I have an Loyalfans account where I slink around in my sexy, very comfortable cashmere cable knit dresses, with my huge 30FF titties bouncing all over the place, talking about testicle abuse and giving you the unique experience of having a nice ballbusting girlfriend. What does this have to do with ballbusting you might be asking? Where am I going with this? Shut up! I’m just reminding you of my cool life!

In today’s blog though I just wanna write about those curious, extremely sensitive organs, that hang precariously on the outside of the male human and sit dangerously far away from the relative safety of the internal body.

The past few blogs have all seemed to have a kind of hook, but with this one, I want to try to appreciate the experience of having balls, from the male point of view. This should be difficult for me in some pretty obvious ways, but in others, it’s not so hard really. After all, the fact is that I’ve kicked so many balls for fun and profit during my extremely prolific lifestyle as a teenage ballbuster in school, but then later and up until the present day as a kinder, wiser, professional. So I feel like I know testicles very well, and much more so than the average, normal lady, because of my ballbusting fetish and first-hand experience. I also have hundreds of hours of accrued time I’ve spent discussing ballbusting with ballbois. I like to engage with different ballbois on Twitter for example, and even this week I got some great insight into what it’s really like to get completely ball-rocked by a nice lady. What does it feel like? Let’s have a go!  With an amalgamation of all my testi-victims, I’ll conceive of the perfect ball-destruction. 

There are lots of different ways to get perfectly ball-rocked, but today I’ll talk about one of my favourite methods: the testicle speed-bag, or ball-boxing. If you don’t already know, I made TWO ballbusting videos about ballboxing called “Fight Night! Stacy Punches the Ball Bag”  and “Ballbusting Table Workout.  I actually recommend that you read this blog and watch the video for the full ballboxing experience.

Firstly you need to tug on the balls for a bit to get them ‘loose’ and then drop the balls down through a hole in my table and get ready to take a nice ball-nap. (It’s like a massage table with a ball-hole in it). In fact, this is going to be a ball-cation of a lifetime, as you drift away to the smooth sounds of your own screams.     

From my perspective, I look up and I see a nice large set of balls lower themselves through the hole, but they’re not coming down fast enough, so I pinch the scrotum skin and pull it down faster. “Get those big balls of fun down here!” I laugh. The ball meat follows the scrotum skin and plops through the opening, which is slightly smaller than both testicles combined so that they don’t pull right back up for any reason. Conveniently also, the ballboi’s weight/mass pushes the testicles down so they’re nice and ready for a serious pummelling. 

Seeing the disconnect of ‘just balls’ without the hassle of dealing with the guy who’s attached to them, is a dream come true for a ballbuster. I get so excited using the ball-boxing table as it makes me feel extra naughty and I go off on a little power trip. Being able to do anything to these balls and there’s not a damn thing the guy can do about it (or predict) is pretty wild. You can also get creative under there, in your own little balls-only world, with no one looking at you, watching, witnessing…. The guy is left to his imagination to figure out what exactly is happening to his balls!

I don’t think this setup is suitable for every boy because there are several major Stacy-leaning advantages to the testicle speedbag table, the main one being speed.

If you’re reading this, you should punch yourself in the balls. It’s my challenge to you. Go on, I’ll wait.

Harder! I mean really punch your balls, just like how I would punch them, just one time. That first time didn’t count because it wasn’t super hard, so now do it for real. This time I’ll really wait.

Are you back? Now imagine that I’m punching your balls that hard approximately 4 times per second (yes, I counted) for the entire length of the “Eye Of The Tiger” song which is 4 minutes and 4 seconds long. That’s 976 full-on punches. And they’re real punches, not your pussy-ass punches you do to yourself normally. Before I get into it even further also consider this; in the testes speedbag scenario not only do you get the full-on punch, your balls also fly up and slam into the table, maybe get crushed by my so-fast-it’s-blurred glove and the table, then they bounce back at speed straight into the next oncoming punch. It’s magical.

But let’s examine it further, let’s slow time down scientifically. What’s really happening, depending on the angle, is that my huge scary fist smashes straight into your delicate left testicle, the nerves in the outer edge are shocked, instantly sending signals up to your spine to your brain, but while that’s happening, the left testicle gets compressed by the force, and begins its journey in its little fibrous sac until it smashes into the right testicle. The right testicle gets smashed by its brother as well as my fist, sending its own signals to your beleaguered brain, but not before your sac beautifully arcs its way up and full-on smashes at close to 50 mph straight into the underside of the table, as I said, bouncing back for what’s waiting for it.

Imagine the horror after the first 10 seconds of this, knowing you have another three minutes and fifty-four seconds of agony. The time seems to stretch out before you as already you’ve been punched in your precious family jewels 40 times or more. Just one punch was all your mind ever really prepared you for. This seemed like such a hot fun idea in your mind, during the time you were jacking off to my huge 30FF tits bouncing around kicking guys’ balls in my underwater video. You scream and scream but I don’t stop because I know what you really want, and that (probably) your dick is rock hard during it. You’ve always wanted to know what it’s like to experience this and to get some real ball abuse. You’ve seen it happen in viral ball prank videos, you’ve seen it happen in candid testicle knees, maybe you’ve even followed along to ballbusting jerk-of-instruction videos, but nothing will ever beat a real woman who doesn’t give a shit about your balls; truly putting the “orb” in the words “low Earth orbit”* [because she physically punches them into outer space. Get it?]

*A low Earth orbit (LEO) is an Earth-centred orbit with an altitude of 2,000 km (1,200 mi) or less (approximately one-third of the radius of Earth).

Your stomach starts to seize up as I happily pummel your nut-sac with abandon. You feel like you need to shit, piss, puke, cry, scream, all at once! Your mind can’t really focus on any one thing long enough to concentrate, except to uncontrollably yelp and scream. The ache in your testes has amped up to a white-hot shaft of pain that spreads throughout your whole body, sickening every organ it touches with your peculiarly male scrotal malaise. Being punched in the testicles is almost exactly like being punched super hard in the stomach and abdomen at the same time, but with the added pleasure of your balls also being on fire. And we haven’t even got to the first chorus yet!

I hope you haven’t eaten lately or you really will puke, that’s no joke. The electric signals shooting through your abdomen are telling your every muscle to curl you up into the fetal position. I have found the only way to really completely batter the testicles as hard as fuck a thousand times per song, is to lie boys down on the table, because when you punch just one time super hard their legs almost always turn to jelly. It’s like, sheesh, will you just fucking stand up you worthless pussy! You’re wasting my time and I don’t like waiting! Oh, wait, haha, no, you can’t stand up just yet…

Around the 200th punch, I usually take a breather for a couple of seconds. My arms start burning up from the intense ball-workout and need a little rest. I don’t for a second think about how his balls must feel – like a slab of butchered meat, I imagine (haha!). That’ll be around the one minute mark of course. 

Breathe, breathe, haymaker straight to your fucking nutmeat then start up again! I love the sound of a boy’s delicate, extremely vulnerable reproductive organs slamming into the table and bouncing straight back into my other boxing glove as it speeds towards them. It’s loud! BAPPATA BAPPATA BAPPATA. I wonder what the neighbours think I’m doing! Maybe they’ll knock on the door and want to join in with me!

I’ll throw in an uppercut and suddenly the precious ball-glands are squished nearly flat, going from 3 cm wide to 1/2 a cm, in a blink of an eye. All the microscopic delicate strands of ball spaghetti get crushed and try desperately to maintain their structural integrity. But what’s really happening is at the micro-level, tiny arteries are getting sheared, stretched, tearing, creating permanent scarring and causing irreversible blood flow issues. Meanwhile, all the ballboi is thinking is “ah shit my balls… damn my balls hurt… yes girl, fuck my balls up… ahhhh noooo”. But what your body is experiencing really is you getting fucking sterilised. I hope you didn’t want any children lad because I just punched your epididymis closed LOL. I mean, your parents might care about that shit, but I certainly don’t. Hehehehe.

If I really get into the “swing” of things, I can up the ante and increase the ball-punches from 4 punches per second to 5 punches per second. Baby needs to get her exercise whenever and however she can get it… BAPPATA BAPPATA BAPPATA BAPPATA BAPPATA… I’m doing it!

I’m really working up a sweat, but it’s worth it.  You’re getting a whole lifetime of testicle abuse in just 4 minutes and 4 seconds! This is why ball-boxing is one of the best ways. I can see now, that your balls are really starting to swell. I’m not even sure if they will be able to pull themselves out of the table hole LOL but I don’t really care (that’s his problem…). Each testicle has expanded by 50% as the meat inside swells with blood and fluid and who knows what, it might be helium for all I care because, for me, it just makes the targets bigger and more satisfying for whacking with my fist! 😀 The ball skin also starts to become super red, which is a totally normal reaction to hundreds of repeated punches.

The only thing bad about this method is that it’s extremely hard to do anything too serious like rupture a testicle, or crush it, as normally this requires extremely precise and penetrative force. I have a video that explains how that kinda serious ballbusting stuff is done and I give a demonstration on a castrated ball too. Ballboxing, however, is a more friendly and lighthearted ballbusting sport which every guy into ballbusting should try. It’ll put you into a nice zen state of subspace you hear a lot of folks talk about. 

But wait, I’m not done… didn’t this ballboxing sub arrive at the session 5 minutes late?! BAPPATA BAPPATA BAPPATA BAPPATA! I renew my excruciating assault with greater purpose sending the man meat to the truest version of hell that exists this side of the veil. I’m so happy that I can help deliver this boy’s mind to pain-places normally only visited by prisoners of war, lynch mob victims, and possibly drug cartel rats, as his testes are now so big they look deformed. There might be no actual rupturing, but they don’t look healthy! I stop for a couple of seconds and inspect the sac with my gloved hand, and soon realise that just touching the genitals gently causes the boy to flinch and twitch LOL.

“I didn’t even punch you that time!”

 “It hurts!” he screams through his gag. At least I think that’s what he said.    

It looks like his epididymis is swollen to the size of a marshmallow, and possibly one of his testicles has twisted around a few times inside because it’s turning a vaguely blueish colour. My laugh is silvery and hearty, not my problem! I give his ruining beans another huge uppercut, flattening his now goose sized eggs against the underside of the ballbusting table. I can feel them splat-shattering and it’s hilarious. He screams a long, sustained agonized scream. This time I listen and I hear him crying, “Stop!” 

But I don’t stop, because my song and dance routine isn’t done! I’m squeezing in a lifetime of abuse into this session and BallbustingStacy ain’t no quitter! BAPPATA BAPPATA BAPPATA. I beat them loud and long. He’s gripping onto the table while crying and blubbering into a pillow. 

Seeing men in this state, it’s impossible not to think of them as stupid little boys who grew up with their sexual wires crossed in their brains. These ballbois don’t just happen in a vacuum.  Allow me to elucidate my theory: At some time during puberty, the ballboi either witnessed or had his goo-nads sexually assaulted by a strong, charming lady. The shock, humiliation and pain got stapled onto the poor ballbois sexual impulses, turning him into a pathetic gooning nut-pain chaser, obsessively masturbating to the thought of a woman destroying his sexual organs in some way. Trying desperately to regain the control he once had over his impulses by reenactment, role-playing, and desensitization. But it will never happen, he’ll always be a slave to that teenage girl who ruined him for life. LOL, too real?

Anyway, as I’m literally knocking the life outta his balls, which are dangling hopelessly below him and swelling by the second. The boy’s skin all over his body is turning red, for some reason, severe testicle trauma can sometimes manifest itself as hives. These appear as a result of severe emotional stress. This is an obvious result of a cute sexy young lady really torturing your peanuts for her amusement while you scream at the top of your lungs for her to “STOP PLEASE!”. Apparently, this can count as a “stressful situation” – who knew?

Your mind and body do everything in your power to relieve yourself of this nauseating, mind-numbing pain. Good thing you’re strapped in and your hands are bound. You’re going nowhere, boy. You guys always think it’s going to be so much fun, and to be fair, it is (for me), for some of you. But for every testicle-abuse fiend who has the time of his life, there are 3 sad bois who never return to the ballboxing table. Having had their fill of real-life testicle torment. It still makes their little peckers salute me, but from now on they’ll stick to reading about it in books or watching my videos. 

Finally, it’s over. His moans linger for a bit and then die out. I can hear him sniffling.     

I get out from under the table to check on the above table situation “You okay bub?” I inquire.     

“Mm..! Mm..!” he replies weakly.     

I reach under the table and BAM! his balls another full force uppercut straight in the goolies just to be safe.     

“Aaaaauuughh! Fuck” He shouts out into the studio.   

I untie him from my table and release him back into the wild. See ya next time!