It is in that moment before your beloved drops her balled-up fist with as much might as she can muster between your open legs and onto your exposed and oh-so-vulnerable testicles where you experience primal terror. All the evolutionary safeties, who would usually be screaming at your higher brain to stop and cover yourself, are quivering in fear in the dark little box into which you’ve locked them. Your heart flutters and you have to will your legs to stay apart…
Yesterday, after several rum rum drinks (strong enough for my face to get numb), I found myself sitting in the hot tub and asking Belle if she wouldn’t mind really hurting me. If she would be so kind as to hit me in the balls as hard as she could again and again. I’d say I had built up the courage to ask her to this, but as I said, rum drinks. I did have the wherewithal to further request that she not let me chicken out. This had to happen. Even now, after all I’ve shared with Belle, it’s hard sometimes to ask for the things I really need. And I needed this. I needed it bad.
So this morning, pretty much the first thing she said to me was, “Are you ready for me to punch you in the nuts?”
I cringed. The affects of the rum had long worn off, but I had had a restless night where pleasant tropical breezes wafting through my body hair along with hormonally charged dreams and an achingly hard penis I wasn’t allowed to touch had conspired to wake me several times. I held her close and left my hand on her beautiful curvy hip, but yeah, I cringed.
“Yes,” I replied quietly, “But I’m afraid.”
She reached down and wrapped one hand around my scrotum until its contents were held tight by the stretched skin and rubbed them with the other hand.
“Well, you need to roll over. I can’t hit you when you’re like this.”
So I found myself in that moment of fear. Of total vulnerability waiting for the thing I asked for, craved, but was dreading. She touched her target tenderly at first. The evolutionary safeties pointed out how nice that felt and asked why that couldn’t be enough for me. Shut up, safeties. This is hard enough without your meddling.
Then she hit me. Hard. But slightly missed her target. Still, it was enough to knock the wind from me for a moment and set my heart to pounding. This was for real. She was really going to let me have it.
The second time, she found her mark. My right nut took most of the blow. I gasped for breath and drew my knees up involuntarily. I let the initial wave of intense pain flow through me until I could uncoil and breath a bit. Then I let my legs fall apart. I could feel the scrotum laying open, my balls shifting inside. Then she hit me again.
Either she was swinging with more gusto or landed a little more efficiently, but this one made me see stars. My breath was locked in my chest. My legs came up again as my whole body seized and the pain from my crotch grew and grew and felt like it was going to eat me alive. God, why did I want this? What was I thinking?! Then, as fast as it had been created, the initial shockwave dissipated and I felt myself breath. The dull aching pain left behind radiated down my legs and into my stomach and felt…warm and comforting. I had barely recovered when I started to will my legs open again. I wanted more.
So she hit me again. And again. And again. The cycle repeating and my legs reopening a little more slowly each time, but not because I wanted it less. The fight between my inner kinky pain slut and those pesky evolutionary safeties from deep in my brainstem was escalating. They hadn’t broken out of their little box yet, but its hinges were straining. At least my fear was gone.
I don’t know how many times she punched my nuts, but it wasn’t enough. Or maybe it was because I was in no condition to decide. Whichever it was, I laid next to Belle, embracing her whole body, and felt the occasional aftershocks twinge through my tender balls and let the afterglow lay over me like a warm blanket.
Fucking hell, I wish she was still punching my nuts right now.