My Poor Balls: Chapter 15: The Hike (Leashed pulling, Kicking)

**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](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: Saturday: The Hike (Leashed pulling, Kicking)**

We were going camping on Saturday. We picked out a secluded place in the mountains that should allow us to be undisturbed. After packing, we drove a couple of hours to our selected area. Parked our car on a rural service road that nobody used, and gathering our gear, set off into the forest. 15 feet in, my wife abruptly stopped, and set her pack on the ground.

“Alright, get the balls out. Time to start our hike.” She said. We both lower our packs.

She produces a clothesline and ties a noose at one end. I remove my pants and underwear, and stow them in my pack, then put my shoes back on. With the noose completed, my wife hands me the rope, and I loop it around my testicles, making sure that when it tightens, it does so near the middle between the balls.

She measures about 30 inches, and ties a loop in the other end, which she loops through a carabiner on her pack, and then stuffs the excess rope in a pocket of the pack. Meanwhile, I put my pack back on my back.

From a pocket she produces a set of Zip tie cuffs, and I turn to allow her to fix my wrists behind my back. This is an important step for hiking, as I tend to ‘cheat’ by using my hands to reduce the suffering of the balls.

“OK. On your knees. Let’s test these hiking boots.”

I kneel, spread my legs and make my tied balls as vulnerable as possible.

“Ready?” I nod.

She kicks me aggressively in the balls. The first kick is agonizing, as usual. My breath catches in my throat. “One” I stammer out.

She kicks me again. I struggle and briefly lose position before regaining it. “Two” I say.

One more kick, significantly harder than the first two. I fall to my side, feeling the nausea rising.

Seeing my reaction, she is quick to take advantage of the opportunity. “OK, let’s get going. I’d like to get 1.5 miles in before we setup our tent.” She shoulders her pack, pulling roughly on the rope tied to my balls, and then walks away, which jerks my balls painfully. “Quit being lazy!” She scolds as I struggle to my feet. She jerks again painfully just as I get one leg under me, and I struggle not to fall forward before finally surging to my feet in time to avoid much of the force of the final jerk.

She starts off at a brisk pace, which is challenging for me as I haven’t had a chance to overcome the nausea of the 3rd kick. My balls hurt terribly, denied a refractory period, and were bound to a rope that consistently jerks and pulls them.

Matching her stride is challenging because the terrain isn’t level, and I’m not able to use my arms for balance. She pays no heed and encourages me to pick up the pace through a constant painful pull on my sensitive balls.

Just as I finally adapt to the situation, I find myself able to keep up more successfully with less tension held against my testicles. I speed up a bit too much and bump into her, shoving her forward so that she nearly stumbles.

Abruptly she turns around, which jerks painfully on the rope tied to my nuts. Fearful of the consequences, I plead, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“What are you doing?!” she scolds. “You were trying to reduce the pain felt by those balls, weren’t you?!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry” I plead.

“Why would you try to reduce the suffering of those weak balls?” She asks.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t trying to.”

“You were.” she accuses. “Who gets to decide how much the balls hurt?”

“You do. You do.” I say, repeating our rule.

“OK, then.” She says and starts to go, then has an inspiration. “If you do it again, I’m going to take off my pack here, and you are going to have to drag it by those little wussy balls the rest of the way to the campsite.”

“I won’t.” I promise. But she has already turned about, and resumed her march. A sharp tug on my balls, and I’m off.

I spent the next 30 minutes carefully trying to keep tension on my testicles so that we have a steady distance between us, but the ground was not flat, and I was often unsuccessful, leading to frequent agonizing jerks. Thankfully, I never bumped into her again.

Abruptly, when I least expect it, my wife announces, “OK, let’s take a brief break.” She casually shrugs off her pack, and as it falls to the ground, it pulls me forward off balance. I pull back as hard as I can to avoid falling into her, and my bound genitals suffer more.

Making a show of paying no heed to me or my suffering testicles, she reaches down to untether her canteen, and then casually sits on a nearby fallen tree. She takes a few sips while I struggle to catch my breath.

After a few sips, she gestures to me at the canteen. “Come on over here. You look parched.” she says.

I eye the 7 feet that separate us. It’s much farther than my testicle tether will allow. I summon my gumption and grit my teeth before taking steps towards her. The pack is impossibly heavy, and it pulls terribly on my abused gonads as I struggle inch after inch to close the distance.

As I near her, she holds the canteen farther away, so I have to struggle for another 10 or so inches, eventually ending very close to her.

“OK,” she announces, and holds the canteen up at the end of her reach.

I raise my mouth to it, and she tips it to give me a sip. Meanwhile, her attention is elsewhere as her right hand reaches out to cradle my balls. “Oh! They are so cold,” she says with interest.

I take a break from sipping to say, “Yes, they’ve been bound for a while now.” Then I lean in to drink a bit more.

As I drink, she tightens her grip, crushing my vulnerable testicles cruelly. I sputter, and can’t swallow.

She asks with concern, “Are they numb?”

“No,” I assure her. “They hurt terribly.”

“That’s good,” she says in a good natured sing-song voice.

With drinking done, I take a seat next to her on the log, which requires another painful 3” of dragging her pack.

“Don’t worry about the balls getting too cold. We’ll make sure they get nice and warm by the campfire tonight.” She assures me pleasantly, while my mind fills with terror over what fate awaits my genitals that evening. I say nothing, and we sit in silence for a minute or two.

She breaks the silence. “You know, I think I’m being a bit unfair…”

It’s a trap. I know it is a trap.

“We’ve been hurting those nuts for an hour or so, and you are getting all the stimulation.” She stands up, and drops her pants and panties, then slides off her boot to join me in our bottomless hike.

She puts her boots back on, then lays her pants across the far end of the tree trunk before sitting back down and spreading her legs. “OK then, I’m ready,” she says.

I sigh before struggling to tow her pack, still affixed to my testicles. The brief rest has weakened my balls, and at first they don’t have it in them to move the pack. The 2 feet needed to close the distance so that my mouth can find her sweaty pussy. Eventually, I struggle to find my spot, and give her cunnalingus while my testicles are tightly tied and stretched behind me like a pair of disfigured plums.

As she orgasms, she pulls me forward to increase the strain on my nuts. I’m still wearing my pack, and nearly lose my balance, but thankfully the leverage of my pulled balls doesn’t let me fall forward, and eventually I recover.

After an orgasm and a few aftershocks, she was satisfied.

She coos, “Alright, bring that penis over here.” Then spits into her hand.

Moving my penis within reach is another tortuous journey for my tied balls, but I am so eager that I move quickly.

Once she can reach, she grabs my penis and strokes it while counting. “1...2...3”. Then she lets it go just as it is starting to harden. She grabs the cockhead with 2 fingers to pull it out of the way, while rearing back and punching me solidly in the testicles. I fall to the ground. Making animal noises.

“That would have been 15 strokes, and a softer punch if you hadn’t run into me earlier.” She scolds. “Let’s get going.”

I struggle to my knees as she casually pulls her pack back onto her shoulders. Then, as I’ve just gained my feet, she takes off briskly, and I’m pulled behind her with my suffering testicles leading the way. I’m too distracted struggling to keep up lest my balls get torn off that I barely have time to ogle her shapely butt and hips as they lead me.

15 more minutes of agony, and we make it to a site she deems sufficient for our tent. She flops her pack to the ground again and takes a pair of shears to untie my hands.

One ordeal over, how many more await my precious man parts on this camping trip?

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Kudos to r/smasher6446 who helped me edit this story. I'm hoping he will edit another one or two, so I can keep posting. I'll try to post about once a week.