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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 34: Thursday: Taking the Balls for a Walk (Leashed pulling, Kicking, Punching) My wife kept to her promise: no welcome-home testicle kicking. It made me sad.
During dinner she noticed my melancholy, and with a moment of inspiration she said, “I’ve got a task for the balls after we finish eating, but don’t worry, eat up first.”
It was like sunshine breaking through a storm. I was going to get a chance to please her tonight. I was so happy. My mood lightened, and I did my best to eat despite the throbbing of my testicles.
After dinner I cleaned up the dishes, and she went off to the basement. Once the dishes were done, I followed her.
My wife was already waiting at the bottom of the stairs in her yoga pants and tank top, long dark hair pulled into a messy bun, that soft, curvy 5’5” frame of hers looking perfect even after a long day at the office. Her heavy breasts pressed against the thin fabric, the abundant, fleshy breast meat I worshipped faintly visible through it, with that natural sag I adored. She folded her arms and gave me the smile that always made my stomach tighten.
“I’ve been helping you lose weight, you know,” she said, voice light and playful. “Every night before dinner I make sure those balls get a good workout, and so you can barely eat. I think you’ve lost ten pounds this month, and that is thanks to me.”
Yeah, I thought, thanks to you. Thanks to the way my nuts end up as throbbing, swollen messes that make me nauseous every night at dinner. But she was perfect, and this was her love, so I nodded. “You’re right. You’ve been so helpful.”
She grinned, sweet and dangerous. “Doctor said I need an hour of cardio three days a week. Suggested ankle weights.” She lifted a pair of sandbags. “But honestly? That might make my ankles sweat. Gross. Totally unfair to me.” She paused, then her eyes sparkled with that mischievous glint I knew too well. “Better idea: you. I’ll tie a rope around my waist, other end on your balls. You keep steady resistance the whole time—make me work for it. No sweat on me, just on those pathetic balls. They owe me anyway.”
I didn’t argue. She handed me the leather collar, and I looped it, then tightened it around my sack. The collar dug in, bunching the skin and forcing my already tender testicles to bulge out past the loop like hard-boiled eggs. She knotted the leash firmly to her own belt, then bound my wrists behind my back with a zip tie, and finally clipped the leash to the collar on my nuts. I fought the instinct to fear the pain. She was giving me a chance to help her, and I owed her my best.
She set the timer on her phone: sixty minutes. It beeped. She started walking—slow, deliberate circles around the ping-pong table. I followed, keeping the rope taut by trying to hold back, making her work for it. The stretch was immediate: deep, steady pressure pulling my balls forward, skin drawn tight, veins standing out, a dull ache already building in the core of each nut. I watched her thick thighs and curvy ass framed by her yoga pants as she walked. I admired every movement I could see in my perfect wife’s perfect backside. This is for her. Every tug, every ache is helping her. I can do this.
The first lap was almost manageable. On the second she suddenly sped up. I hustled to match her, but the rope yanked harder than I expected and my shoulder clipped her.
She spun around, face flushing with feigned outrage. “That was rude. Disrespectful. Kneel.”
I dropped instantly. She lined up, bare foot flexing.
Her toe hooked under my left ball and smashed it flat against my pelvis. The nut compressed, then rebounded heavy and swollen, sending a deep, nauseating ache radiating up into my gut. I knew she wasn’t using full force, but the swelling in my balls was still severe, so the pain hit brutally despite her mercy. “One,” I gasped, voice already cracking.
She didn’t pause. Her instep drove into my right ball next, flattening it hard against bone, the dull throb exploding outward until my stomach cramped. “Two.”
She kicked again and caught the left nut, slower this time, grinding side to side so the ache bloomed deeper, lingering, making my thighs quiver. “Three.”
The next kick landed on the right ball, toe digging into the underside, twisting just enough to roll the nut flat and send fresh waves of dull, heavy pain rolling through me. “Four.”
Her final kick hit both at once, full swing—my balls crushed together, meat spilling out around her foot, the ache so thick and nauseating I could barely breathe. “Five,” I whispered, legs shaking, tears hot on my cheeks. I fought the urge to curl up, to protect them. They didn’t deserve mercy.
She stopped, hands on her hips, looking down at my trembling form with that familiar mix of mock disappointment and pride. “Five already and these rebellious little things are already turning such a pretty shade for me. Good effort, honey, but your wife still needs her full cardio. Up—we’re not done.”
I struggled to my feet, still trembling, and she yanked the rope before I could steady myself. The stretch pulled my sack forward again, the dull throb from the kicks settling in deeper. She called them pretty. She’s happy. Keep going.
Three laps later I was too terrified of getting jerked again and bumping her again, so I tried to stay close. The rope sagged—just a little.
She stopped dead. “Slack? You don’t even care about helping me lose weight?” She sounded genuinely disappointed, but I caught the sparkle in her eye as she tugged the leash hard. My balls were already swelling more, turning a deeper shade of purple, the skin tight and cold to the touch after all the stretching.
Her fist wrapped around the leash and pulled my sack forward like a target. The first punch slammed into my left nut—knuckles driving deep, compressing the meat and sending a heavy, aching throb straight into my core. “One,” I stammered, breath short.
The next punch hit my right ball, a quick jab that made the nut compress sideways, the dull ache spreading until my stomach rolled. “Two.”
Then her fist collided with my left nut again, her fingers curling in, grinding slow so the pain lingered, radiating, making my knees tremble. “Three.”
Another painful collision with my right orb, slow rolling pressure that flattened the ball and left the ache blooming hot and deep. “Four.”
Finally a savage punch that hit both at once, full crush—her fingers dug in, twisting like she was wringing them out, the nauseating pressure so intense my vision blurred and my knees almost gave. “Five,” I wheezed.
She gave my sack a light, affectionate pat, eyes sparkling. “Look at these disobedient little things already working so hard for my cardio. They bruise so nicely when they’re trying. We’re not near done yet.”
She bolted forward. I scrambled after her, leash pulling my swollen sack taut again, the dull ache now constant, heavy, radiating with every step. I’m helping her. Every single tug is making her stronger. The balls are the weak ones, not me. I can endure this for her.
She got more erratic after that—fake stumbles, sharp turns, sudden stops. I tried, I really tried, but another bump happened. She whirled again, voice mock-angry. “Still bumping into me? These rebellious nuisances really don’t want me to get my cardio, do they?” She made me kneel.
Her toe hooked under my left ball and smashed it flat. “One.”
Her foot drove into my right ball, flattening it hard. “Two.”
She caught the left nut again, grinding side to side. “Three.”
The next kick landed on the right ball, toe twisting underneath. “Four.”
Her final kick crushed both at once, meat spilling around her foot. “Five.”
She straightened, brushing a strand of hair from her face, and smiled down at me. “These pathetic nuts are putting on quite the show tonight. All swollen and obedient just so I don’t have to wear silly ankle weights. Keep it up, honey—you’re making me so proud.”
Later, as the stretch became increasingly overwhelming, I moved a bit faster to let some tension off to relieve my pain, and the rope sagged again. She stopped and sighed theatrically. “You’re not even trying to help me now? After everything I do for you?” She yanked my balls forward once more—purple, cold, swollen like overripe plums twice their normal size—and delivered five more punches.
Her fist slammed into my left nut. “One.”
A quick jab crushed my right ball sideways. “Two.”
She ground into the left again, fingers curling deep. “Three.”
Slow rolling pressure flattened the right orb. “Four.”
Finally both were crushed together in a slow, grinding squeeze that left me doubled over, gasping, the dull throb radiating up into my gut so strongly I thought I might be sick. “Five.”
By the time the timer finally beeped at sixty minutes she was flushed, breathing hard, sweat darkening the small of her back and making her tank top cling to those heavy, fleshy breasts I adored, the abundant breast meat sagging naturally with her movement. Her thighs flexed as she slowed, hair sticking to her neck. I couldn’t stand anymore. I dropped to my knees right there on the basement floor, cradling my ruined sack—deep purple, ice-cold to the touch after an hour of constant stretching, every heartbeat sending fresh dull aches rolling through them.
She untied the rope gently, then knelt beside me and patted my swollen, cold sack with real affection. “Thanks, honey. That was real cardio.” She smiled, soft and loving, the way she always did after pushing me right to the edge. Then her fingers traced the tight, chilled skin and she let out a little hum of approval mixed with something sharper. “Mmm, look at these pathetic nuts—all cold and purple just so I didn’t have to wear ankle weights. They really are earning their keep tonight. I almost wish they stayed this pretty color and this nice and cold all the time… might have to find more ways to keep them like this for me.”
She pulled her phone out of her pocket and snapped a few quick pictures of my bruised, cold sack. “These are going straight to my fans,” she said cheerfully. “They love seeing what a good job I do keeping these pathetic nuts in line.” She angled the phone for another shot, then grinned wider. “Now be a good boy and hold them up for me—cup them nicely in both hands and give me a big smile.”
Still on my knees, trembling, I lifted my heavy, ice-cold balls with both palms, presenting them toward the camera while forcing a weak, shaky smile onto my face. The flash went off. She took one more from a slightly different angle, clearly enjoying my humiliation.
She gave them one last affectionate squeeze, eyes gleaming with that familiar promise of future plans. “Let’s do this a couple of times a week. It might even help those pathetic balls get a bit stronger.”
I nodded, suffering and aching and so in love it hurt worse than anything she had just done to me. Tonight I got to help my wife, and it made her happy. It was such a good night.
Chapter 1 and 2 (Kicking and electrical play) Chapter 3 (Kicking and licking) Chapter 4 and 5 (Kicking and crushing in a vice) Chapter 6 (Hammering and sex) Chapter 7 (Execution style weight play and licking) Chapter 8 (Caning in stocks) Chapter 9 (Kicking) Chapter 10 (Crushing) Chapter 11 (Kicking) Chapter 12 (Hammering) Chapter 13 (Cattle Prod) Chapter 14 (Kicking) Chapter 15 (Leashed pulling, Kicking) Chapter 16 (Kicking, Shocking) Chapter 17 (Kicking, Caning) Chapter 18 (Cock Burning) Chapter 19 (Caning) Chapter 20 (Caning, Kicking, Taser) Chapter 21 (Cock Torture, Ball Kicks) Chapter 22 (Testicle Vice) Chapter 23 (Kicking) Chapter 24 (Kicking) Chapter 25 (Punching, Cattle Prod) Chapter 26 (Needles) Chapter 27 (Ballbusting, Humiliation) Chapter 28 (Whipping, Caning, Cattle Prod) Chapter 29 (Variety of Escalating Torture) Chapter 30 (Kicking) Chapter 31 (Kicking) Chapter 32 (Beating) Chapter 33 (Leashed pulling, Kicking, Punching) Author's Note: My document that I use to store my drafts currently has 47 chapters, and 230 pages of content for this story. It's a pretty significant accomplishment. I hope you are enjoying it, and that I can continue adding chapters.
I love feedback, and would appreciate hearing your thoughts, and suggestions.