knee_girl

 

Busting My Stalker (by Malicia Paine)

Busting My Stalker Copyright © 2016 Malicia Paine

It's any girl's worst fear. To be alone in her home when a strange man comes in to take control of her. To do god-knows-what to her. Lucky for me, I'm not just any girl. I know how to defend myself, and let me tell you, it isn't that difficult. There's just one rule: go for the groin. That's how you take a male attacker down. Men try to downplay the effect it has on them, but make no mistake about it girls, when your foot connects with his sweet spot, he'll crumple like a sack of potatoes. This is the story about how I made a would-be attacker my bitch. It was about 3AM, and I was alone in my bachelor apartment. I live in a brownstone just off Lexington. I'd fallen asleep on top of the covers of my bed. My laptop computer was still playing a loop of music on Youtube. I was wearing angora socks and cotton panties underneath an oversized men's large Stanford T-shirt. The T-shirt belonged to my ex, one of the many things he left behind when he left me several months ago, for my best friend—who lived just down the hall—of all people. It left me feeling pretty alone, not to say bitter. Don't get me wrong—I don't want you to think I was wearing his T-shirt because I couldn't get over him. Well, maybe there was a little of that. But really, it was just very cozy, and there's nothing I feel more comfortable in than an old oversized T-shirt, a snug pair of cotton panties and a nice pair of fluffy angora socks. I'd wear them everywhere, all day, if I could. So there I was, asleep in my bed, my laptop open and blaring, when little did I realize, a man had crept into my apartment through the window I'd left open. I'd left it open because it was hot, and my asshole ex-boyfriend took the damn air conditioner with him when he left me. Even though I was the one who paid for it. The fucker. Boy I still wanna just mash that fucker's balls good… Anyway, I found myself being rudely awakened, vaguely aware of the feeling of a pair of hands pulling my arms behind me. Then there was this clicking sound, and the feel of cold metal against my wrists. But it hadn't quite hit me yet what was going on. I was still halfway between dreaming and the waking world. Then I realized, to my horror, that my hands were shackled behind me, and I wasn't alone in my apartment. I turned to see a well-muscled, and quite large man kneeling above me, his face concealed by a black balaclava. My first instinct was to scream. It was stifled by a hand being placed over my mouth, and I could feel his cock through his pants, hard and already grinding into my naked thigh. "Shh, shh," he said in a whisper. "I don't want to have to hurt you." My second instinct was to cry. I'd never been in a situation like this before, and my emotions were a mess. "No, no, don't cry," he said, weirdly totally un-aggressive all of a sudden. "I won't hurt you if you behave. Are you going to behave?" I nodded, and he took his hand off my mouth. He went fishing around in the black bag he'd brought with him for something else. "Who are you?" I asked. God knows why. Like I said, I was scared and still stunned from sleep. There was a part of me that hoped this wasn't real. Or that it was my ex and he was back to play tricks on me. My ex and I had played a few bondage role-playing games in our time. But I knew somehow this couldn't be him. This guy was too big. Especially in his pants…my god it felt huge, grinding into me. He turned to me with the object he'd pulled out of his bag, which appeared to be a big red ball-gag. "No names, sweetness," he said. "In fact. Maybe it's best if you don't talk at all. Now open wide." "Wait," I urged, remembering some advice I'd read about. Try talking to your attacker. Meet his eyes and try to get him to realize you're a human being. I figured this guy seemed sympathetic enough. "Please," I said. "My name is Laura. Laura Polanski. I go to Stanford, and if you'd just talk to me—no—please—mmfff!" Between my hands being locked in handcuffs behind me, and his vastly superior size, despite all my protests, he forced the gag into my mouth and fastened it with ease. "All right, Laura," he said, using my name in an oddly warm tone. "Have it your way." He ran a gentle hand along my cheek. "You got a pretty name, Laura," he said. "Almost as pretty as your face." Well that was thoroughly creepy, I thought. Flattering but creepy. Then he went back to his bag and fished around for something else. A knife! Panic overtook me, and I began to struggle and squirm and shriek into my gag. Then he grabbed the shirt and began slicing it open, until he'd sliced the whole front open, leaving my breasts bare. Then he tore the rest of my shirt away to look at me. "My god, Laura, you're so hot," he said, sounding in genuine amazement. Normally that's the kind of thing a girl likes to hear. But not in this case. Not like this. He began palming at my breasts, pinching them a little. Which hurt. I yelped and glowered at him while he continued to grope me. Then one of his hands slid downwards towards my panties. Then he slipped them inside and I could feel his fingers running along the lips of my pussy. "Jesus, Laura, you're so wet," he said. "You're like a swamp down there. I can tell you want it." "Mo," I muffled through my gag. I was turned on. That was true. But that didn't mean I wanted it. Not like this. God, I was so scared! He pushed me down onto the bed, and I knew that in just a few more seconds, he would be pumping his cock inside me. I was about to be raped. It's not like I couldn't imagine this happening to me. This wasn't new to me. I've always known about this kind of thing happens all the time. Since I was a girl. And ever since. Just about everything in news media and popular culture warns us this can happen. And that it does happen. And yet there, in the moment, it still didn't seem real. And it was about that moment that I realized this rape threat was actually quite real. And I didn't want to be raped. Not here. Not now. Not by him. Not by anyone. Not ever. I didn't know his exact plan, but I knew it wouldn't end well for me. He would either take a long time, leaving me feeling raw and empty inside. Or he would come in seconds. Either way, then he would decide what to do with me afterwards. And it wouldn't be good. He wore a mask—that was a good sign, since it meant he didn't want me recognizing him afterwards. Or maybe he was just one of those cowards who couldn't handle the idea of a woman looking back at him, even she's naked, much smaller, bound, and obviously helpless. Was he afraid? Or was he a psycho who would choke me during. Or after. Would I survive this? A part of me decided that I had to. Then he climbed off of me. He unbuckled his pants, and dropped them to the floor, letting free his massive, throbbing erection. My god it was huge… "Come here," he said. I struggled to get myself up out of the bed, welcoming the small amount of agency he'd just given me. I briefly contemplated making a run for it. But I knew I'd never make it out the window or the door. Not with my hands shackled like this. So I approached him cautiously, and stopped about three feet from him. I looked down. His cock was big. Did I say that already? Well, it was too big. It was going to hurt if he put it inside me. I didn't even think I could take it. I just stared transfixed at the massive cock in awe. He eyed me up and down "We are going to have such a good tonight," he said. He noticed me staring at his massive cock, and he smiled. "Look," he said. "Don't look so scared, all right? You're like…everything I ever wanted. I've no intention of hurting you. Maybe if you just accept that this is happening to you, maybe you'll have a good time too." I looked down again at the cock that I knew would be too big to fit and too painful to imagine. He just laughed, seeming to relish in all the power he had over me, savoring the moment before he would ravish me, tearing into me, ruining me forever. It all just made me so…fucking…mad! I looked down at the large pulsating beast that he planned to invade my nethers with. Then I looked at the dangling scrotum below. Then back at the beast of a cock that had me so afraid. Then at the dangling balls that reminded me I had a perfect target if I needed to defend myself. Suddenly, a lot of my training came flooding back to me. Now I was alert. Hyper-alert. I needed to keep my wits about me if I expected to save myself now. Now, a lifetime of ballet, and an adolescence of aerobics and kickboxing training would kick in, so-to-speak. Now was the moment I could use it all to take my life back. I had three distinct advantages right now. The first, I can kick incredibly hard. And fast. The second, he doesn't know I can kick that hard. The third is that he seemed very distracted by my mostly naked body, clad only in my socks and panties. He probably thought he was safe. But he was wrong. I thought back to my training. I was paired up with a really large guy in kickboxing once who told me to just go nuts. No pun intended. He said a girl my size couldn't hurt him. Not really. So we sparred for a little, and I was kicking to the best of my ability, and he'd been right that I wasn't too much of a threat to him. That was, until I accidentally connected with his groin. That had been a freak accident of course, and even then, he'd collapsed in a groaning heap of pain. For the next half hour of class, he just lay there moaning, while the other guys in class winced, instinctively clutching their own privates, and while the other girls all giggled a little. Why do we girls weirdly think this glaring weakness in the male anatomy is funny? Well, maybe it's only fair, consider we also have to live in constant fear of situations like the one I found myself in now. I needed more than a lucky hit this time though. I needed a direct hit. And for that, I needed a distraction. Luckily, he was pretty distracted already. I knew I only had one chance to make this work. I looked behind him, and then spoke as clearly as I could, "Oh, fank gob," I said, like I was making eye contact with someone there who could save me. "Fop him! Pweave fop him!" There wasn't anyone there of course. It was a ruse. I was just going to have to save myself. He got a look of sudden panic and turned his head. Then I took a breath, channeled all the fear and anger he'd build up in me. I channeled all that pent up rage I had at my ex too, treating this man's groin as a surrogate. I channeled all of that rage and all my strength into a single wind-up and ran at him and kicked up into his dangling testes. At the last moment, just as my angora-clad foot connected with his privates, he was turning back, giving me a quizzical expression. At first, we locked eyes, and I had another moment of panic, thinking it somehow hadn't worked. But then he cupped his hands over his balls and began sinking to the ground. "Ooo…you…bitch…" he groaned. Then he balled up on the ground, and began moaning, until it tapered off. I got ready to start kicking him while he was on the ground. But I quickly realized that wouldn't be necessary. I realized he'd actually just passed out! I had just kicked a field goal, and scored a touchdown.

****

I realized I didn't have a lot of time. I didn't want him to come to while I was still cuffed, or I might have trouble getting away this time. I'm not really sure why I didn't just run to the neighbors to get them to call the police. I guess I decided that this was personal, and I wanted revenge. I scrambled to find the keys in his bag of rape supplies. My hope was they'd be in there, though as I kicked the bag to the floor and spread the contents around with my sock feet, it occurred to me that he might not have planned to ever let me go, and every precious second I spent searching, here alone in my apartment with him, is another in which he could get up and make me really regret what I'd just done. I was wrong about that, though. Sure enough, there was a key here, though there were also more manacles—larger ones, presumably those would have been for my feet. I knelt down, and quick as I could, I unlocked my hands. Moments later, I was free. I was still naked but for my socks and panties, but I was free. I still had a decision to make. I could grab a jacket and pants and get the hell out of there. Maybe grab my cell phone, run down to the street and call the police from the safety of the street. Well, safety is relative I supposed, but brightly lit as it was, with steady traffic even in the dead of night, it wouldn't be terribly easy for a man to grab me and stuff me into a car or drag me kicking and screaming back to my apartment or whatever. Besides, if he started something with me now, he'd find I was quite the ferocious adversary, and something told me he would be fearing for his balls whenever he went near another woman from now on. But I could also—if I was fast enough—handcuff him and keep him here until the police came. Of course, there was always a chance he could just lie his way out of that. After all, he hadn't actually managed to rape me, and I didn't have a scratch on me. He, on the other hand would have quite the bruise on his testicles. They already looked a bit red from the one kick I'd just delivered. I decided not to waste any more time and handcuffed his hands behind him. If he came to, I didn't want to have to fight a man his size, with his build. I mean, his shirt was still on, but from his legs, and the way his pectorals bulged in his shirt, you could tell he was ripped. I could still probably take him, with another precision strike to his delicate unmentionables, but I wasn't about to take any chances. I shackled his hands behind him, and for good measure, I also took the ankle-cuffs and shackled his feet together. Then I got my phone, and got ready to call the cops. Only then did I realize I was still gagged, so I scrambled to take it off. Then I got ready to dial the cops. But something still stopped me. I don't know why, but I just wanted a few more moments to think about what to do. For the first time, my body wasn't flooded with fear. My heart was still pumping, to be sure, but now it was different. Looking down at my new captive, I was suddenly feeling just a little…I don't know…aroused, I guess. There was no denying that this guy was hot. It made me wonder why he felt he'd even need to crawl through my window to…well, do whatever it was he'd planned to do. Maybe there was no easy answer to this. Rapists rape because they choose to, not because they have to. It was kind of a shame, really. Horrifying to be sure, but also kind of a shame. I couldn't help but thinking…if a guy with his body had just asked me, rather than trying to tie me up and take me by force, well, who knows what could have been… It all made me so mad! And now I really wanted to see the fucker's face. I wanted him to look back at me with the fear he'd made me look at him with. Maybe I'd threaten to cut off his balls, just to see his reaction, before calling the cops. I pulled off his balaclava, hoping I wouldn't find, to my horror, that he was a friend. Luckily, he didn't seem to be. He looked vaguely familiar, but I didn't really know him. Was the attack random, or had he been stalking me for awhile? He knew enough that I was alone, so he must have been stalking me at least for a little while. He was actually pretty cute, all things considered. And oddly, he looked pretty innocent, unconscious and half-naked like that on the floor of my apartment. He was, of course, most certainly not innocent. And I was going to make him answer for what he did to me—or tried to do to me, anyway. I was still so fucking mad at him. But I also…somehow…lusted for him! And that also made me mad! I went back to the bag he'd brought with him, to find a weapon to threaten him with. To my relief, he hadn't brought any other knives with him, or any implements of torture for that matter. That was good, I supposed. He'd still had the one knife. Was that just to cut my clothes away? Or just to scare me? It certainly did scare me. But I hadn't been harmed, and as I sifted through his other things, I realized to my amusement that he hadn't brought things to torture me with—not in a bad way, anyway—so much as other toys to use on me. He'd brought a vibrating dildo with him, as well as one of those magic wands. There were also some adjustable nipple clamps here, some gels and massage oils, some lube, some condoms, and oddly enough, some whipped cream. Kinky stuff to be sure, but nothing horrifying. It seemed oddly kinda sweet, albeit in an overly creepy way. Who was this guy? And that's when I decided. I wasn't calling the cops. I'd deal with him myself. I was in total control now, after all. I wasn't sure how far things would go. I wouldn't kill him, obviously. I couldn't. That much I knew. I just don't have that in me. But I would make him pay, and he would be sorry. I'm not really sure why I did it. I guess in part it was because I hadn't gotten laid in awhile. Maybe I was still mad at my jerk ex, and this poor guy would become his patsy, and the target of all my unspoken aggressions…and my unfulfilled lust. I went back over to my laptop and closed the window that was open to Youtube. Now, remember when I said I'd left music playing on Youtube? Well, that was kind of a lie. It was actually on a ball-busting porn channel. There, I admitted it. I have kind of a perverse obsession, you see. Something about watching women hit men in the groin or grab and squeeze their balls and make them cry and beg for mercy makes my pussy wet. And something about actually doing it, well, even more so… Anyway, I put on some actual music, for the ambience, and then took the knife, and then tucked it into the strap of my panties. Then I got kind of a wicked idea. I went to my kitchen and got a long ball of string, and then came back and wrapped it round and around his balls, isolating them in a little makeshift leash, tying it off in a tight knot, and then cutting it off at a good length with his bowie knife. Then I just waited for him to come to, now that I had him—quite literally—by the balls. As I sat there, I became more and more aroused, in part because of how helpless he was at my mercy like this, and in part because I just couldn't shake how hot he was. It was getting me more than a little bothered. I couldn't help myself. I just reached down into my panties and started playing with myself. Just for a little bit, I decided. I just really needed a bit of sexual release after what I'd just gone through. I began panting faster and faster, getting more exited, looking down at him. Seconds later, I was having an orgasm. My body flooded with endorphins, and I couldn't help but laugh a little. What the hell had gotten into me? Then, slowly, my former attacker started to open his eyes. "Good, you're awake," I said. He looked around drunkenly, and then let out a groan like he was feeling sick to his stomach. I realized his balls probably still hurt quite a bit after a hit like that. I don't think I've ever kicked a man that hard anywhere, let alone there. And I once accidentally hit my brother in the groin when lightly tossing him the TV remote. He covered his groin and whimpered and whined for five whole minutes! And that was nothing! I can't imagine having a body part just hanging down there that's that sensitive! That would be such a hassle! And my would-be rapist here had been hit way harder. And then there's all that aforementioned porn I admit I've been watching. I saw one video where a dominatrix was lightly tapping her tied-up guy's balls with a wooden spoon. And he'd just about been screaming into his gag. Already, I was getting wet thinking about the possibilities of fun things I could do with this guy. But for now, I tried to get control of myself and keep a straight face. He looked down at the string tied around his ball-sack, pulled taut by my hand, and then at the knife in my other hand. His knife. Then he looked at my face, and saw my—presumably disturbingly smug—wicked grin. He immediately thrashed against his shackles, but quickly realized he wouldn't be able to get his hands or his feet in to help him now. "Shh, shh," I hushed, mocking sincerity, and tugging on the line around his balls. "I don't want to have to hurt you. I think I've already demonstrated I know how to hurt you a great deal." He looked like it was his turn to cry, looking back and forth between my grin, his bound balls, and the knife. "Don't," he said. "Please don't." "What is it you don't want me to do?" I said patiently. "Please don't…please don't cut me or anything." "You're afraid of something a lot more specific, aren't you?" I grinned at him, and he just looked back in terror. I was just playing with him of course, but boy was I enjoying all this power. I was getting pretty wet by all this. "Please don't cut off my balls," he whimpered. "Well what is a girl supposed to do?" I said. "I can't let you go." "Yeah you can," he urged. "No, of course I can't," I said. "I can't trust you." "Yeah…you can…" "No. I can't. You broke into my apartment and handcuffed me while I was asleep. You've already demonstrated that I can't trust you. And if I were you, I'd be saying just about anything to save my own balls." "Please don't…" he whimpered. He was so pathetic. It was really empowering. Never in my wildest dreams would I ever have thought I'd have this much control over a man his size. Especially not one this hot. I could do anything I wanted to, and he couldn't stop me. He couldn't even go to the police if he did eventually get away. What would he say? I tried to rape her and she punished me? Now there's a laugh. There's something New York's finest could all have a good laugh about. "Shh," I hushed again, approaching him brandishing the blade. "Just let it happen." "Don't," he cried, shutting his eyes and cringing. I began cutting away at the shirt he'd worn. Then he opened one eye and noted what I was doing. "Oh, you thought I was just going to cut your nuts off without getting a better look at you first?" I giggled. I winked at him. He looked a little relieved. Still on his guard, but a little relieved. When I was done cutting through his jersey, I discarded the shreds. Now he was magnificently stark naked. "God damn," I said, biting my lip with lust. "You're pretty hot yourself, stud." "Uh…thanks?" "So why the fuck did you have to be a rapist?" I snapped. "I don't know," he said. "I'm sorry. Really, I'm sorry." "I'll bet you're sorry," I said. "I am too. Because now you've left me with a really unfortunate dilemma." "What dilemma?" "Well what to do with you, of course." "Well…I mean…you could untie me and we could talk." I burst into laughter. "That's funny," I said. "You're a funny guy, um…what is your name anyway?" "James," he said. "James, huh? Is that your real name?" "Yeah." "Because if you're lying to me, I'm taking it out on your balls." I made a fist. "No, no, wait…look…I've got my ID in my pants." I raised a suspicious eyebrow at him, and then got up and went to check his pants. Sure enough, he had a wallet in there, complete with a driver's license, a credit card, a bank card, a library card of all things, and several other specialty cards. I read the name on the license. "James Brody?" "Yes." I shook my head. "What kind of idiot attempts a rape with all this ID on him?" "Please," he said. "I've never done this before." I dropped the ID. "Horseshit," I said. "How many women have you raped, James Brody?" I tugged on his balls and brought the knife close to them. "Please," he cried, "I swear to god I've never…I've never raped anyone before…this is the first time…the first time I ever…" "Shh…" I hushed. "Don't lose your shit just yet. I still haven't decided what to do with you. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. You've never raped anyone. Yet. But you were going to rape me, right? Or were you having second thoughts? Be honest." He looked me up and down. "You would have raped me, wouldn't you?" "Yes," he admitted. I smiled. "Well, at least I know you're being honest about that. So, James, here's the million dollar question. Why me?" "Because…because…" "Spit it out or I swear to god I'll hit you in the balls so hard you see stars." "Because you're so hot," he said. "Well…that is pretty flattering," I said. "But that still doesn't answer my question. How did you find me? How do we know each other? How much do you know about me?" "I don't…really know much about you at all. I saw you through the window at your gym every evening on my way home. It's…it's about a two minute walk from my gym, and you're just getting started when I get finished." "So…you're one of the monkeys from Lou's gym." "Yeah, that's right," he said. I fished through his wallet again, and sure enough, there was his membership card. "Okay," I said. "So you saw me through the window." "Yeah." "Presumably wearing tights and my sports bra." "Yeah." "That still doesn't explain how you knew where I lived." "One night…I waited in the shadows, and I…well, I followed you." "Huh," I said. "And were you watching me in my apartment too?" I tugged at his nuts again. He let out a desperate groan. "Yes!" he said. "For how long?" He gave me a reluctant look. I slapped him in the balls. "Ah! A month! About a month!" "A whole month, huh? I can't tell if that's restraint on your part, or if I should be angry you were too chicken-shit to try this sooner." The truth was, I hadn't gotten laid in almost three months. There was a part of me that would have welcomed him in. Assuming he hadn't been a rapist, of course. Which he was. The attention would be so flattering. Especially from a guy this hot. Why couldn't he have just been…more normal? "Why the hell couldn't you have just asked me out like a normal guy, James?" "I don't know, Laura," he whimpered. "Like a normal guy would…I don't know. Do what you guys normally do. You see a girl you like. You spy on her a bit. That's cool. But then you figure out where she likes to read…and what she likes to read. And then you get the same book and arrange to accidentally be there in that spot reading when she next comes along. Then it seems sweet. Spontaneous. Romantic. Sure it's all staged. I'm not stupid. But at least that would have been sweet. This? What you did—almost did—to me tonight? I shouldn't have to tell you, James. That's fucked up." "I know. I'm sorry," he said. "You will be," I said. "What are you going to do?" "That all depends on you, James," I said. "Like I said, you've presented me with a dilemma." "What do mean by that?" "Well…I should just turn you over to the cops. I should just call them, and tell them what happened. That's what I know I should do. And—and I think this is very generous on my part—you've got no idea how badly I'd like to hurt you right now. But I'm not you, James. I'm not going to hurt you against your will. If you want me to turn you in, that's what I'll do." I let that sink in for a moment. I looked at him. I could tell the gears were turning in his head. "What else did you have in mind?" he said. "I'll give you two more alternatives, James. Because really, when you get beneath it all, I'm actually a very nice girl. That's what I was trying to tell you before you gagged me. I'm a girl, with feelings. Though I can be a very cruel mistress too. But I also have a conscience. Regardless of which option you choose. I'll let you go without calling the cops. But I'll have to make sure you'll never hurt another girl again. I wouldn't be a very nice girl if I just let a rapist go free to wreak havoc on the world, now would I?" He just stared. So I yanked on the string around his nuts to get a response. "Would I?" I snapped. "Ungh…no!" "So?" "So…what did you have in mind?" he groaned. "I keep you here for a little while. You'll let me shackle you to my bed, and I'll have some fun with you exploring a private fantasy of mine." "And what fantasy is that?" "Ball-busting," I said, the words themselves stirring something in my pussy, causing it to moisten. He looked suddenly totally terrified. "Don't worry, lover. I won't literally destroy your balls. Only bring you to the brink of how much pain you think you can stand. And then beyond. But you'll keep your boys. At times you might even be begging me to take them from you. But don't worry, lover. If you just lay back and accept what's happening to you, you might even enjoy yourself." I winked. He gulped. "What's the second option?" he asked. "I castrate you. Right now. It's the only way I can be sure I'm keeping my fellow women safe." "You're joking, right?" I tugged at his nuts and then held up the knife. "Do I look like I'm joking?" "No," he said. "Good. You're not as stupid as you look. Now make a decision."

****

I giggled as I knelt above my captive, clad in my angora socks and cotton panties, and brandishing the bowie knife he'd brought with him. I admired his naked body, and all his chiseled muscles as he strained against the handcuffs that held his hands behind him, and the ankle-cuffs that held his feet together. And then there was the little noose I'd tied around his balls, allowing me to pull at them. And they were reddening all the time. I was getting so wet just looking at him, and musing about the things I wanted to do with him. I certainly knew what decision I wanted him to make. "I don't want you to take my balls," he whimpered. "Good boy," I said, biting my lip. "A stud as hot as you—that really would be a waste now, wouldn't it? So…that leaves the cops, or me. Whose custody do you want to remain in?" I stood and gave him a sultry pose, running a finger along my tits, biting my lower lip and flashing him my bedroom eyes. Come on, James. Make the right decision. He still didn't answer. "The cops then," I said, and began dialing. "No, wait!" "Yes?" "I…don't want you calling the cops." "So you've decided to stay with me then." He gave me a reluctant look. "You won't…cut anything off me? Or anything like that?" "That depends on your answer, James. So…which is it? Me? Or the cops?" "Please, I'm…I'm scared, Laura." "You don't trust me!" I said, smiling at the realization. I tugged the string binding his balls, forcing his pelvis up into the air. Then I slapped his balls with my other hand. He let out a pathetic yelp. "Well now you know how I felt a few moments ago, James. Tied, and at your mercy. How did you think that made me feel?" "Not very good?" he essayed. "No, James. Not at all. So? Am I calling the cops or not?" "Don't call them," he whimpered, bracing himself for the worst. I smiled, feeling a surge of power. Now I had a totally hot naked guy completely at my mercy. And the best part was, whatever I do to him, he'll feel he deserves it. My pussy went wild with desire for this stud. Even if he was a rapist. There was no denying he was hot. But the whole begging thing was killing the mood, so I decided to quiet him. I went to the bag and took out the gag, and held it in front of his face. "Open," I said. "Wait," he started. "Wait, Laura, I'm a person too. I'm a nice guy—ungh!" I responded by yanking on his testes, and he let out a pathetic yelp. Then I closed my hand around his reddening scrotum and gently gave him a little squeeze. His face went white. "You'll open your mouth, or you'll see just how hard I can squeeze." "But Laura—" I squeezed. It wasn't my hardest, but he let out a pathetic groan and immediately opened his mouth. Then I took to gagging him tightly with the ball-gag. "There," I said. "Now we can get started on your punishment." "My wha—?" he mumbled, muffled by the gag. "You didn't think you were going to get away scot-free, did you?" The question was rhetorical, but I waited for an answer just the same. "Did you?" I snapped, slapping him in the balls again. "Mo," he whimpered with a shake of his head. "Good," I said. I leaned in close to his face, tugging his balls tightly with one hand while running the other gently along his cheek. "So we're on the same page." I left time for him to respond again. He nodded, like a good trained boy. "Good boy," I said. "Now…tell me…" I leaned back, not fully releasing his balls from the tension, but back enough so I could sit and put my socked foot in his face. "What do you think of my angora socks? Do you like them?" He nodded. "They're really comfy. Same as the cotton panties. That's why it's my favorite thing to wear to bed, you see." I gently ran my socked foot along his face, and under his nose. "Smell it," I said. He did so, making an exaggerated sniffing sound. "Do you like the way they smell?" He nodded. "Do you like the way they feel on your skin?" He nodded again. But he looked totally terrified. So I gave him a knowing smile. "You know James, this whole place," I said, gesturing around us. "My apartment. This is my comfort zone. It's where I go to feel safe, and it's where I come to be alone. Then you took that away from me. That wasn't very nice, was it?" He looked at me expectantly. "Was it," I snapped, pulling his balls out by the string and then smacking them hard with my open hand. "Mo," he whined, shaking his head. "So, James, we're going to have to find a fitting punishment for you, aren't we? Aren't we!" Whap! "Ugh," he whimpered. "Answer me!" Whap! "Yef!" he groaned. "Good boy. Now…" I began, getting to my feet. "Stand up." He struggled a bit, helplessly, as if making a show of how hard it was to get up with his feet shackled together and his hands cuffed behind his back. So I helped him along by tugging up on his balls. He moaned, but clumsily stumbled to his feet. "So, James, here's the deal. You and I are going to have a bit of a work out. You know, just like you used to like watching me do. In fact…I know what will cheer you up. How about I put on my sports bra? You know, the one you like spying on me in. You perv!" I let his balls go for the moment, letting the string drop between his legs, giving his balls a bit of a break. I went to my dresser and took out a sports bra and put it on. "There," I said, doing a pirouette. "How do I look?" "Goob," he said through the gag. I looked down at his monstrously huge cock. "Mmm, I can tell," I said. "Look at that thing. I mean…I don't want this to go to your head or anything, but that thing is huge. You have the biggest cock I've ever seen." It seemed to grow as I spoke about it. And I savored the look of longing he gave me as he eyed my body. He wanted me! My pussy gushed as I watched the eagerness for satisfaction in his face. "Don't get me wrong, James. That isn't entirely a good thing. I mean that thing is too big. You must realize that. Do girls refuse to have sex because of how freakishly big you are?" "Yef," he said, casting his eyes down. That wasn't the answer I expected. I'd been half kidding. Suddenly I felt a little twinge of guilt. That may actually have been a sore spot for James. It may well be that women run from him screaming because of how big his cock is. I mean, that thing truly was a monstrosity. To chase away the feeling of guilt, I needed to remind myself that he was a rapist. "Is that your excuse, James? Is that why you decided you'd stoop to raping women?" He didn't answer. Instead an actual tear fell down his face. What was it? Was it shame? Was it guilt? Was he feeling actual remorse for what he was going to do to me?" So I softened my facial expression and voice a little. "Well, don't worry, James. We'll fix that. I think I have an idea, actually. "Mo," he said frantically shaking his head. "Don't worry, love. It won't involve cutting you or anything. I have something else in mind. I think I can make a decent lover out of you yet. But first…" I took a few steps in toward him. "Let's have a little work out, shall we?" I got down and did some leg stretches as I continued to speak to him. "So James…before we begin. How much do you know about ball-busting?" His face went white. "Mo! You pwomiffed!" "Shh, shh…don't worry, love. I'm not planning on literally breaking them. Just punishing them a little, okay?" He took a deep breath and nodded. "James, I'm going to tell you something I've never told anyone. Well, okay, I told one other guy—my ex—and he just thought I was weird. I know there's lots of guys out there that do like it, but…finding the right one can get difficult. Not to say awkward. I mean, it's not like I can just ask somewhere in the middle of a date, maybe over dinner, 'so, I have a ball-busting fetish. And what I'd really like to do with you is tie you up and beat your testicles and make you whimper while you lie under me and eat my pussy.'" Every muscle in James's athletic body tensed as I said this, and his balls noticeably sucked back in towards his body, as if they had a chance to escape into his abdomen. Not that they could… and his cock seemed to pulsate a little too. Was I scaring him…or exciting him? Hmm… "When I told my ex about it, the fucker actually laughed at me. He said no man would ever let me do that. Keep dreaming. I hated him for that. But you…would you say that to me?" He shook his head. "Does that sound like something you'd let me try, James?" He nodded, and his eagerness for sexual release was almost comical. "Hmm, well, maybe we can try that after…okay, I tell you what, James. If you can take ten kicks to the balls and remain standing, we can have sex on my bed." I swear he actually just straight up smiled at that. Though he still looked terrified. As he should, I thought amusedly to myself. "Don't worry, love. I won't kick you so hard you pass out again. That would ruin the fun anyway. If you aren't conscious, I can't watch you suffer." I finished my stretching and stood, stretching my arms above my head. "Who knows, James? Maybe I can even help you build up your pain tolerance. Hopefully by the time I finish with you, you can take a hundred without breaking a sweat!" "A humbweb?" a said. I took a few steps in, and he recoiled as if expecting a kick right there. My pussy gushed again at the sensation of his sudden fear. He was learning the healthy fear a man should feel for a woman. Always. "Don't worry, love. We'll start with something tamer. Some warm-ups for your balls, if you will. Hold on. Stay right there, lover. Don't go anywhere. I went to my kitchen drawer and took out a wooden stirring spoon, and returned to my bed. Then I grabbed the string binding his balls and pulled it taut, forcing his balls out towards me. "Now," I began. "Try to hold still, okay? Because if you move, I'm going to hit you harder. You don't want that, do you, James?" He said nothing. He just stared down at the spoon in terror. "Do you!" I snapped, and whapped him on the nuts with the spoon." "Mo," he said, shaking his head. "Good boy. Now. Listen. I'd tell you to try to focus your mind elsewhere. But fuck that. I want you focused on the pain. So if I don't feel like you're focused. I'm going to hit you way harder. And you'll just have to take it. Do I make myself clear?" He nodded. "If it helps, I've read some guys report online that they find it makes it easier if they focus on their breathing. I suggest you do the same so you don't pass out. Because if you pass out…" I leaned in really close to his face and whispered. "Then I can't have sex with you after." He nodded. "Good boy. Okay. Here we go." I started with a light rap on the nuts. He let out a little grunt and winced. "Good," I said. "Good boy." I whapped him on the nuts again, savoring his reaction. For his part, he looked like he was trying to breathe, but failing. "Breathe, James. Be good for me." This time, I did it more gently, but repeatedly. This got an entirely different reaction from him. In some of the ball-busting videos I like watch and…well, finger myself to, I see dominatrixes do this one. And it always gives me such a charge. How and why does it hurt men so much? I mean it's nothing more than a series of light taps. And yet men seem to react like they're being repeatedly stabbed. They're just so…delicate. James began to whimper and then instinctively tried to turn away from me. But this just meant that I was able to pull him back by the string. "I warned you, James. Now I have to hit you harder." I began beating him harder, and in his moans and wails were so sweet. Like music. His sounds of suffering was like music to my ears. "Hold still, James," I giggled. I was having so much fun! Pity he wasn't. Well…for him, anyway. I was having a good time. "There," I said, giving him a moment's respite, and tossing the spoon aside. He panted and gulped. He was so delightfully excited. "Look at how hard your cock still is," I said. "You must really be enjoying this, huh?" He shook his head. "Aw…" I said with mock sympathy. "Well, I'm enjoying myself. That counts for something doesn't it? You want me to have a good time, don't you?" He nodded, like the smart boy he was. "Good boy. Now let's move on to some slaps, shall we?" He let out a groan in lieu of an answer. And anyway, it wasn't like I was giving him a choice. I tugged at the string and the slapped his naked balls with my open hand. He winced, but otherwise didn't make a sound. I grinned and hit him harder. He let out a whimper through his gag, but still, I could tell he could take it. "There," I said, continuing to slap his balls every few seconds, getting only a medium reaction from him. "That's not so bad is it? The slaps seem to sound worse than they feel, don't they?" He shrugged. I bit my lip and flashed him a wicked smile. "How about a few punches?" He whimpered in lieu of an answer. Then I let him have it! I wrapped one hand around his balls, and balled the other in a fist, and then I delivered the first punch. He made a sick sound and I felt his whole body shudder as he tried to mitigate the pain and keep his balance. "Completely different ball game now, isn't it?" I giggled. "So to speak." Then I punched him a second time, and a third, and a fourth. He let out a loud groan and then tried to stumble back, but I yanked him in by his balls. "I warned you not to move, James. The punches get harder now." "Mo! Mo, mo, wai—" I gave him five more rapid punches to his trapped testicles. Then I laughed as he whined, looking me right in the eyes. There was something so intimate about it all. He didn't know it yet, but we were bonding. I was getting to know his pain tolerance, and he was getting to know my sadistic side. And it made my pussy so…damn…wet! "I think you're ready for some kicks now," I said, and got up. "Spread your legs apart." He gave me a helpless look, kicking out one foot the few inches it could to show he didn't have much slack with the ankle cuffs. "As far as they can then, smartass. I'm kicking you harder, just for that." He still looked reluctant, and well, terrified. "Don't make me ask you again. Unless you've decided you'd rather go to the cops. Or unless you want me to castrate you." He sighed, then spread his legs without further argument. "Now, before we begin, I'm a girl of my word. If you can take ten kicks, without losing your footing, then I'll have sex with you. If you can't, well…then I'll just have to make you try again, won't I? Ready?" "Mff," he said. I took that as a yes. I rapidly raised my knee, and he flinched and instinctively took a step back. But it was just a psych-out. I laughed. He just looked so pitiful. "I haven't even touched you yet! And already you're backing up. I'm warning you, you do that again, and you'll get a full-force kick. Like the first. Is that what you want?" "Mo," he whined, and shook his head. "Then get back here. Right here. And hold completely still." He did as he was told. Then I let him have it. The first kick was similar to the flinch-out I'd just given. I raised my knee, but didn't kick out my foot just yet. But he cringed anyway. I just held my knee there. "Stop being such a pussy, James," I said. "I told you I was going to help build up your tolerance levels, didn't I? So don't look so scared. Okay? Here we go." I then kicked out from the knee, connecting with his balls with a loud slap. He let out a howl through his gag, and tensed his arms against the cuffs that held him. Every muscle in his torso also tensed. He looked so delicious like this! "That's one!" I said. Then I kicked again, from the knee once more, but a little harder. "Two…" I gave a third. "Three!" His breathing began to speed up, and his chest heaved in and out. His massive, monstrous cock seemed to remain hard as ever. Harder, if possible. "If I didn't know any better, James, I'd say you might actually be enjoying this. I guess you're ready for me to bring my kicks to the next level." I brought my knee back to the downward position and cocked back the lower half of my leg. Then I let forth a light kick. He made a dull "oof" noise, as my socked foot connected with his balls, like he'd just been kicked really hard in the stomach. Only really, I'd barely touched his nut-sack. Any other body part it would just be a loud slap sound. But obviously, the balls aren't like any other body part. Then I gave him a fifth, and a sixth, at about the same power. He reacted each time by tensing up and exhaling, never taking his eyes off me. Then I realized he was staring at my tits. "Are you checking me out?" He looked in my eyes, suddenly guilty. He totally was! And something about that was so hot. "Hey, whatever gets you through it," I said with a smile. I kicked him a seventh time. This one was a little harder than the rest. He gasped, and shuddered, and all the muscles on his sexy body tensed again, but he still didn't move his feet. "Wow," I said. You realize you're almost through it? Three more kicks, and you're home-free. Hmm…I guess I'm going to have to up my game, huh?" I gave him a wicked smile, and his eyes went wide with apprehension. I cocked my foot back, and gave him a proper kick. He let out a moan unlike any I'd heard yet. It was loud and desperate. "Not bad, not bad…" I said. "That was about one-quarter power. I can kick way harder of course!" His face went white. I just laughed. "Try not to look so serious, James. We're having a good time, aren't we? Ready for number nine?" This time I kicked him in the balls a little harder. It still wasn't my hardest. There was a part of me that wanted him to win this small victory tonight, and make him feel like he'd really earned something. That was going to be an ongoing theme for us, I was hoping. James groaned, and lurched forward, almost losing his balance. He looked like he was going to be sick. He coughed a bit, his face red and strained. "That was about thirty percent power, James. And I've only got one kick left. Want to see if you can stay standing if I kick way harder?" I got a wild evil look in my eyes, and I could tell that scared the living crap out of him. I just felt so powerful! For a little girl like me to cause a guy his size this much pain was such a charge! I got ready for the last kick, taking a step back so I could wind up into it. I really wanted to make this one count. And, well, I admit I wanted to win. So I just kicked him as hard as I could. Minus all the adrenaline I had last time of course, while I was tied and scared for my life. So this wasn't as hard, but I still wanted to drop him. And drop him it did. I stepped in and kicked him in the balls with my socked foot with a loud thwack. He strained against his bonds for a moment and let out an inhuman yelp, and then crumpled to his knees, and sank to the floor, balling up in a fetal position and coughing into the gag. "Aw…" I said. "Looks like you lose, James." He didn't respond, but instead writhed on the floor in pain. I watched for a few moments, but he didn't seem to move. I got down on my knees next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "James," I said, a bit softer now, "are you all right?" With a defeated, exhausted and anguished look, he returned my gaze, and our eyes met. And then I realized I could see something else there. There was something about the thrill of kicking him so hard that I dropped him, and this submissive look he was giving me now, and the soft, tender touch on his body, suddenly I really wanted him! But I couldn't take him now, I realized. That would be giving him what he wanted. And he lost. And anyway, this is supposed to be a punishment! But then I got another idea. I could put a different spin on it. "Tell you what, James. Technically, you did take ten kicks without falling down. Right before you fell down, that is. But you still took all ten like a champ. So if you want to, I can still have sex with you anyway. But it'll be my way, of course. Would you like that?" And just like that, his face practically lit up. There was still a look of apprehension on his face. Maybe he thought it was too good to be true. Of course, he wouldn't feel that way for long… "Get on the bed," I ordered. Slowly, carefully, he got to his feet, and then hobbled over to the bed as quickly as his chained ankles afforded him. When he got there, I turned him around to face me. His rock hard cock was practically poking me in the belly. I reached behind his head and unfastened the gag, an then pulled it out and dropped it to the floor. "Ah," he said, stretching his mouth out. I grabbed his cock with one hand and began stroking it. "Feels nice to get that gag out, doesn't it?" "Oh…yes…" "I bet you feel good now," I said. I grabbed his testes in my other hand and gave them a squeeze. "Ugh," he moaned. "Kiss me," I said. He leaned in and we kissed tenderly, while with one hand I stroked his cock, and the other I squeezed his balls. "Mmm," I said. "You're not a bad kisser, James. It's really too bad you felt you had to…you know." "I know, Laura" he said. "I really am sorry." "I know, James. I know you are. But you're going to make it up to me." I squeezed his balls hard. "Ow! Oh, stop, stop, please." I released his balls and then pushed him backward. The bed forced his knees to buckle and he fell onto his back onto the bed. Then I peeled off my moistened cotton panties and let them slide to the floor. He stared at my pussy with obvious eagerness. I pulled his legs up onto the bed, then got off and got the keys to the cuffs and came back to the bed. "I'm going to shackle you to the bed now, James. You're not going to cause me any more trouble, are you?" "No, ma'am." I slapped his balls. "Oh…" he moaned. "No, Mistress!" I snapped. "No, Mistress." "Good boy, James." I un-cuffed one foot, and then passed the ankle chain through several footboards at the foot of the bed, making sure his legs would be spread as far apart as possible. Then I fastened them in place. Then I got on top of him, straddling him, with his huge, erect cock lying flat on his belly. I lowered my pussy onto it, not putting it inside me—there was no way I was getting that whole cock inside me. That would hurt—but instead, I rubbed the lips of my wet pussy along its length. "Mmm," I purred. He opened his jaw in an almost anguished, eager expression. Obviously he longed to be inside me. I giggled at his plight. "Calm down, love. We're almost there. Now…sit up." He struggled to sit himself up using his cuffed hands behind him. Once he did so, our faces were level with one another's, only an inch apart. I kissed him again. He kissed back. And it was so sweet and gentle. "I'm going to unlock your hands now, James. I know you're a lot stronger than me, so I'm going to make this easy for you." I reached back for his balls. "No," he cried. I gave him a few medium slaps. "You're going to behave yourself. Or instead of having sex you, I'm going to torture you. I'll have fun either way. But you won't. Do you understand? "Yes." I slapped his balls hard. "Oof!" he said. "Yes, Mistress!" I snapped. "Yes, Mistress!" I unlocked one of his hands. "There, you're free. Now lie back." He lay back on the bed with his arms above him. "Now cuff yourself to the headboard." He tried to comply. "Ugh…" he grunted, making an effort to do as instructed. I gave his balls a hard smack. "Hurry up! I'm horny, James." "Ugh…I'm trying. I can't quite reach." I smiled. That was good. It meant I hadn't misjudged the distance. "Ugh, let me," I said, feigning impatience. I scooted up along his body, and then when my crotch reached his face, my knees and thighs were in a position to force his arms tighter together and higher on the bed. Also, my sex was very close to his mouth. So close that, if he stuck out his tongue, he could taste it. So close he could smell me. I grabbed the handcuffs and pulled them behind the headboard, and then his freed wrist, and re-fastened it. Now he was locked to my bed. "Now you're mine!" I said triumphantly. I looked down at him and smiled. He looked back up and he smiled too, albeit nervously. "Now lick my pussy." "Yes mistress," he said. Then he licked my pussy. And, oh my god, he was so good! The tip of his tongue made its way to my clitoris, and he seemed to know just how to stimulate it with gentle, circular motions. "Mmm, you're good at that," I said. "So…so good at that." Damn! I thought. He was getting me really excited! I let him lick me like that for a little while, getting me closer to a climax. But then I realized I wanted a little more from him. I got off him and went and got my hair-brush. And came back and smiled at him. "What's that for?" he said. "You'll see!" I said. I climbed on top of him, straddling his arms again, only this time facing the other way, with my ass in his face. "You remember this is how I said I really wanted to do it." I lowered my pussy onto his face, and then took the string around his balls and yanked them up towards me. James let out a groan. Then I smacked him in the balls hard with the back of the brush. James let out a cry of pain. I giggled, reveling in all this power I had now. "You're going to do a good job, James. If you don't…" Whack! "Ugh!" "Do we understand each other? If I don't think you're working hard enough down there, I'll smack your balls so hard you can't take it. But if you do a good job…well…" I bounced the other end of the hair brush off his stretched-taut balls. He let out a grunt. "I'll still hurt you. But it will be bearable. And I think we'll both have a good time. So be a good boy and do as you're told." "Yes Mistress," he said from beneath me. "Good boy. Now eat my pussy like your balls depend on it. Because they do." Then I rode his face while his tongue eagerly stimulated the nub of my clit. All the while, I struck his balls regularly with the brush. It was almost like I was riding a horse. Hyah! It felt so good. So right. So good I thought I would…oh…god! It wasn't long before I had my first orgasm on top of him like this. And then they just kept coming. He kept making me come, and any time he seemed to tire, I'd give his balls a hard smack with the back of the brush, and he'd hurry up and keep eating like the good steed he was. Finally, I realized I'd had all the orgasms my body was prepared to give me for the night, which turned out to be five. This was a new record for me. My ex had never given my pussy this kind of attention for this long before. And no man had ever made me this excited before. I got off him, panting, trying to catch my breath. He was trying to catch his breath too, but for different reasons. I kissed him on the lips and I could taste myself on him. "Mmm, you did such a good job, James," I said. "Does that mean we get to have sex now?" he said. I burst into laughter. "What do you think that was, James?" "It was…" He looked confused. "Oral sex, James. What, you thought I meant I'd shove that monstrous thing into my pussy?" He looked wounded. Like I'd just struck him in the testicles. So I actually struck him in the balls again, to give him a little perspective. "Ow!" he wailed. "But you promised." "And as promised, I had sex with you. Oral sex is still sex." "You tricked me!" "You tried to rape me!" I snapped. I whacked him hard in the balls. He let out a pained cry and thrashed against his bonds, but they held. "I know you came here hoping to get your rocks off tonight. But then you tried to rape me, James. So now you're being punished. And part of your punishment is that you don't get to come. Not until you've earned it." "Oh, god, please." Whack! "Ungh!" "No whining!" I snapped. "But…" "What!" "What do I have to do to earn it?" "We'll see. We can talk more in the morning. But right now, it's the middle of the night, and I'm sleepy. And there's a hot warm man in my bed to cuddle with." I got the covers to the bed and threw them back on, and then stripped off the sports bra. The socks I kept on because, well, you know, they were comfy. I slipped my panties back on and climbed into bed with him. "You're not going to un-cuff me?" he said "Are you kidding, James?" He didn't seem to know how to answer that. "Of course not," I said. "I can't trust you yet. When I know I can trust you, I'll let you free. But until then, there's just no way." "But—" "Shh," I hushed, squeezing his balls gently. "Be good for me and let me get some sleep." I wrapped my hand around his helpless balls. "Or I'll put you to sleep by squeezing so hard you pass out." He made a whimpering sound of compliance. Then, slowly, I drifted off to sleep, while cuddling up to my hot, naked stud, with one hand possessively on his balls to show him who was in charge. Tomorrow I would have to figure out a more permanent solution. But for now, I needed my rest. He had rudely awakened me in the night, after all.

****

The next morning, I awoke to find him fast asleep. He looked so peaceful now. Should I let him sleep, or should I…? I smacked him in the balls. He startled awake and thrashed against his shackles and then groaned. "Good, you're awake," I said. "Did you sleep well?" "No…" "Aw…well, too bad, love. Because it's morning and I have to go get ready. So I'm going to need you awake for this." I took the string that bound his balls and then pulled it upwards, towards the ceiling fan. Then I tied it off on the other end, and created a pulley with the ball of string. "What are you doing?" he asked. "I need to make sure you don't try to escape today while I'm out." "But…you said you'd let me go!" "I know, love. And I will. But first I need to make sure you can be trusted. I don't want you getting away and then finding another rape victim. Or waiting to attack me again." "But I won't," he said. "I swear." "Swearing isn't good enough," I said. "Like I said, you have to earn back my trust. Now hush. I'm going to need you to be strong for this. Because you're going to be holding yourself up. If you try to move too much, or if you fall asleep, you'll pull your own balls off." "Oh…god…no…please…" he whined. I pulled harder, forcing him to follow, as his balls were pulled up towards the ceiling. I pulled until he was straining every delicious muscle in his shredded body to hold himself up. To keep himself from losing his balls. Then I tied it off, and left him there. "There," I said. "How's that? Think you can hold that position until I get back?" "Ungh…I don't know," he said, already perspiring noticeably. "How long are you going to be gone?" "As long as it takes to find what I need to keep you under control. No more than two hours." "Two hours?" he cried. "Well, I want to shower and stuff before I go out, so maybe more like three." He began to whimper, so I just left him there and showered. Once I was dressed, he spoked to me as I was heading out the door. "Please…please don't leave me like this…mmf!" I silenced him by putting the ball-gag back in his mouth. "Shh…Don't worry, James. You're strong. Look at you. You're all muscle. Last night, you tried to use all that muscle to have your way with me. Now you're going to use all that muscle to try to keep your balls intact. Let that be a lesson to you." With that, I left.

****

True to my word, I got back maybe three hours later. Okay, maybe four. I was pleased to see that he'd somehow managed to stay up all that time, and his limbs were shaking. "You're still up, I see. That's good." "Mmmf…" he sputtered. "Met me bowm, met me bowm…" he whimpered desperately, tears streaming down his face. "You want me to let you down?" "Yef," he moaned. "Okay, just hold on…" I went and got his knife and then began cutting back and forth along the string. Within moments, the cord was cut, and he fell back onto the bed, noticeably relieved, drenched in sweat. I let him breathe a few moments while I fished something out of the shopping bag. "I got you something from the sex shop down the street. I hope you like it." I pulled the device out of the bag and showed it to him. "Wha is ip?" he said through his gag. "What does it look like, dummy? It's an industrial-strength device to lock up that monstrous cock of yours. Now, let's get this thing on, shall we? While you're still nice and soft." I immediately took to getting the cage on his cock. "Waip…" he said. "No waiting," I said. "Now hold still or I'll kick you in the balls so hard you pass out again." He stopped struggling and let me lock it on him. The device was shaped such that it locked in a thick ring around his balls, pushing them out away from the device. Perfect for easy access any time I wanted to hurt his balls. Which I imaged would be quite often. The cock cage, on the other hand, effectively locked his huge cock inside a tiny cage. "There," I said, locking the device in place. "Lucky for you, you're more of a grower than a shower. How does it feel?" "I'fs hie'," he mumbled. Hang on," I said. I took his gag out. "What?" "It's tight." "Good. It should be snug. It'll get tighter the more excited you get, so I'd advise you to stay away from porn, or scantily clad women, or anything else that'll get you too excited." He looked back at mem, confounded. "You look confused," I said. "It's uncomfortable. Take it off." "You've decided you want me to take your cock off after all?" I said. His face went white. "No! God no! I mean the stupid device. It's already starting to hurt." "That's just because you're getting excited, love. You are getting excited, aren't you? Because you're tied to a bed and you've got a hot girl doting over you?" "Yes," he groaned. "Well good, I'm glad. It's nice to feel wanted." "Please take it off. The device off, I mean." "Nuh-uh. That's your cock's new home. Unless of course, you've decided you'd rather I cut it off completely." "What? No! Please! Don't do this to me." "You did this to yourself, James. You tried to rape me. Now I'm trying to be fair here, and I think I'm being more than only fair. In fact, the only reason I'm even giving you this chance is because I've decided I like you. And you like me, don't you? That's why you crept in here last night, isn't it?" "Yeah…" "So this is your chance to make it up to me. And that's really generous and you should thank your lucky stars I think you're so hot. Because for my part, I think I'm honor-bound to protect my fellow women everywhere from that monster cock of yours. And if it weren't for my good will and the fact you're kind of a sexy stud, you'd be in police custody already. Or at the hospital, minus your cock and balls. Which would be a shame really, because I happen to really like your balls. They're fun to torture." "How long are you going to make me wear this thing?" "A while, probably. I don't know. Maybe forever. That all depends how good you are. If you want your cock back, you're going to have to earn it." I let that sink in. "Now listen," I said. "I'm going to untie you now. This device I got you was very expensive. It has a combination lock on it. Only I know the combination. So you can't overpower me, or tie me up, or force me to tell you the combination. If you try, or if you try the wrong combination. You'll get a jolt in your cock and balls. Want to see?" "Not really," he said. "Too bad. I want to make sure you understand the situation you're in." "But—" I put in the wrong combo, and he got a shock. He screamed. "See?" I said, wrapping my hands around his exposed balls. "Your balls, and your monster cock. They're mine. I control them now. If you want to get free, you have to come back here, and let me tie you up again. And then, only then, will I ever take that device off you. And even then, only if it suits me, and for as long as I want to play with you. Then the device goes back on before I free you. Do you understand?" "Yes." I squeezed his balls hard. "Oohh…" he groaned. "Yes, what?" "Yes, Mistress!" "Good boy. Now listen. I have a busy afternoon ahead of me. I've got classes and then I want to go to the gym. But if you like, you can call me after, and maybe you can take me out for a drink. Because I'm a lady, and I deserve to be treated like a lady, don't you agree?" I squeezed his balls again. "Yes, Mistress," he said. And he was actually smiling. So I smiled back. "Are you happy with this arrangement?" "Yes, Mistress!" "Good. Oh, and you can call me Laura in public. We don't want to arouse any suspicions, do we?" "No, L—er, Mistress." I smiled. I got the keys and unlocked his feet, and then straddled him, with his cock locked away beneath my already moistening sex. "I'm going to unlock your hands now. You're not going to try to hurt me, are you?" "No Mistress. I really never wanted to hurt you, you know." I nodded. "I know, James." I unlocked his hands and then got off him and let him get dressed, minus the shirt that had been cut open. "Here," I said, tossing him a collared button-up shirt. "I bought this for you while I was out. I checked against the other one. Should be your size." He put the shirt on. He looked good in it. Refined. Almost civilized. Then he turned to me, and looked me in the eyes. I felt just a little nervous again. I wasn't sure if I was about to have to fight for my life, or if he'd just…well, I don't know, run maybe. But then he came up to me and slowly leaned in to kiss my lips. And it was warm, and sweet. And we kissed for awhile, and then I could feel my pussy below getting really wet. "Ow," he said, finally pulling away, and rubbing at his crotch. "Remember, try not to get too excited, big boy." "Can I see you tonight?" he asked. I smiled. "I'd like that. My number's in your cell already." "I'll call you around seven?" he said. "You'd better. I imagine it'll be a long, sleepless night for you if you don't." Then he left, and I shut the door behind him, leaning against it, my heart racing. I realized something then. Not only had I managed to avoid getting raped in the night, but I also met someone I think I really liked. I know he didn't go about it the right way—and I'd make him answer for that every day of his life from now on—but for now, I was feeling giddy about the whole experience. I realized I had kind of a crush on him. And I couldn't wait to see him again. I had so many delightfully torturous things in store for him. And I knew the promise of sex would keep him coming back for more…

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