A Week in the life chapter 12 (Story)
**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.
Here are the previous chapters.
* [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: Thursday: After Dinner Fun (Hammering)**
I painfully cooked dinner. Pulling a 25 pound millstone behind me, constantly pulling on my beaten and battered testicles. When my wife returned from her shower, provocatively clad in a loose t-shirt and panties, she took over cooking, and tasked me with setting the table.
This gave my throbbing testicles more opportunities to suffer. With several trips from the kitchen to the dining room resulting in painful pulling sensation as the millstone follows stubbornly. Twice as I rounded the island, the millstone caught on the base of it, and pulled me up short. My reaction as my testicles abruptly stopped moving, but my body struggled to continue provoked my wife to burst into a fit of sexy giggling.
After each such instance, I diligently made 3 attempts, without changing angle or direction to free the millstone by jerking at it with my bound testicles. After completing my 3 jerks, and heard my wife’s angelic laughter, I was able to adjust my angle, and resume my duties.
Once the table was set, and the food cooked. My wife took care to locate the mallet, and place it threateningly in the center of the table like an ornate centerpiece. Between the recently suffered pain, the constant throbbing of my swollen man orbs, and the impending doom of knowing that for desert I was getting 2 hits with the 1 pound rubber mallet, it was hard for me to rally an appetite, so I ate sparingly. My wife was in excellent humor. All smiles, and jokes. She relished my battle against my own fear, and mentioned several times how well she felt like I was progressing in training, and how proud she was of what was going to happen to “the balls” that evening. Once, she reached forward and caressed the handle of the mallet, successfully provoking me to distraction in the middle of a story about work.
When dinner was over, she cleared the plates while I gingerly detached the millstone, and try to psych myself up to handle the upcoming pain. After putting away the plates, she skipped back to the table causing her breasts to jiggle about in her shirt, and driving me to distraction.
“OK,” She Says. “Let’s get this over with so we can get onto tonight’s main event. Put the balls onto the table.”
“Main event?” I ask, not expecting an answer as I grip my scrotum in the middle with one hand, forcing my sensitive nuts to the bottom of their bag, and then setting the tight cluster of badly hurting man parts on the table to await the hammer my wife was gleefully holding.
She ignores me, and continues, “Now don’t you dare vomit, or we’ll have to do the hammer every night until I’m sure you’ve learned.”
She takes a position, sizing up her target. My legs shake with fear and anticipation.
“This one…” She says, “Is to prove to me that you’ve learned your lesson”. With the last word, the mallet comes down sandwiching my delicate balls between it’s powerful momentum, and the unyielding wood of the table below them.
Two steps back, the world dims a bit, then I’m on my knees, then on my side. I’m pitifully grasping my again mangled nuts. I can’t find air, but still I’m moaning. Wining. Pitifully pleading for relief from the pain.
My wife watches my reaction with a hand against the front of her panties. I’m not sure how long she lets me recover, but eventually, she determines that It’s been long enough. “What do you say when I hurt the balls really good like that?”
“Tha...Thank You” I stammer out.
“OK then. One more. This time to prove to me that you man enough to be worthy of me.” She glares intimidatingly. “Stop mewling like a child, get up and let's give the balls what is coming to them.”
I take 2 more deep breaths, and then lever myself to my feet. I’m not fully recovered, but I want so badly to prove that I’m worthy of my loving wife, and to do so, I’m going to let her hit my badly hurting symbols of manhood with a hammer.
Once I’ve gained my feet, I collect my slightly mushy nut meat at the end of my sac, and secure the tender balls in place by gripping my scrotum above them with my right hand. Then I freeze. A crisis of confidence. I’m so terrified. I look down at my tight ball bag, and consider the pain coming from my swollen, and misshapen nuts. I look at my wife. Her left hand is gripping the front of her panties, and her right hand is swinging the hammer about casually.
Catching my gaze, she gestures with the hammer towards the table.
Two more deep breaths, and then I struggle to step forward to the table. I doubt my ability. I battle my fear. Finally, conquering my terror, I set my vulnerable testicles on the table, and wait for the hammer to fall.
Testing my resolve, my wife says cheerfully, “Here it comes”. My body urges me to pull back. To shield my testicles. Anything to protect my reproductive organs from the oncoming pain. My composure breaks, but too late. With my wife’s last word, the hammer descends.
It solidly connects to both nuts, and then tries to meet the table on the other side. The testicles squirm and flatten, and eventually unable to move or change shape any more form a thin wall of compressed male organs, frustrating the hammer in it’s attempt to make contact with the table.
All this happens while I’m watching. I see the ball meat spread out to either side of the hammer head. I see the changing color of the scrotum as powerful forces cause it to stretch and bulge. I don’t feel it at first.
And then I do, and the feeling consumes me. “Uuuuggggghhhhh”, all of the air whooses from my lungs with an inhuman wail. I’m light headed, but still upright, and I again take two steps back, and then I collapse to my knees.
I stay on my knees, can’t breathe, can’t think. Just kneel there unmoving. Not even feeling anything for a second. My wooziness starts to overcome me, and I remember that my brain needs oxygen, so I struggle to inhale. With my stasis broken, I lean forward onto a chair, and struggle to breath. Hyperventilating, the pain in my testicles returns bringing nausea with it. I don’t know why, but I whine, “They hurt so bad”.
My wife seated at the edge of a chair with her hand now down her panties grins. “What do you say?”.
“Thank….Thank You.” I force out, and then slide further down to the floor, curling partially into a fetal position.
“Don’t spend all night loafing around. We’ve still got plans for the balls tonight. I’ll be waiting for them in the living room… Naked, when you are ready to join me.”
I respond with a whine that is half pleading, and half desiring.
She leaves, taking off her shirt as she goes, and as soon as my head clears enough, I start crawling to follow.
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