High School (ball) Crush, Part 1

(Note that while the title says "high school," the characters in this story are 20 years past that - all of them are well over 18. Some stuff in this story, in case you want warnings or just want to know whether this is your thing: >! nonconsensual ballbusting, CFNM, drugged drink, bondage, castration threats, some non-consensual cock-stroking. There's no sex and the woman stays clothed, but our man does get an erection, and there are brief mentions of his past sexual exploits.!<)

Martin awoke with the groggy, stomach-churning sensation of a hangover. He groaned. He was, unfortunately, quite familiar with having a little too much to drink, even at his age. In fact, he was so experienced in these kinds of alcohol soaked mornings that he knew immediately he was not at home and that at some point he'd blacked out. As he groaned, his head swam - something wasn't right, beyond that - something was different.

He opened his eyes, waiting for the blur to clear. He was... cold? As his proprioception began to awaken, he realized what was strange: he was standing. He shook his head, blinked his eyes, and squinted against the headache. He did not recognize the room he was in, but his vision was returning. He was indeed standing, and his arms were above him. He shook his hands and realized that he was handcuffed to some kind of chain that hung from the ceiling. As he looked down, he saw that some kind of bar was attached to both of his ankles, keeping his legs spread apart. He was completely naked.

Apparently, he'd hooked up with someone kinky. He rolled his eyes. What had he done this time? He was definitely not into this kind of thing - who needed this fetish shit? He tried to remember how he'd got here. He could remember being at a bar...

"You waking up?"

That would be his hook-up, he supposed. Normally, Martin would have feigned being late for something and started searching for his clothes at this point, but it looked like he'd have to get himself out of this. The voice came from behind him. He tried to turn his head, but the waves of dizziness prevented him from seeing her.

"You uh... you have me at a disadvantage," he said. It was all he could come up with. She laughed, a genuine, full-throated chuckle that lasted a few seconds. There was something... familiar about it?

"You bet your balls I do," she said. "You're going to have a lot of questions. All of them are leading to the big one: what do you have to do so that I'll let you out of here?" Her voice was definitely familiar.

Martin did not like this.

"Here's the deal, Martin: the quickest way for you to go home is to stay quiet and do what I say. If you talk when I haven't asked you a question, I'm going to punish you. When I *do* ask you a question, if you don't answer, I'm going to punish you. You are naked and vulnerable and you won't like my punishment. Do you understand?"

Martin craned his neck, but his vision was still too blurry to see who was talking. She was right behind him, close enough that he could feel her breath on his neck. He suddenly felt her hand close around his balls and tense. She fondled them, gently, just shy of squeezing, juggling them with her fingers for a moment. It felt good - she was playing with his actual balls and not just the sack. It was pleasurable enough to make him aware of his penis. "Turn around and look forward," she said. "And answer my question."

"I'm just trying to - " Before Martin could finish his sentence, her hand moved to his left ball and closed, tightly. Her felt four of her fingers compress his nut into her fist and yelled in pain. He thrashed, his hands rattling the chain above him as he involuntarily tried to cradle his nuts. She laughed again, with genuine enjoyment as he yelled "Fuck!"

"I don't care what you're trying to do," she said. "Turn around and look forward."

He did, immediately. Her grip on his left nut loosened.

"I'll try again. Do what I tell you. Don't talk unless I ask you a question. When I ask you a question, answer it. I've got you by the balls, Martin. Break the rules and I'll break them." She squeezed again, hard, this time squishing bot of nuts, flattening them. He yelled out in pain and squirmed, trying not to thrash as he did before.

As the pain traveled to his chest, he realized: it looked like he was going to have to play along for awhile.

"I understand! I understand! Whatever you say!"

Her hand let go of his balls and he breathed a sigh of relief. He opened his mouth, then remembered: let her talk.

"You're very groggy right now. I'm going to give you something to drink, to help you recover. You're going to drink the entire thing. Do you understand?"

"Okay. Yes." Martin didn't relish the idea, but he *was* thirsty. A moment later, he felt her arms circle around him. It was somehow a little erotic. It reminded him of a reach-around he'd gotten a few weeks ago. Her hands held a cup of some kind of reddish-pink liquid.

"It's Pedialyte," she said.

He groaned. He preferred Gatorade for a hangover, but he didn't want her to squeeze his balls again. He bent toward the glass and drank, greedily, as she tipped it more and more toward him. He looked at her hands. Her nails were unadorned and clipped short. There were no rings on her fingers. He definitely knew her, but he was still too disoriented to even try to place from where. Maybe it was just deja vu. Maybe he was just remembering what happened last night, in pieces.

"Take a few minutes to recover," said the voice behind him. "Don't turn around."

Martin stood, not that he had a choice. If he let himself go slack, he could sort of squat a little, but his movement was pretty restricted. Eventually, his vision cleared. He could see a door, but not much else in the room. It had hardwood floors and bare, white walls. She hadn't told him *not* to look at the ceiling, but he didn't want to risk it; his memories seemed like the best bet to getting information. He racked his brain. He *was* at a bar last night. He'd been meeting a friend-with-benefits, and it definitely was *not* the woman who was talking. His balls hurt, and his stomach ached from the pain in his nuts. That laugh... it sounded... Suddenly, a face popped into his head. He remembered his hands slipping under a bra...

"Jocelyn?" he said.

He suddenly realized he'd spoken without her asking and gritted his teeth. For a moment there was silence behind him.

"I'm surprised," she said. "How did you remember me?"

"I don't understand this," he said. "We haven't really tal-"

Pain exploded in his nuts as he felt a a hard shoe collide with the center of his nutsack. "Uhhh," he managed, as the wind was knocked out of him. She had just kicked him in the balls.

"I asked you a question," she said.

"Aaaah!" he said. He had never been kicked in the nuts so hard. His legs tried to close and couldn't. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. What was the question?"

"How did you remember me?"

"My balls..." he said.

"I'll kick them again if you don't answer."

"Your laugh," he said. "I remembered your laugh."

"Hm," she said. There was a long pause. Martin didn't dare break the silence except for his involuntary moaning. Eventually his legs stopped trying to twitch closed, but his balls throbbed.

Jocelyn walked around to the front, and Martin looked up. There was a glitter in her eyes, but she was frowning. She was dressed just the same way she had been dressed twenty years ago - tight jeans, a short-sleeve t-shirt (this one was black and said "The Ramones"), and, of course, doc martens. It had been about twenty years since he'd seen her last. She looked good - older, of course, but she had aged well. There were definitely some heavy bags under her eyes, but she had kept it tight. If he'd met her somewhere, he would probably have tried to fuck her.

Hell, maybe he had.

"So you remember me," she said. "That bodes well for your balls. How do I look?"

He swallowed. "You haven't aged a day, Joss. You look good."

She smirked, tapping one of her boots against the floor. "I have definitely aged, more than a day. The next time you lie to me and I know it, I'm going to punch you in the nuts."

"Please," he said. "They hurt so much already..."

She cocked her head and raised one of her eyebrows. Slowly, she held her hand up in front of his face, making a circle with her thumb and middle finger. She brought her hand down to his waist and flicked his right ball."

"Aaah!"

"Didn't ask you to speak," she said. She grabbed his chin, and held his face so that they were eye-to-eye. She was smiling now, biting her lip. "In case you hadn't noticed, any time you break the rules, I'm taking it out on your balls. And I am absolutely willing to castrate you. I'll pop them, one at a time, and I'll enjoy doing it. I'll get off on it." She grabbed his balls and played with them gently, and he watched her lick his lips. Despite his predicament and the deep pain in his manhood, he could feel his dick starting to harden. She wanted him, she was hot, and that was all his penis understood. "I will completely crush those big nuts until there's nothing left, and I'll laugh about it. I'll take pictures of your destroyed ballsack and masturbate to them. So you'd better do what I say. Do you understand?"

He nodded. He tried to swallow, but his throat was dry. "Okay, Joss."

"Good. You all the way awake now? You're here with me?"

He thought for a minute. Yeah, he was awake now, and the hangover actually seemed pretty mild. He considered lying, but wouldn't that just mean he'd be here longer? He wanted to get home, to ice his balls. Being honest was hopefully the best way. Nobody had written a script for when your high school ex had you bound and seemed hell-bent on torturing your nuts.

"I think so. Still a little groggy, maybe."

"You will be a bit groggy." She grinned. "I had someone put something in your drink."

"Why?"

She shook her head. Fuck. She got down on her knees and looked up at him, playfully. The expression on her face was the same one she used to make before she'd shove her tongue down his throat, and her face was inches away from his dick. It rose, fully erect, to meet her.

"Ooh, you like me on my knees, huh?" she said. "Fuck you, Martin." She pulled her arm back, making a fist, and shot it forward into his sack. His dick being out of the way, her fist collided with both of his balls, sending them swinging and elevating the dull ache to a roar. She laughed again, gleefully.

"Aaaaaahhhh!" he said. His hands, his legs, every part of him instinctively tried to protect his fragile balls, but he was completely exposed and there was nothing he could do. He wanted to cradle them, protect them, but his masculinity was just hanging there, feeling the pain of impact and pressure.

"Look at them swing!" she said, staring right at his balls. He felt naked, weak... emasculated. "You're so fun to play with, Martin. She ran her index finger along his dick. "And this is even bigger than I expected. Plus, you got it nice and hard for me, quick." Martin moaned with pleasure as her finger went from the head of his cock down to the base. His balls still throbbed with pain but her ministrations took him away, making him focus on his penis. She took her index finger and pulled the head of cock down, then let it spring back and bob. "I hope that you keep breaking the rules." She stood up again, looking him in the eyes. "You're cute when you squirm."

She stood there a minute, staring down at his cock. Martin had never been embarrassed by his nudity before, but now he was. He tried to stop moaning, but he couldn't. His balls felt heavy and hot, and the ache went all the way to his chest. He willfully closed his mouth. No talking. He'd learned his lesson.

After a moment or two, she broke his gaze and turned away from him. Against every rational instinct, he watched her ass wiggle as she took a few steps away. She always had been incredibly hot, and for some reason, the pain in his balls only made his cock want her more. His dick had seemed only to hear the compliments, and not the threats to completely emasculate him.

"The answer to your question," she said, "about why you're here, is that I wanted to have a chat. Under *my* terms. So I had a friend slip you something. She's been fucking you for awhile now, because I told her to. It's a long story, but she'd do pretty much whatever I told her to. Maybe we'll have some time to talk about her more later." She turned back to face him. "Was she good?"

He panicked. "What do you mean?"

She rolled her eyes, pulled her foot back and slammed the toes of her boots directly into his balls. He screamed. His could physically feel his balls uncompress, sickeningly, as her foot pulled back. He had never been in this much pain before, and it radiated out from his nuts. A tear fell from his eye and came down his cheek. "You know what I meant," she said. "Was she good?"

Martin closed his eyes, trying to concentrate. "In bed, you mean? Yeah. She was good."

"How good?"

He opened his eyes. "I don't... I mean..." She raised an eyebrow and pulled back her leg. "Wait, wait!
Please! She was fantastic. Maybe gave the best head I've ever had. Her tits were amazing and she let me fuck them. She had a tight pussy and she knew how to move. Please don't hurt my balls anymore."

For a second, Jocelyn narrowed her eyes, angrily, but then she smiled, and the playful glitter returned. "Good. She may have been your last, after all." She paused, as if daring him to speak. He didn't dare even move his head. He could feel himself sweating. In spite of it all, his cock wanted her, and he was trying desperately not to focus on that.

"I arranged all of that for you. You should thank me." His balls hurt so much. The pain was hot and sharp and wouldn't let him forget that they were just hanging there, completely vulnerable and fragile.

Suddenly, she brought her hand back and arced it into a slap, stinging his sack and smacking his nuts, hitting the low-hanging left one particularly hard. "I said you should thank me!" she said.

"Thank you!" he shouted. "I'm sorry! Thank you!" Please, my balllllllls..."

She laughed as though she was having the time of her life and hummed pleasantly. "Ooh, you're so vocal! You're a sadist's dream, you know that? With all your cute squirming and yelling. Really lets a girl know that she owns your balls. And you have a nice set of nuts for torturing. Mm. Look at that cock twitch! It'll almost be a shame if I have to de-ball you."

Martin felt beads of sweat trickle down his chest. Was she really going to do that to him? She certainly hadn't had any compunctions about brutally assaulting his man-bits.

"Please..." he said, quietly.

"Next question, Marty. Why do you think I'm doing this?"

He gulped. "I don't know."

She grabbed his balls, sort of tickling them, with one hand, and grabbed his dick with the other hand. she stroked his cock, slowly, gently, running her fingers along it instead of wrapping them around it. "Guess," she said. She pressed her lips against his ear. "Your balls may depend on it. Why am I doing this to you? Why am I crushing your nuts?"

His mind raced, furiously. It was hard to think, with her breathing into his ear, fondling his balls, jerking him off. They hadn't even gotten that far in high school. She'd felt him up over his pants once and he'd gotten to second base a few times. They'd never even seen each other naked. Well, until now.

"Because we broke up?" he tried. He looked at her pleadingly and braced himself for more pain.

She smiled, drumming her fingers lightly on his penis. He tried to search her face. She was smiling, but it was a sadistic smile. Her eyes were focused on his crotch, hungrily. He felt horribly exposed. He'd never seen *her* naked, but here he was, on full display. "Hm," she said. She let go of his dick. "Well, it's accurate, at least, but your phrasing!" Her fingers compressed around his balls and he bucked and kicked, trying desperately to break free from the squeeze. His entire universe was closed in her fist. She could crush him completely or make him beg to come. She could do whatever she wanted to him. "'Because we broke up' he says. We're here because you dumped me, Martin."

"That was twenty years ago!"

He immediately realized his mistake. Her expression changed to one of pure anger, all the arousal and mirthful smile draining from her face. As he panicked, she let go of his balls, and for one merciful moment, he thought he'd escaped her wrath.

But then she grabbed him, wrapping her arms fully around him, and slammed her knee into his balls. "Uhhhhh..." he managed, and before he could even think about how devastated his nuts were, she kneed him again. He felt denim and hard bone crush his balls against his own pelvis and then, a third time, a solid, loud, smack as his nuts were squashed against his own body. "Uhhhhhh, Ohhhhhhh," he said. His balls felt like they had doubled in size and been dipped in boiling water. "Uhhhhhhh......." He could think of nothing but the pain.

"Yeah, it *was* twenty years ago," she said, letting him go. "I've had to live with what you said and did for twenty years. And I'm going to make sure that you live with it for the rest of your life. If you're lucky and you behave, it will be because you'll remember how long your balls ached. They're going to hurt for days, at least. They'll be bruised and swollen and you'll have trouble walking. But I'm sort of hoping the reason that you remember tonight is because it will be the night that I take your balls from you forever. By squishing them into complete mush. I kind of want my revenge, if only so it'll satisfy my castration fantasies. I hope you *don't* behave."

She grabbed his balls, and even the gentle pressure hurt. "Let's dive in to the breakup, shall we?" She gently fondled his nuts, and the sharp pain echoed with each movement, like she was nut-tapping him continuously. Again, she put her mouth next to his ear, and his cock twitched, allowing him, for a second, to think of anything besides his testicular trauma. "I have a long day prepared for you," she whispered, and he could hear how much she relished it.

She let go of his balls and walked behind him. "Better get your nuts ready."

(to be continued... Please excuse me if it takes a long time to get to the sequel. Feedback is welcome. Thank you for reading, and sorry if any of this wasn't your thing.)