I grew up in Florida in the 90s and went to a religious school. When I was in 7th grade I was a year younger than everyone else and a lot of the girls there were beasts. I never got kicked in the balls, but it seemed like all the popular boys did, for any reason, at the drop of a hat. The worst one was this girl Ginny. She had a face like a battle axe and she was a few inches taller than even the biggest boy. She was 13 while everyone else was about 12, and I was 11. Any chance she’d get she’d kick a kid’s balls.
I stressed about getting kicked in the balls all the time. It embarrassed and scared me.
Years went by and I got the internet, at some point I noticed it turned me on. Then I found that I wasn’t the only one.
Anyone else go to a religious school find that the girls were meaner or is it just me?
PS I messaged her one day like 20 years later and she denied ever being the most vicious ballbuster in school. Claimed not to have any recollection.
Growing up various girls would kick me in the balls! At school, in the neighborhood, etc. It was so painful mixed with embarrassment / humiliation. Around this time there were a lot of movies where women would kick guys in the nuts and it turned me on. So, my own experiences mixed with watching it on TV gave me a complex about it!
When I was a teenager I’d be watching some movie with all my sisters and their girlfriends or something. I’m the only guy in a big family of girls. Some guy on TV would get hit in the balls and all the girls would laugh. It was deeply humiliating but I had to pretend like it was no big deal. But truly my face was flush with hot embarassment. Sometimes one of the friends would try to hit me in the nuts as a joke, and sometimes one would succeed. Later I’d be in my room and jerk it, thinking about how they laughed at me and wishing they’d kick me in the balls again. I couldn’t explain it, but there you go. I’m glad that there’s a community of ballbusters out there who understand where I’m coming from, although still I can’t expliain it. Seems like no one can. Though what Stacy writes makes sense to me, when she talks about the boy reliving and controlling the experience. I read it in her blog somewhere.
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