a_week_in_the_life_chapter_12_story/) (Hammering)
* [Chapter 13](https://www.reddit.com/r/BallBusting/comments/q3r6cp/a_week_in_the_life_chapter_13_story/) (Cattle Prod)
* [Chapter 14](https://www.reddit.com/r/BallbustingStories/comments/y8wo2s/my_poor_ball_chapter_14_training_resumes_kicking/) (Kicking)
* [Chapter 15](https://www.reddit.com/r/BallbustingStories/comments/ybh9ds/my_poor_balls_chapter_15_the_hike_leashed_pulling/) (Leashed pulling, Kicking)
* [Chapter 16](https://www.reddit.com/r/BallbustingStories/comments/103xmhp/my_poor_balls_chapter_16_setting_up_camp_kicking/) (Kicking, Shocking)
* [Chapter 17](https://www.reddit.com/r/BallbustingStories/comments/104ljcm/my_poor_balls_chapter_17_picking_my_own_switch/) (Kicking, Caning)
* [Chapter 18](https://www.reddit.com/r/BallbustingStories/comments/10bptiz/my_poor_balls_chapter_18_weenie_roast_cock_burning/) (Cock Burning)
* [Chapter 19](https://www.reddit.com/r/BallbustingStories/comments/1aw4119/my_poor_balls_chapter_19_good_night_beating_caning/) (Caning)
* [Chapter 20](https://www.reddit.com/r/BallbustingStories/comments/1aw4c0j/my_poor_balls_chapter_20_wake_up_and_smell_the/) (Caning, Kicking, Taser)
* [Chapter 21](https://www.reddit.com/r/BallbustingStories/comments/1sbt29n/my_poor_balls_chapter_21_sunday_the_long_painful/) (Cock Torture, Ball Kicks)
* [Chapter 22](https://www.reddit.com/r/BallbustingStories/comments/1si173p/my_poor_balls_monday_time_with_my_crush_testicle/) (Testicle Vice)
* [Chapter 23](https://www.reddit.com/r/BallbustingStories/comments/1sjtv8h/my_poor_balls_tuesday_the_commute_penalty_kicking/) (Kicking)
* [Chapter 24](https://www.reddit.com/r/BallbustingStories/comments/1sojypp/my_poor_balls_wednesday_the_mirror_game_kicking/) (Kicking)
* [Chapter 25](https://www.reddit.com/r/BallbustingStories/comments/1suzpbi/my_poor_balls_thursday_the_gratitude_check/) (Punching, Cattle Prod)
* [Chapter 26](https://www.reddit.com/r/BallbustingStories/comments/1svqbmf/my_poor_balls_friday_the_ballcrusher_debate/) (Needles)

**Author's Note:** I love feedback, and would appreciate hearing your thoughts, and suggestions.