(Here’s a blog post which has been requested by a lot of the readers out there!)
Even though we’re social creatures, it’s my belief that empathy doesn’t come naturally to all of us. Case in point is myself, up until at least my late teens.
Since kids don’t have much power or autonomy over their lives, not being fully emotionally developed mostly doesn’t matter, since they’re not writing laws or having jobs that require empathy for example, but there are occasionally some local casualties. Just ask my brother, Mike.
I was quite young when I found out about the awesome, argument-ending destructive power of a full force kick in the groin. I was at the age when I didn’t see my brother so much as a person with feelings and a rich inner life, rather I saw him as an obstacle, a rival, and a bit of a beast when it came to hogging the TV remote. It was so long ago I don’t even remember the first kick, but the scene played out so many times that I can give you a typical example, that I more or less remember, though it’s less of a specific incident more of an amalgamation of our typical sis-bro plum ruining:
It would be just the two of us and since he was a bit older, he would sometimes be chored with babysitting me and he’d let that little bit of that power go straight to his big head.
“Give me one of those pillows,” he’d say.
“No. I’m using them.”
“You’re not using all of them, just give me that one.”
“I’m lying on this one, it’s for my butt.”
“Give me a fucking pillow!” He’d stomp over and jerk the pillow out from under me and I’d go flying off the sofa and onto the carpet.
“Hey!” I’d say in a sulky way, but not react immediately, just quietly fuming and planning my retaliation in my head. Then when things had died down a bit, about five minutes later I’d calmly get up and go into the back garden to grab the broom and whacked off the sweep-y part so it was just the long, heavy wooden stick.
I’d go into the front room where he was sitting, noisily playing video-games and messily eating Space Raiders in his shorts, in a world of his own, leaning against my pillows, legs spread out in front of him, not a care in the world. I snuck up behind him and lifted the broom handle high above my head and looked down one last time at him peacefully man-splayed there on the floor, completely unaware of the hilarious and righteous agony he had bestowed upon his own crotch with his wanton disregard of my personhood! Well, two could play that game!
I brought the broom down in a perfect and forceful arc from above my head and straight into where I was pretty sure his “sacred” balls were. A direct hit results in a meaty thwack that reverberates all the way up the broomstick. It startles me so I drop the broom and bounce a few steps away from the instantaneous results of my actions.
He screams a high pitch burst of animal pain. “No!” he says in a kind of whine, his voice fraught with a special kind of testicle despair. The game he had heavily been invested in up until that moment is all but forgotten in the intense throes of complete and utter misery and total ball-disaster. Now, I know this initial phase well, it was the total mind-annihilation phase of nut anguish. It might last up to half an hour, but with any luck it would last even longer. Up to an hour is not unusual when a girl uses all her strength and a ball-killing tool to get the job done. I executed my first perfect ball-prank. My laughter is natural and satisfying and comes from deep within. It was such a wondrous giggleberry smash, I laughed long and loud, savouring my triumph.
I bet my laughter seems very far away to poor old Mike. He was dry heaving his smelly onion breath around the room and rolling around, trying to find the perfect position to experience this fresh hell on earth. The unending waves of pain are simply too much to process rationally. His legs make little bicycling motions (to my further amusement) and he finally curls up into a tight ball, legs tightly up in a foetal position.
It’s a position I often see men in, curled up in agony on the floor, with no strength or will left to fight. It’s somewhere between the flight and fight mode of survival… it’s just the “give up” mode. It’s happened in my Velma Busts Ghost Nuts and Ballbusting Knees and Kicks videos. I really love putting a man in that position, after all it doesn’t take much effort on my part.
Mike lapses into a peaceful mediative silence, punctuated by heavy, deep breathing and occasional weeping sounds as I yank away all the pillows he stole from me, turn off his stupid video-game and change the TV channel to something he hates.
I shout over my shoulder to my quivering brother “And don’t even think about telling mum and dad!”
Really, he should know better but he never learns, and he didn’t for many years.
In the case of the broom handle to the nuts, I think old Mikey stayed on the floor nearly until mum came back home that day. The first thing he did was dramatically limp ball-pained-edly towards her and say, “Mum, Stacy hit me in the baaaalls! ON PURPOSE! ”
“Is this true Stacy?” She’d say in a quick stern voice, unsuccessfully trying to suppress a half smile.
“Yeah, but he was being annoying to me!”
She’d shake her head and look at Mike and say, “Micheal don’t pester your sister, you’re bigger than her and you should know better. Now what would you lot like for dinner?”
Perhaps mum went easy on me, or perhaps she didn’t appreciate how badly I hit him there, or how much it hurt him, or more likely she didn’t think it mattered in the grand scheme of things. I suppose, like me she appreciated that in spite of their incredibly sensitive and vulnerable nature, testicles are actually fairly tough and you can beat the fuck out of them before it becomes a serious problem.
When it was just me and mum she’d always say, “If a boy ever is pestering you, you just knee him as hard as you can in the private parts and he’ll shut up and stop whatever he’s doing to annoy you.” She was right and is something of an inspiration. She had absolutely no qualms about thumping men hard in the bollocks especially if they were acting up.
I remember with mum and dad, he was tickling her something fierce while we were all at my Nan’s for Christmas one time. We were around the Christmas tree and he said something about her having some love handles these days and away he went with the tickling, she squealed, “Stop!” and “I don’t like that!” and even said, “You’re gonna get it! Stop!” Then boom! She karate chopped him in the family jewels with a loud thwap. My nan laughed and said, “She’s a feisty lass isn’t she?”
Dad just groaned and did the whole, my life is over, I’ve-just-been-sacked clown routine. We of course all laughed at him because it was funny and he earned it. Ball bashes are a good laugh. Mike looked on silently, knowingly, and perhaps a little sad at living in a house with rampant ballbusting bitches. I mean that in a nice way obviously.
When Mikey was a bit older he used to driving Mum’s car and one day he clumped down the stairs and said, “Eh mum, give us the keys I need to go pick up my girlfriend from the Station!”
“No,” Mum said, “I need the car today.”
“Too late!” he said and he run-grabbed the keys off the sofa table.
“Stop it!” she stood up, “Give ’em back!”
But he didn’t, and instead jangled the keys high above his head while walking towards the front door. I came to look at what all the noise was about, and was watching him be an arrogant dumbass, as usual. Mum shouted to me “Stop him, Stace, I’m serious!” so I strode up along side to him elbowed him and his balls out the way and down he went, dropping the car keys on the way down. I shrugged and went back upstairs to my room.
Mum picked up the keys and said, “You only have yourself to blame.”
He took 10 minutes to regain himself, re-doing his hair and spraying more cologne on himself. As he was leaving to meet his girlfriend (via the bus) I shouted down the stairs “Maybe you should see her tomorrow since you’ll be pretty useless now.” Oof, the burn! Siblings should never miss out on an opportunity to rub it in!
That was just the way it was in our family. It’s just the way you’re brought up isn’t it, you learn to think your family is normal.
One cool thing is this family-ballbusting mindset really helped me when ballbusting became popular at my school. At that point things escalated, as some of my friends reminded me what it was like to bust someone who’d never been busted, which also took me out of my comfort zone since I’d never busted anyone other than Mike. By then I think my brother was used to it and his clankers had grown less sensitive by the constant, and I mean constant testicle barrage. More or less every day. Until I started nutbusting all the boys at my school (I’m such a ballbusting slut lol), I had pretty much forgotten what a normal reaction to getting the shit kicked out of your dick was like.
One final thing I’ll say though, that one notable difference between busting your brother and busting a sub or boyfriend can be day and night. One notable difference is obviously, there’s nothing sexual about it. Mike never ever sexually enjoyed mine or Mum’s funny ball-pranks, whereas usually or at least, often, the subs and boyfriends at least get something sexual out of the experience. I honestly don’t mind either way, but it seems to be nicer ultimately if the boy gets to get a few jollies out of the experience, at least some time down the road. And I’m nothing if not nice!
Let me know in the comments if you have any examples of your family busting your nuts or if you wish they did 😉
That was a great read. Sounded a lot like my sister except she never did anything quite as brutal. Did he grow to like you busting him?
Hi Stacy, absolutely brilliant account and I’m so glad you decided to do it. I too grew up with a ballbusting younger sister who learnt from a very young age about my weakness. Many was the time we also fell out over the remote control (such a bone of contention 😅) and I was left rolling around on the floor, moaning in agony.
i so wish i had had a Sister close in age growing up. i do think all young Girls should be taught the arts of Femdom generally and ballbusting in particular by Their Mothers as a route to a total Female-Led society. You say Your brother never got anything sexual out of You busting him, but i’d be very surprised if he didn’t secretly. Like almost all males i would be pretty sure he borrowed Your dirty panties from the laundry to sniff and jerk-off with while fantasising about You repeating the experience.
In my case was my cousin who kneed me in presence of my sisters and her sisters (i was the only boy). Since then I had to stand a lot of jokes and threatens, sometimes even they did it in front of friends.
My cousin loved to punch, kick and knee my testicles ever since she watched me play a wrestling video game where a female fighter punched my character’s groin and watched him roll on the floor holding his balls. It seemed like ever since that day she just got the idea to punch and kick my testicles all the time
what game was that?
At that age boys are getting erections non-stop and for me the biggest fear and turn on was getting kicked in the dick when I had a boner, especially if the girl made me hard on purpose. There was one who used to enjoy doing just that. Please don’t forget to write about kick and torture dicks too, the tip is more sensitive than balls in my opinion.
If she can floor a man for 10 minutes with an elbow. Think of what a kick or knee can do
like my sister! ouch! I am 4 years older but when she discovered muy weakness she kicked my balls for all!
She always wins arguments about watch TV 😖
Jaja sisters always Kick in brother’s balls, mine too! 😵
My sister kicked me many times in the nuts. In a comment to your 4 ways you tricked boys blog, I fully describe the first time she kicked me in the balls by tricking me. It didn’t end there, though. Most serious arguments resulted in her “giving me the look” and sometimes tapping her foot. She would tap her foot and look down to my crotch, then up to me. Most times that was enough for my balls to retract into my body in fear as I turned tail and ran, lol. But sometimes I would get stupid and not heed her warning. Or sometimes she would just boot me hard between the legs without any warning. That nearly always resulted in me balling my eyes out over my broken balls.
When I was 11 I was at my friend Bill’s house. We were swimming in the pool and his older sister of 14 Jodie and her friend came for a swim. Jodie and Bill argued because she couldn’t find the sunscreen. Bill climbed out and got it from under his towel and squirted some onto Jodie’s back while she was sitting and talking to her friend. Bill and I found it incredibly amusing. The argument continued after Jodie and her friend got in until Jodie took her friend to one side of the pool and were whispering to each other. The friend was shaking her head as if she was hesitant about something. Jodie broke away and came towards us. She stood directly in front of Bill, slightly crouching in a partial lunge/kneel and was just staring at him. Bill was like ‘What do you want?’ I couldn’t see much of what happened under the water but Jodie suddenly stood up straight and Bill squealed and grabbed onto the side of the pool, his face contorted in pain. He was crying hard and limped out of the pool before falling in a heap on the deck.
Jodie’s friend was giggling and Jodie was smiling ear to ear. I was busy watching Bill trying to understand what had happened and until she was there I didn’t see Jodie approaching me. She stood right in front of me, her head level with mine. For some reason I twisted my hips to the side. I told Jodie that she was a bitch and then I felt a hard thump in the side of my hip. She tried to crack my nuts.
I regret twisting my hips. Ever since that day, knowing that a girl had consciously determined that I deserved to have her knee thrust hard, directly into my fragile testicles and she had attempted to do it but that I had thwarted it, has caused me to constantly dwell on it. It was my fate, I was supposed to be curled up on the deck next to Bill on that day but it didn’t happen. So sad.
my sister only did it once she is ten years older when I was about 15 years old I went down in my underpants in the morning and pulled something bent and legs wide apart from the fridge when she came in. a little later she gave me that kick between my legs that I didn’t see coming the pain was bad. lay curled up for half an hour later she said saw your business hanging between your legs and couldn’t resist
but am often confronted with my weakness by girls one in the neighborhood that I often had a fight with often kicked me there.
not to mention my best friend’s younger sister
we used to tease her often this ended up getting one or both of us a kick punch or knee in the balls.
once i got there and just saw that she angrily gave my friend a knee i put my bike down and felt her shoe in my balls. i was kicked from behind. we both lay down again.
it happened that sometimes a girl from my class did it but that was rare
It only happened once when I was growing up with my sister and I asked for it. Never wore a cup before and had to get one for baseball when I was 10 and she was about 15. Put it on all proud and wanted someone to test it to see if it really wouldn’t hurt. Trouble was that I hadn’t adjusted the cup right and there was part of a ball sticking out under the edge. She kicked me as hard as she could with a pair of tennis shoes on and I went down crying for a good long while.
You talked about some family experiences like with your mom for example, it would be great if you made a blog counting the moments that your mom said or did ballbuster things
even though your brother behaved like an arrogant idiot, i really feel sorry for the ball he lost, i wonder when you realized that, did you feel sorry for him or was it just the result of another prank lol?
Did your brother really lose a ball?