A Story (Consolidated): Part I, Part II and unfinished Part III
Here is a link to an image I had in mind for the star, Sara’s converse:
https://ibb.co/tzsvC5K
PART I:
John was 18, and just graduated from high school. He was short, 5’4”, and skinny, maybe 125 lbs soaking wet, but was toned and handsome, with a cute boyish face, and dark hair and eyes. He had never had much success with girls because he was shy and lacked confidence. While he had rounded most of the “bases” with past girlfriends or hookups, he was still a virgin, and had never even gotten a blowjob. Part of the reason for John’s shyness was that he felt self-conscience about his turn-ons.
In particular, John had always been attracted to women’s shoes. He had a particular thing for sneakers. Throughout high school he’d felt as though people could tell he was always staring at women’s shoes and constantly trying to hide his arousal. Even more embarrassing to John, his shoe fetish had led him to find Ballbusting porn online, and so he now fantasized about women kicking him in the balls.
John was about to start his first “real” job. He needed to save up to get his own place. It was a warehouse job loading and unloading shelves and trucks. On his first day he was shown the ropes by his direct supervisor, Sara.
Sara was older than John, in her late thirties. She was 5’7”, fit, 130 lbs, with long brown hair and brown eyes, and had a pretty but stern face. Sara had gotten divorced several years ago and it had been nasty, as it turned out that Sara’s ex had been cheating on her for years and took no responsibility for his actions or the divorce. Despite making enough money to have been supporting them both, he refused to give her a dime without a fight, and this is what led Sara to taking the warehouse job. She was bitter and distrusting of men as a result, and hadn’t dated or even hooked up much since the divorce. She hated her ex, and men in general, and more than once had fantasized about hurting her ex as much as he had hurt her.
While being shown around the warehouse by Sara, John couldn’t help but take notice of her slightly scuffed, low top, red converse sneakers. John had a thing for converse in particular. Especially the way Sara was wearing them, with the bottom of her tapered jeans rolled up to show her ankles and a bit of sock. More than once during his orientation he felt like Sara caught him staring at her shoes, or noticed the erection he was trying to hide as he stared almost hypnotized at her feet.
Sara for her part couldn’t help but notice how cute, young and unimposing John was. She had noticed John staring at her feet and the erection he was trying to hide but decided not to say anything… yet. They finished the orientation by 1:00 pm, and John started on his first half day of work, loading and unloading boxes.
Just before 5:00 pm Sara came out of the small broom closet sized office she had at the back of the warehouse and found John, telling him to stop what he was doing because they needed to finish up some paperwork in her office. John followed her back to her office, staring intently at her shoes as he did, getting excited at the brief glimpse of the dark soles of her converse with each step she took. John again found himself needing to try to conceal his erection. Sara could catch glimpses of all of this by looking at the convex security mirrors at the end of each aisle of the warehouse, which John failed to notice with his gaze so intently focused downward.
The two got back to Sara’s office where Sara took a seat at a small desk, and directed John to sit in the chair positioned directly next to the desk on the left. John sat, and put his work issued hat in his lap to help hide his arousal. Sara directed John to pull his chair closer to her to go over the paperwork. As he did so she made a point of crossing her right leg over her left so that her right foot would be between John’s legs as the two half faced each other in the tiny space. John’s heart raced as he noticed this. Particularly when Sara propped the toe of her shoe against the seat of John’s chair, right between his legs, inches from his crotch.
Sara wasn’t naive, and years of not dating or hooking up had led her to watching her own fair share of pornography. She was familiar with foot fetishes , and figured this is what was going on with John. Sara thought to herself that while she wasn’t ready to be vulnerable with a man yet, having a shy, smaller young man at her feet as a plaything might be nice.
Sara could see how flustered John was getting, and could hear the lump in his throat as he tried to answer basic questions for the employment forms. She decided to cut the chase and said:
“John, I saw you staring at my feet all day.”
She could see the look of horror and shame on his face. John thought this was his worst nightmare. But Sara quickly followed up:
“It’s okay, I know some guys have foot fetishes. I don’t mind, I think it’s cute.”
John was shocked and flustered, but also super excited. In his excitement he blurted out:
“It’s not a foot fetish it’s a shoe fetish, and I like, um uh…”
John trailed off and looked down at how close the toe of Sara’s chuck was to his crotch. Sara was surprised. She knew about foot fetish and to a lesser extent that some guys got off to heels, but she had never heard of a guy having a thing for sneakers, despite the porn rabbit holes she had gone down a few times. Sara spoke up and broke the silence:
“What, what do you like John? It’s okay, we’re going to be working together a lot, I’m gonna be the person you have to come to with any issues, you can tell me anything.”
John couldn’t believe what was happening and felt like this must be some sort of trick, but he was too tempted at the prospect of fulfilling his biggest sexual fantasy. He closed his eyes and blurted out:
“I like getting kicked in the balls.”
In reality John liked the idea of getting kicked in the balls, as he’d never actually been kicked. Sara was taken back by this, she had seen thumbnails and links to something called Ballbusting porn before but never clicked on them. She hid her surprise though as it quickly dawned on her how much she would love to get out all the years of anger and rage she felt towards her ex and men in general. Sara looked at John waiting for him to raise his eyes to hers and said:
“I could do that for you, if you want. Do you want me to kick you in the balls, John?”
John couldn’t believe what he was hearing, he was rock hard, and in shock he dropped his hat from his lap, revealing his erection straining again his pants, inches away from Sara’s shoe pressed against the edge of his chair. John’s brain raced and landed on fuck it, he swallowed hard and said:
“Yes, please.”
Sara thought it was adorable and funny that he said please to the prospect of getting kicked in the balls by her. She smirked and followed up:
“Hard? With my chucks?”
John swallowed hard again, he couldn’t speak, but managed to nod yes.
Sara uncrossed her legs, removing her shoe from between John’s legs, and reached for a sticky from her desk. She jotted down her phone number and address. She handed it to John and told him to come to her place around 8:00 pm and to text when he was outside.
John said “ok” in a barely audible voice and took the sticky note and put it in his shirt pocket. Sara told John they were done for the day, and that she’d see him tonight, not bothering to look up from the paperwork on her desk. John stood up, grabbed his hat off the floor, snuck another peak at Sara’s shoes under the desk, and quickly left Sara’s tiny office. He was sweating, and quickly walked to his car holding his hat over his crotch to hide his straining erection.
PART II:
John raced home from work, jumped out of his car and ran upstairs into his bedroom in his mother’s house, shutting the door behind him. John jumped on his bed, frantically undid his pants and immediately masturbated to the thought of his warehouse supervisor Sara kicking him in the balls with her red chucks. John finished within less than a minute, as he replayed the image of the toe of her shoe pressed against the seat of his chair inches from his crotch in Sara’s office earlier. Exhausted, he fell asleep.
John awoke a couple of hours later. Panicked, he grabbed his phone to check what time it was. It was 7:00 pm. He was supposed to be at Sara’s at 8:00 pm. John pulled the sticky note with Sara’s info on it from his shirt pocket and plugged her address into his phone to see how far away it was. A fifteen minute drive. John jumped out of bed and rushed into the shower. As John showered his mind raced, wondering if this was really going to happen. After cleaning up and getting dressed John checked the clock, it was 7:30 pm. Thirty more minutes he thought to himself.
John was tempted to text Sara’s number, also on the sticky note, to confirm their plans, but remembered that she had told him to text when he was outside of her place, so he restrained himself. John was so turned on he considered jerking off again, but decided against it, as he knew he might lose his nerve if he did, and miss his chance to fulfill his biggest sexual fantasy. Instead, he grabbed his keys and headed for the door, shouting “I’m going out, I’ll be back later” to his mom on his way. John got into his car and followed his phone’s directions to Sara’s address. He arrived outside of a garden style apartment building (the kind with the doors to each unit outside) at about 7:50 pm and parked in the lot.
John was incredibly nervous, and turned on, wondering if this was really going to happen. As he sat there in his parked car he thought about Sara’s words back in her office. Did she say “hard” when asking him how he wanted to be kicked in the balls? He thought she did. And he remembered that he had agreed. John had never actually been kicked in the balls before. He started to wonder if he was in over his head. As this thought crossed his mind he checked his phone and saw that it was 7:59 pm. It was now or never. John typed in Sara’s number and sent a text:
“Hey, it’s John, from work, I’m outside in the parking lot.”
John waited, anxiously, for a reply. He watched as the little bubbles indicating typing appeared, and then disappeared, before a response came. It simply said:
“Unit 206”
John exited his car and made his way over to and up the stairs to the second level of the building, looking for Unit 206, his heart pounding in his chest.
Sara, for her part, had spent the last several hours sitting alone in her apartment seething in anger over the text she had received from her ex-husband telling her that the little amount of alimony he had been forced to pay her by the court as part of their divorce was going to be late, because he was using the money to take his new young girlfriend on a trip. Sara was so angry that she had forgotten to change out of her work clothes, or that John was even coming over, until his text came. John’s text briefly snapped her back to reality, and brought a smile to her face. She was still furious, but now she had an outlet.
John arrived in front of the door marked 206 and steadied himself, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door. Sara opened the door moments later wearing her same outfit from work earlier, a company t-shirt, tight tapered jeans rolled at the bottom, exposing her ankles just above her red low-top converse. As Sara opened the door John briefly made eye contacting with her before involuntarily staring down at her shoes. “Come in” Sara told him. John sheepishly entered the apartment. Sara said:
“Have a seat on the couch, I’ll be right back”
John took a seat on the sofa, his heart racing, as Sara headed to the kitchen. John watched her go, focused intently on her sneakers, listening the the weight of each step hit the floor, and the slight squeak as she walked onto the linoleum floor in the kitchen, and out of sight. From the kitchen Sara asked:
“Do you want a drink?”
Sara paused for a moment as she remembered John was only 18 and not even old enough to drink. She knew she was about to viciously kick this “boy” in the balls, but somehow felt strange giving him alcohol underage. She briefly chuckled to herself over the fact that kicking this teen’s reproductive organs into his throat was perfectly legal as long as he agreed to it, but that she couldn’t give him a beer. As this thought faded from her mind John nervously replied:
“No, thank you.”
Sara took a moment to consider what she was about to do. “Is this ok” she thought to herself. “Yes” she thought. She’d been through a lot, and it was time to do something to make herself feel good. If her slimy ex could sleep with 18 year girls then she could relieve some anger and sexual frustration fulfilling this young man’s fetish. Sara was content with her decision and returned to the living room where John was sat on the sofa. Sara was carrying with her one of the chairs from the kitchen table.
Sara approached John and placed the chair down directly in front of him and took a seat. She crossed her legs, so that her right foot was between John’s legs, and looked John in the eyes. She asked him:
“Do you like my sneakers, John?”
John looked down at Sara’s red converse sneaker as she slowly flexed and pointed her foot, and responded, simply:
“I do.”
Sara replied:
“And do you still want me to kick you in the balls with them?”
John’s heart raced, his mouth was dry, but there was no turning back, he kept his gaze fixated on her shoe and managed to stammer:
“Y-Yes, please.”
From the straining bulge in his pants, Sara knew that at this point John would agree to anything she said and added:
“And you want me to kick you as hard as I can, right?”
Without even thinking John breathlessly responded:
“Yes.”
As he did so fear and arousal grew simultaneously inside of him like a wave. Sara smiled, and told John to look her in the eyes, as his gaze met hers she said sternly:
“Good, now stand up, and spread your legs, wide.”
John did as he was told. He stood up and moved to the center of the room, where he stood with his legs spread wide. Sara also stood and moved her chair out of the way. She stood firm footed in front of John, who was slightly trembling. Sara at first smirked and then as her eyes fixated on John’s crotch her face took on the appearance of extreme focus and determination. She reared back her right leg, resting the ball of her sneaker clad foot on the hardwood floor momentarily, looked John in the eyes and said:
“Ready”
It was more of a command than a question, and Sara didn’t wait for a response. Sara swung her leg forward with nearly all of her strength. The toe of her right foot pushed hard off the floor, followed first by her knee quickly rising into the air, before her lower leg jackknifed forward, just as she’d been seen in the self defense videos on YouTube. But unlike in the videos, she kept her foot pointed upward, driving the hard rubber toe of her converse directly into John’s balls.
John was frozen in place with panic as Sara’s foot came crashing towards his balls. Before John could think, let alone speak, Sara’s foot crashed into his crotch, the toe of her shoe slamming dead center into his left testicle. As Sara’s foot made its impact the otherwise quiet apartment filled with a loud and sickening noise, a combination and a thud, a crack, and an almost wet sound.
*THWACK*
John’s left testicle was fully compressed between the toe of Sara’s shoe and his pelvic bone. John’s heels ever so slightly lifted off the ground, but this did little to lessen the impact.
Sara knew it was a solid kick but also that she’d instinctively held back a bit. Disappointed in herself she immediately drew her right leg back again and launched a second kick as hard as she could at John’s crotch. As she did John began to twist and crumble downward, and as a result this kick landed dead center on his right testicle. Again, that noise, but this time louder:
*THWACK*
John’s right testicle was now fully compressed between the toe of Sara’s shoe and his pelvic bone. This time John’s feet lifted entirely off the ground this time as he fell, his knees being pulled to his chest involuntarily as he if he couldn’t wait to hit the ground to curl into the fetal position. His upper body seemingly stayed in place as if held up by the force of Sara’s kick, all directed into his right testicle.
John hit the floor, curled into himself, and let out a silent scream, unable to breathe. Pain exploded in his testicles. He thought she had for sure destroyed his testicles. But all he could do was lay there cradling his possibly irreparably battered testicles. Everything felt like slow motion. It felt as though this agony would never stop. John regretted his decisions.
Sara watched this in real time and walked over to John, heaped on the floor in the fetal position. She stood with her feet right in front of his face and barked:
“Kiss my shoe, John!”
Shoving the toe of her right sneaker in front of his face, the hard rubber cap that had just ruined him. John was in shock and scared and didn’t what else to do but comply and began frantically kissing the toe of her converse while continuing to clutch his bruised testicles and moan. As he slobbered on Sara’s sneaker he began to realize he was still hard despite the unbearable pain, and went from kissing to licking the rubber toe of Sara’s shoe.
“Good boy”
Sara cooed at him. She pulled her foot away from John’s face, putting it instead between his knees forcing them apart and pushing John onto his back.
“Move your hands, now!”
She ordered. John, horny and terrified obeyed. Sara slammed her right foot down onto John’s crotch, heel first, directly into his testicles, as hard as she could. She knew from the bulging erection in his pants exactly where is balls were. John gasped, and squealed and instinctively grabbed at Sara’s shoe in a futile attempt to protect his balls. But Sara kept her foot on his balls leaning her weight into them.
“Is this what you like John? Is it everything you’d imagined? You fucking pervert!”
As she said this, Sara began to roughly rub her foot forward and backwards on John’s hard cock through his pants, painfully rolling and crushing his balls with every stroke.
John’s balls were on fire. He thought for sure this woman, who he had just met earlier that same day, was castrating him. Destroying any chance he ever had of fathering children, or maybe even ever having sex. But at the same time John was more turned on than he had ever been in his short life. John stopped struggling, and instead tried to enjoy the feeling of the canvass and cold hard rubber of Sara’s sneaker in his hand, and the rough strokes of her sole against his cock, over the throbbing constantly agitated pain in his testicles.
Sara was transfixed. Standing over John, she felt powerful and sexy for the first time in ages, as she crushed this barely a young man’s gonads to a pulp under her converse. She switched her gaze back and forth from her foot in John’s crotch, his hand limply grasping her sneaker, to John’s face bearing what looked like a mix of horrified ecstasy and pain.
As she watched, John’s head tilted back, his eyes rolled back and his breathing became harder and fastEr. Sara could feel the twitching under her shoe as John ejaculated in his pants from the friction. As he did, Sara, not done yet, took advantage of John’s distraction, and quickly pulled her right leg up, her knee to her chest, and slammed the sole of her shoe into his balls again. Again, heel first, again dead center on his testicles. Again that sound somewhere between a thud and someone slapping a piece of meet echoed through the air.
As she did this John spurted his last rope of cum into his underwear and lurched upward for a moment to clutch his balls, his hand still blocked from doing so be Sara’s sneaker clad foot, before falling back, hands at his sides. He was too drained to even try to cradle his balls anymore. Or too scared of what he might find.
Sara walked over to the chair she had set aside and pulled over to John’s head. She sat down, crossed her leg so that the sole of her right sneaker, the one that had just destroyed John’s sexual organs, was positioned right over his face.
“Lick!”
She ordered. John complied, sticking his tongue out and licking every inch of the bottom of Sara’s converse. As he did, Sara thought to herself that John was gonna make a fine employee, and she was finally gonna have some well deserved fun for a while.
PART III: (unfinished)
As John laid on the floor in a post ejaculation trance, exhausted, licking the bottom of his work supervisor Sara’s converse, the endorphins from his orgasm began to fade, and the pain in his testicles began to grow. His testicles burned and aches deeply at the same time. They felt hot, and pulsed waves of pain through his body. His balls felt tight as though they were rapidly swelling, which they in fact were. John’s hips began to roll back and forth and his legs writhed as his body made futile attempts to somehow adjust itself to the pain.
The rising pain quickly overtook the fading pleasure and John pulled his tongue off the bottom of Sara’s shoe back into his mouth and he wretched. John then let out a soft moan.
“Oh.. no, no, uh, nn, oh no, my balls…”
Tears welled in John’s eyes as fear crept over him that he was permanently ruined sexually.
Sara watched with fascination from her chair. She began to feel a bit worried herself as her adrenaline faded and it dawned on her she may have just severely damaged this boy’s testicles. Sara, not sure if she believed it, said to John:
“You’re okay, you’re okay. I’ll be right back.”
Sara stood up from her chair and stepping over John waked to the kitchen to get John and ice pack, some water and ibuprofen. Even in his current state John couldn’t help but watch Sara walk away from his low vantage point, watching the soles of her converse appear and disappear and she walked. He couldn’t escape the morbid fascination of fixating in the instrument of his sexual destruction.
As Sara rounded the corner into the kitchen and out of view John laid on his side and curled tightly into the fetal position, hands dug between his legs but too scared to actually tough his testicles. He closed his eyes tightly and simply repeated “fuck, fuck, fuck” under his breath as glimpses of what a castrated life might be like flashed through his head. Why am I like this, he thought to himself. How could she do this to me, he thought. He could still taste the soles of converse on his tongue and lips.
…
Please let me know your thoughts.
https://ibb.co/tzsvC5K
PART I:
John was 18, and just graduated from high school. He was short, 5’4”, and skinny, maybe 125 lbs soaking wet, but was toned and handsome, with a cute boyish face, and dark hair and eyes. He had never had much success with girls because he was shy and lacked confidence. While he had rounded most of the “bases” with past girlfriends or hookups, he was still a virgin, and had never even gotten a blowjob. Part of the reason for John’s shyness was that he felt self-conscience about his turn-ons.
In particular, John had always been attracted to women’s shoes. He had a particular thing for sneakers. Throughout high school he’d felt as though people could tell he was always staring at women’s shoes and constantly trying to hide his arousal. Even more embarrassing to John, his shoe fetish had led him to find Ballbusting porn online, and so he now fantasized about women kicking him in the balls.
John was about to start his first “real” job. He needed to save up to get his own place. It was a warehouse job loading and unloading shelves and trucks. On his first day he was shown the ropes by his direct supervisor, Sara.
Sara was older than John, in her late thirties. She was 5’7”, fit, 130 lbs, with long brown hair and brown eyes, and had a pretty but stern face. Sara had gotten divorced several years ago and it had been nasty, as it turned out that Sara’s ex had been cheating on her for years and took no responsibility for his actions or the divorce. Despite making enough money to have been supporting them both, he refused to give her a dime without a fight, and this is what led Sara to taking the warehouse job. She was bitter and distrusting of men as a result, and hadn’t dated or even hooked up much since the divorce. She hated her ex, and men in general, and more than once had fantasized about hurting her ex as much as he had hurt her.
While being shown around the warehouse by Sara, John couldn’t help but take notice of her slightly scuffed, low top, red converse sneakers. John had a thing for converse in particular. Especially the way Sara was wearing them, with the bottom of her tapered jeans rolled up to show her ankles and a bit of sock. More than once during his orientation he felt like Sara caught him staring at her shoes, or noticed the erection he was trying to hide as he stared almost hypnotized at her feet.
Sara for her part couldn’t help but notice how cute, young and unimposing John was. She had noticed John staring at her feet and the erection he was trying to hide but decided not to say anything… yet. They finished the orientation by 1:00 pm, and John started on his first half day of work, loading and unloading boxes.
Just before 5:00 pm Sara came out of the small broom closet sized office she had at the back of the warehouse and found John, telling him to stop what he was doing because they needed to finish up some paperwork in her office. John followed her back to her office, staring intently at her shoes as he did, getting excited at the brief glimpse of the dark soles of her converse with each step she took. John again found himself needing to try to conceal his erection. Sara could catch glimpses of all of this by looking at the convex security mirrors at the end of each aisle of the warehouse, which John failed to notice with his gaze so intently focused downward.
The two got back to Sara’s office where Sara took a seat at a small desk, and directed John to sit in the chair positioned directly next to the desk on the left. John sat, and put his work issued hat in his lap to help hide his arousal. Sara directed John to pull his chair closer to her to go over the paperwork. As he did so she made a point of crossing her right leg over her left so that her right foot would be between John’s legs as the two half faced each other in the tiny space. John’s heart raced as he noticed this. Particularly when Sara propped the toe of her shoe against the seat of John’s chair, right between his legs, inches from his crotch.
Sara wasn’t naive, and years of not dating or hooking up had led her to watching her own fair share of pornography. She was familiar with foot fetishes , and figured this is what was going on with John. Sara thought to herself that while she wasn’t ready to be vulnerable with a man yet, having a shy, smaller young man at her feet as a plaything might be nice.
Sara could see how flustered John was getting, and could hear the lump in his throat as he tried to answer basic questions for the employment forms. She decided to cut the chase and said:
“John, I saw you staring at my feet all day.”
She could see the look of horror and shame on his face. John thought this was his worst nightmare. But Sara quickly followed up:
“It’s okay, I know some guys have foot fetishes. I don’t mind, I think it’s cute.”
John was shocked and flustered, but also super excited. In his excitement he blurted out:
“It’s not a foot fetish it’s a shoe fetish, and I like, um uh…”
John trailed off and looked down at how close the toe of Sara’s chuck was to his crotch. Sara was surprised. She knew about foot fetish and to a lesser extent that some guys got off to heels, but she had never heard of a guy having a thing for sneakers, despite the porn rabbit holes she had gone down a few times. Sara spoke up and broke the silence:
“What, what do you like John? It’s okay, we’re going to be working together a lot, I’m gonna be the person you have to come to with any issues, you can tell me anything.”
John couldn’t believe what was happening and felt like this must be some sort of trick, but he was too tempted at the prospect of fulfilling his biggest sexual fantasy. He closed his eyes and blurted out:
“I like getting kicked in the balls.”
In reality John liked the idea of getting kicked in the balls, as he’d never actually been kicked. Sara was taken back by this, she had seen thumbnails and links to something called Ballbusting porn before but never clicked on them. She hid her surprise though as it quickly dawned on her how much she would love to get out all the years of anger and rage she felt towards her ex and men in general. Sara looked at John waiting for him to raise his eyes to hers and said:
“I could do that for you, if you want. Do you want me to kick you in the balls, John?”
John couldn’t believe what he was hearing, he was rock hard, and in shock he dropped his hat from his lap, revealing his erection straining again his pants, inches away from Sara’s shoe pressed against the edge of his chair. John’s brain raced and landed on fuck it, he swallowed hard and said:
“Yes, please.”
Sara thought it was adorable and funny that he said please to the prospect of getting kicked in the balls by her. She smirked and followed up:
“Hard? With my chucks?”
John swallowed hard again, he couldn’t speak, but managed to nod yes.
Sara uncrossed her legs, removing her shoe from between John’s legs, and reached for a sticky from her desk. She jotted down her phone number and address. She handed it to John and told him to come to her place around 8:00 pm and to text when he was outside.
John said “ok” in a barely audible voice and took the sticky note and put it in his shirt pocket. Sara told John they were done for the day, and that she’d see him tonight, not bothering to look up from the paperwork on her desk. John stood up, grabbed his hat off the floor, snuck another peak at Sara’s shoes under the desk, and quickly left Sara’s tiny office. He was sweating, and quickly walked to his car holding his hat over his crotch to hide his straining erection.
PART II:
John raced home from work, jumped out of his car and ran upstairs into his bedroom in his mother’s house, shutting the door behind him. John jumped on his bed, frantically undid his pants and immediately masturbated to the thought of his warehouse supervisor Sara kicking him in the balls with her red chucks. John finished within less than a minute, as he replayed the image of the toe of her shoe pressed against the seat of his chair inches from his crotch in Sara’s office earlier. Exhausted, he fell asleep.
John awoke a couple of hours later. Panicked, he grabbed his phone to check what time it was. It was 7:00 pm. He was supposed to be at Sara’s at 8:00 pm. John pulled the sticky note with Sara’s info on it from his shirt pocket and plugged her address into his phone to see how far away it was. A fifteen minute drive. John jumped out of bed and rushed into the shower. As John showered his mind raced, wondering if this was really going to happen. After cleaning up and getting dressed John checked the clock, it was 7:30 pm. Thirty more minutes he thought to himself.
John was tempted to text Sara’s number, also on the sticky note, to confirm their plans, but remembered that she had told him to text when he was outside of her place, so he restrained himself. John was so turned on he considered jerking off again, but decided against it, as he knew he might lose his nerve if he did, and miss his chance to fulfill his biggest sexual fantasy. Instead, he grabbed his keys and headed for the door, shouting “I’m going out, I’ll be back later” to his mom on his way. John got into his car and followed his phone’s directions to Sara’s address. He arrived outside of a garden style apartment building (the kind with the doors to each unit outside) at about 7:50 pm and parked in the lot.
John was incredibly nervous, and turned on, wondering if this was really going to happen. As he sat there in his parked car he thought about Sara’s words back in her office. Did she say “hard” when asking him how he wanted to be kicked in the balls? He thought she did. And he remembered that he had agreed. John had never actually been kicked in the balls before. He started to wonder if he was in over his head. As this thought crossed his mind he checked his phone and saw that it was 7:59 pm. It was now or never. John typed in Sara’s number and sent a text:
“Hey, it’s John, from work, I’m outside in the parking lot.”
John waited, anxiously, for a reply. He watched as the little bubbles indicating typing appeared, and then disappeared, before a response came. It simply said:
“Unit 206”
John exited his car and made his way over to and up the stairs to the second level of the building, looking for Unit 206, his heart pounding in his chest.
Sara, for her part, had spent the last several hours sitting alone in her apartment seething in anger over the text she had received from her ex-husband telling her that the little amount of alimony he had been forced to pay her by the court as part of their divorce was going to be late, because he was using the money to take his new young girlfriend on a trip. Sara was so angry that she had forgotten to change out of her work clothes, or that John was even coming over, until his text came. John’s text briefly snapped her back to reality, and brought a smile to her face. She was still furious, but now she had an outlet.
John arrived in front of the door marked 206 and steadied himself, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door. Sara opened the door moments later wearing her same outfit from work earlier, a company t-shirt, tight tapered jeans rolled at the bottom, exposing her ankles just above her red low-top converse. As Sara opened the door John briefly made eye contacting with her before involuntarily staring down at her shoes. “Come in” Sara told him. John sheepishly entered the apartment. Sara said:
“Have a seat on the couch, I’ll be right back”
John took a seat on the sofa, his heart racing, as Sara headed to the kitchen. John watched her go, focused intently on her sneakers, listening the the weight of each step hit the floor, and the slight squeak as she walked onto the linoleum floor in the kitchen, and out of sight. From the kitchen Sara asked:
“Do you want a drink?”
Sara paused for a moment as she remembered John was only 18 and not even old enough to drink. She knew she was about to viciously kick this “boy” in the balls, but somehow felt strange giving him alcohol underage. She briefly chuckled to herself over the fact that kicking this teen’s reproductive organs into his throat was perfectly legal as long as he agreed to it, but that she couldn’t give him a beer. As this thought faded from her mind John nervously replied:
“No, thank you.”
Sara took a moment to consider what she was about to do. “Is this ok” she thought to herself. “Yes” she thought. She’d been through a lot, and it was time to do something to make herself feel good. If her slimy ex could sleep with 18 year girls then she could relieve some anger and sexual frustration fulfilling this young man’s fetish. Sara was content with her decision and returned to the living room where John was sat on the sofa. Sara was carrying with her one of the chairs from the kitchen table.
Sara approached John and placed the chair down directly in front of him and took a seat. She crossed her legs, so that her right foot was between John’s legs, and looked John in the eyes. She asked him:
“Do you like my sneakers, John?”
John looked down at Sara’s red converse sneaker as she slowly flexed and pointed her foot, and responded, simply:
“I do.”
Sara replied:
“And do you still want me to kick you in the balls with them?”
John’s heart raced, his mouth was dry, but there was no turning back, he kept his gaze fixated on her shoe and managed to stammer:
“Y-Yes, please.”
From the straining bulge in his pants, Sara knew that at this point John would agree to anything she said and added:
“And you want me to kick you as hard as I can, right?”
Without even thinking John breathlessly responded:
“Yes.”
As he did so fear and arousal grew simultaneously inside of him like a wave. Sara smiled, and told John to look her in the eyes, as his gaze met hers she said sternly:
“Good, now stand up, and spread your legs, wide.”
John did as he was told. He stood up and moved to the center of the room, where he stood with his legs spread wide. Sara also stood and moved her chair out of the way. She stood firm footed in front of John, who was slightly trembling. Sara at first smirked and then as her eyes fixated on John’s crotch her face took on the appearance of extreme focus and determination. She reared back her right leg, resting the ball of her sneaker clad foot on the hardwood floor momentarily, looked John in the eyes and said:
“Ready”
It was more of a command than a question, and Sara didn’t wait for a response. Sara swung her leg forward with nearly all of her strength. The toe of her right foot pushed hard off the floor, followed first by her knee quickly rising into the air, before her lower leg jackknifed forward, just as she’d been seen in the self defense videos on YouTube. But unlike in the videos, she kept her foot pointed upward, driving the hard rubber toe of her converse directly into John’s balls.
John was frozen in place with panic as Sara’s foot came crashing towards his balls. Before John could think, let alone speak, Sara’s foot crashed into his crotch, the toe of her shoe slamming dead center into his left testicle. As Sara’s foot made its impact the otherwise quiet apartment filled with a loud and sickening noise, a combination and a thud, a crack, and an almost wet sound.
*THWACK*
John’s left testicle was fully compressed between the toe of Sara’s shoe and his pelvic bone. John’s heels ever so slightly lifted off the ground, but this did little to lessen the impact.
Sara knew it was a solid kick but also that she’d instinctively held back a bit. Disappointed in herself she immediately drew her right leg back again and launched a second kick as hard as she could at John’s crotch. As she did John began to twist and crumble downward, and as a result this kick landed dead center on his right testicle. Again, that noise, but this time louder:
*THWACK*
John’s right testicle was now fully compressed between the toe of Sara’s shoe and his pelvic bone. This time John’s feet lifted entirely off the ground this time as he fell, his knees being pulled to his chest involuntarily as he if he couldn’t wait to hit the ground to curl into the fetal position. His upper body seemingly stayed in place as if held up by the force of Sara’s kick, all directed into his right testicle.
John hit the floor, curled into himself, and let out a silent scream, unable to breathe. Pain exploded in his testicles. He thought she had for sure destroyed his testicles. But all he could do was lay there cradling his possibly irreparably battered testicles. Everything felt like slow motion. It felt as though this agony would never stop. John regretted his decisions.
Sara watched this in real time and walked over to John, heaped on the floor in the fetal position. She stood with her feet right in front of his face and barked:
“Kiss my shoe, John!”
Shoving the toe of her right sneaker in front of his face, the hard rubber cap that had just ruined him. John was in shock and scared and didn’t what else to do but comply and began frantically kissing the toe of her converse while continuing to clutch his bruised testicles and moan. As he slobbered on Sara’s sneaker he began to realize he was still hard despite the unbearable pain, and went from kissing to licking the rubber toe of Sara’s shoe.
“Good boy”
Sara cooed at him. She pulled her foot away from John’s face, putting it instead between his knees forcing them apart and pushing John onto his back.
“Move your hands, now!”
She ordered. John, horny and terrified obeyed. Sara slammed her right foot down onto John’s crotch, heel first, directly into his testicles, as hard as she could. She knew from the bulging erection in his pants exactly where is balls were. John gasped, and squealed and instinctively grabbed at Sara’s shoe in a futile attempt to protect his balls. But Sara kept her foot on his balls leaning her weight into them.
“Is this what you like John? Is it everything you’d imagined? You fucking pervert!”
As she said this, Sara began to roughly rub her foot forward and backwards on John’s hard cock through his pants, painfully rolling and crushing his balls with every stroke.
John’s balls were on fire. He thought for sure this woman, who he had just met earlier that same day, was castrating him. Destroying any chance he ever had of fathering children, or maybe even ever having sex. But at the same time John was more turned on than he had ever been in his short life. John stopped struggling, and instead tried to enjoy the feeling of the canvass and cold hard rubber of Sara’s sneaker in his hand, and the rough strokes of her sole against his cock, over the throbbing constantly agitated pain in his testicles.
Sara was transfixed. Standing over John, she felt powerful and sexy for the first time in ages, as she crushed this barely a young man’s gonads to a pulp under her converse. She switched her gaze back and forth from her foot in John’s crotch, his hand limply grasping her sneaker, to John’s face bearing what looked like a mix of horrified ecstasy and pain.
As she watched, John’s head tilted back, his eyes rolled back and his breathing became harder and fastEr. Sara could feel the twitching under her shoe as John ejaculated in his pants from the friction. As he did, Sara, not done yet, took advantage of John’s distraction, and quickly pulled her right leg up, her knee to her chest, and slammed the sole of her shoe into his balls again. Again, heel first, again dead center on his testicles. Again that sound somewhere between a thud and someone slapping a piece of meet echoed through the air.
As she did this John spurted his last rope of cum into his underwear and lurched upward for a moment to clutch his balls, his hand still blocked from doing so be Sara’s sneaker clad foot, before falling back, hands at his sides. He was too drained to even try to cradle his balls anymore. Or too scared of what he might find.
Sara walked over to the chair she had set aside and pulled over to John’s head. She sat down, crossed her leg so that the sole of her right sneaker, the one that had just destroyed John’s sexual organs, was positioned right over his face.
“Lick!”
She ordered. John complied, sticking his tongue out and licking every inch of the bottom of Sara’s converse. As he did, Sara thought to herself that John was gonna make a fine employee, and she was finally gonna have some well deserved fun for a while.
PART III: (unfinished)
As John laid on the floor in a post ejaculation trance, exhausted, licking the bottom of his work supervisor Sara’s converse, the endorphins from his orgasm began to fade, and the pain in his testicles began to grow. His testicles burned and aches deeply at the same time. They felt hot, and pulsed waves of pain through his body. His balls felt tight as though they were rapidly swelling, which they in fact were. John’s hips began to roll back and forth and his legs writhed as his body made futile attempts to somehow adjust itself to the pain.
The rising pain quickly overtook the fading pleasure and John pulled his tongue off the bottom of Sara’s shoe back into his mouth and he wretched. John then let out a soft moan.
“Oh.. no, no, uh, nn, oh no, my balls…”
Tears welled in John’s eyes as fear crept over him that he was permanently ruined sexually.
Sara watched with fascination from her chair. She began to feel a bit worried herself as her adrenaline faded and it dawned on her she may have just severely damaged this boy’s testicles. Sara, not sure if she believed it, said to John:
“You’re okay, you’re okay. I’ll be right back.”
Sara stood up from her chair and stepping over John waked to the kitchen to get John and ice pack, some water and ibuprofen. Even in his current state John couldn’t help but watch Sara walk away from his low vantage point, watching the soles of her converse appear and disappear and she walked. He couldn’t escape the morbid fascination of fixating in the instrument of his sexual destruction.
As Sara rounded the corner into the kitchen and out of view John laid on his side and curled tightly into the fetal position, hands dug between his legs but too scared to actually tough his testicles. He closed his eyes tightly and simply repeated “fuck, fuck, fuck” under his breath as glimpses of what a castrated life might be like flashed through his head. Why am I like this, he thought to himself. How could she do this to me, he thought. He could still taste the soles of converse on his tongue and lips.
…
Please let me know your thoughts.
