Balls. Gonads. Cajones, bollocks, jizzberries, betty swallocks, tea-baggers, nuts! If you have just escaped a religious cult and are baffled at my phraseology, I’m talking about testicles! Whatever you call them, they can be delicate little chaps. Perhaps that’s why some submissive men feel that the ultimate act of submission is to surrender their little conkers for punishment. Others, are simply masochists and find the intense pain from a kick to their balls exhilarating. It makes them feel alive.
Whatever their reasons, there’s something quite primal about administering a swift kick to the crown jewels of a willing participant. Perhaps it stems back to the Paleolithic era when consent was just a twinkle in God’s eye. Women would have had few choices when confronted with a randy, unwanted Homo erectus – flee or deliver a swift kick to the knackers and leave him howling on the floor, fodder for any passing Sabre-tooth cat. Our DNA doesn’t forget!
While some of these less civilised urges have been conditioned out of us and we wouldn’t dream of doing it in normal practise, there are plenty of kinksters who love to indulge in such activities in a safe space.
There are a few types of subs when ballbusting is concerned – the ‘gently, gently’ camp are most common. They enjoy a little nut-crushing but steer clear of anything too heavy.
Camp 2 are those who will send texts begging to have their balls obliterated but in person will flinch away from kicks – much to my amusement! They will also drop like gnats and practise the dying fly should they encounter anything more than a tap. With these types, rather than deliver a full swing I’ve become a Master of ‘the ballet tap.’ You raise your knee to waist height, holding it in position, then slowly lift the leg so the toe makes contact with their little Gollums. Any more than three in a row can have them flailing and eyeballing you in a terrified panic, drowning in erotism, yet collapsing towards the abyss of failure.
Camp 3 are a different breed. They are made of steel. Imagine the 5-foot wrestler that runs into the arena, ring giving it attitude. They know they will fall but they just don’t care. They will rest their hands on their heads or behind their backs in a relaxed manner, with a ‘give me all you got’ vibe. As the intensity increases, the groans may deepen, they may slightly bend at the waist with each strike but will soon straighten up upon command. Forget a steak and a pint, these sub’s idea of Heaven is to be pelted at full force, and relentlessly.
kenneth williams says oooh
The extremes in ballbusting fascinate me. When I was a baby domme, I had a sub visit for a ‘softer’ ballbusting session for a planned two hours. After a few pleasantries, I administered three toe taps as a warm-up to his fun bags. On the third tap, he ejaculated all over himself, got up, dressed and left with a smile.
On the opposite end of the spectrum, a friend and I met up with an ardent ball-busting fanatic. With staunch determination, he refused to even buckle at the knee. At one point, I employed the Chun-Lei street fighter kick, similar to the ballet tap but with faster, harder repetitions. I threw in a few Chun-Lei sound effects which seemed to activate my muscles and keep them going.
Towards the end of the visit, my friend took long run-ups to the target and delivered a karate-style kick. It was only at the end of the two hours, he dropped and said, “That’s me done, thank you Goddesses.”
More recently, I started training a dancer in the arts of femdom. We randomly met in a pub when she asked my buddy for a light and we got chatting. Before the evening was out, we’d swapped numbers and I had agreed to teach her. Us ADHDer’s always seem to find each other, but I digress, that’s another story!
I aimed to ease her in with some milder sessions and I asked how she felt about watching a ballbusting session. Without a blink, she said, “Can I join in please?”
The big day arrived with us dressed in our PVC and finery. After watching me tend to slave’s balls with a medley of pain and yet more pain, I turned to her with a smile and said, “Do you think you would like to have a go?”
Leaping up and down excitedly, she sang, “Oooh is it my turn now?” And so, it was.
To vanilla folk, it will sound like the most bizarre escapade and whenever I’ve mentioned it to non-kinky mates, they cringe and automatically cover their nether regions in sympathy. Kinky folk will understand, however how pain and pleasure can be two sides of the same coin, in the right environment.
Carl Jung spoke a lot of truth when he said we all have a shadow self. That dark part of our soul that is repressed but not obliterated by years of conditioning and reprogramming to be a civilised race. This is why kink is so popular. It allows many to embrace the dark shadows of their soul, balancing both sides of the soul. The beauty is that it’s done with a risk assessment/ safety analysis, and in a more controlled way. Perhaps this is part of our shadow work. Or perhaps, it’s just bloody good, old-fashioned British fun!
What are your thoughts? Have you ever been ball busted? Or does the mere thought have you running for the hilltops?
Just remember, keep it safe, make sure any medical conditions or medication are discussed beforehand, build up slowly and Red ALWAYS means stop. Consent is for everyone.
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