Freshman Balls

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Big Tits

This begins, as always, with a girl. No, scratch that, a woman. Freshman year of college. She had just graduated from high school, like me, like most of us in the class. Long, straight, black hair, creamy skin, a perfect smile, small dimples, ample chest, perfect legs, you name it, she had it. But that wasn’t why I stared at her, unlike the other guys in the class. I always stared at her heels.

Every day she wore a pair. She had twenty-seven. I know, because I counted each pair. And I analyzed them. Some had a wide back, and those were ok. I mean, I guess they made her legs look good. But there were a total of eight pairs I lived for. The stilettos.

When she wore them I could always feel myself grow hard. At them. At what they could do. I knew my tastes had always been a bit…different. And that was ok. I imagined, I could almost feel her, kneeing me in the balls. And then, when I was on the floor, placing one of those stilettos on one of my balls, and pressing down. Her laughter, my exquisite pain.

My grades in that class began to suffer. But I didn’t care. It took her a while to notice me. She would smile, and then even longer she noticed what I would stare at. Then she smiled and showed me her heels. Soon all she was wearing were the stilettos. I had to hide myself with a notebook. And then came the day.

I was walking back to my dorm. The shortest way was through an alley. I’d never thought about it before. Then one of my classmates grabbed me by the shoulder and spun me around.

“Hey, who do you think you are?” he demanded.

“Ex-excuse me?” I stammered. Someone poker oyna shoved me from the back into him.

“Yea, staring at her like that. You think you have a chance?” that one said.

I turned to look at him and the first one grabbed my arms and held me in place. The second one punched me in the stomach. I wheezed and coughed.

“You stay away from her,” and he drew his hand back. I braced myself as best I could.

And his hand stopped.

“I’m the one who decides that,” it was cold, but I would recognize the voice from anywhere. Her. This time she spun him around. I saw a glimpse of a shocked expression before he was facing her. Then, her knee went up into his groin. I couldn’t stop myself, my reaction. Why wasn’t that me?

He fell to the ground, clutching himself. She kicked him once more, on the ground. And then, luxuriously, spread him out. She kicked his hands away and placed one beautiful stiletto on his balls.

“I suggest you let go of him,” was all she had to say. I didn’t want him to let me go, I was trembling from the excitement.

“What the…” the one holding me started. But as he spoke the one on the ground screamed as she applied pressure. He let go and I fell to the ground. It was too much…too orgasmic.

It happened, right there on the ground, in an alley, as she pressed on his balls. I stayed there, replaying it over in my head. And then I felt her arms on me.

“You ok?” she asked. It took me a moment to find the words. I checked my pants. You couldn’t tell.

“Fine. That was…” I couldn’t find the right words to describe canlı poker oyna it. She helped me stand.

“I don’t think they will bother you again,” she was about to let go, but I couldn’t end the moment. I lightly clasped one of her hands.

“Do you do that often?” I asked. She paused.

“Protect the persecuted?” she responded weakly.

“No…the ballbusting,” and something different passed over her face. Something predatory.

“Did you like it?” she purred.

“Yes,” I answered hoarsely. She trailed one hand down my chest and under my pants. When she felt my stickiness from before she grinned. Her fingers found my left ball and squeezed. I gasped as the pain hit me.

“Do you want more?” she continued in my ear, pressing herself against me. There was no sense in hiding my reaction, she could feel it. I could only nod. Another squeeze, harder, and she let go. Her hand came out of my pants and she wiped it on my shirt.

“Come to my room tomorrow night. Nine,” and she walked off down the alley. It took me a few minutes to follow.

I didn’t go to any of my classes the next day. I couldn’t. At one point I got a text saying where her room was. That just made things worse. I was finally going to do it. I stroked myself up and down, imagining what she would do. And, at nine, I was on my way.

Some of the girls I passed by her room giggled and smirked. I must not be the only one she did this to. She knew what she was doing. That made everything even better. I knocked on the door. And then it swung open.

Candles lit the inside, casting shadows on what internet casino appeared to be a normal room. I stepped in, and once I was through the door closed. I felt her against me, one hand down my chest, the other unzipping my pants. When they were on the floor she grabbed my balls.

“You’re on time. I like punctuality. You shall be rewarded,” and she spun me around, keeping hold of my balls. Then I saw her. In class, I never could have imagined this is what lay beneath the surface.

Some would call her a dominatrix. I called her a predator. She shoved me down, and I saw her shoes. I had never seen them before. The heels were tiny, the toes were pointed. I gasped in anticipation.

“You like my shoes?” that same purr, and she moved her foot against me, gently so I was on my back. She rubbed that same foot against me, down my chest. And then, with no warning, slammed the toe into my balls. I couldn’t help but cry out. This…it was better than I imagined.

“Say it!” she snarled.

“I…I like your shoes,” I managed. She laughed.

“Good. What do you want me to do to you?” she asked. I couldn’t answer, how could I? And then the other foot slammed into my sore testicles.

“I ask, you answer,” the other foot. I moaned.

“B-b-ust my balls,” I said weakly. She laughed again and leaned down towards me, pressing herself, stroking my chest, my thighs.

“Are you sure?” she said in that same purr. I knew to answer this time.

“Y-yes,” and I gulped. She smirked, and then placed the heel of one of those beautiful stilettos on my right ball.

“Last chance,” and before I could say anything she pressed her weight on it. My world exploded with pain. I cried out and curled into a ball.

“Sorry, I got excited. Don’t worry, I know a good urologist,” and she was laughing.

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