My wife's friend, Sandra, had asked me if I could help her with some DIY. We'd been friends for years, and I'd always fancied her and had masochistic fantasies about her because she's quite big. I never said anything though.
She's taller than me, sturdily built with broad shoulders and long legs. She's a strong girl, brought up on a farm. She's quite pretty and has an infectious grin. Some people find her readiness to talk about sex a bit off-putting, especially other people's kinks and ways. I'd often fantasised about what it'd be like to have my balls in her strong hands. I was about to find out in a most unexpected way.
We'd just finished the DIY I was helping her with some rewiring and we were having coffee. We were chatting about this and that and I was conscious, as always, of an undercurrent of pervy thoughts running on in the background. She was so sexy and strong! I hadn't been able to stop stealing glances at her full breasts, her muscular forearms.
Then she dropped the question that would change my life.
"Did you see that programme about S&M sex the other night?" as she sipped coffee.
I tried to be nonchalant. I hadn't, but I'd wanted to. But I'd have been embarrassed to suggest it for the evening's viewing at our house.
"No. Any good?"
"They're weird. I don't understand it. All that...leather and fetish stuff."
"Yeah!" I agreed.
"I don't understand how people could get off on pain. I suppose I could understand someone enjoying hurting someone else if it was...you know...a mutual thing, if the person wants pain. Know what I mean? But I don't understand how anyone can actually enjoy being actually whipped."
"No," I agreed. Did she just say something about possibly enjoying hurting someone?
"Ages ago Julie told me you liked having your balls squeezed. Doesn't that hurt? Or is it...you know... pleasurable? Sexy?"
My wife Julie and Sandra had been friends for years. Julie used to indulge my kink a bit earlier in our marriage. She still gave my balls a bit of a squeeze in foreplay, but wasn't trying to hurt me. I wished she would. But now here was Sandra asking about it. Where might this end up? I began to get excited but embarrassed.
"Well, she used to do it. A bit. I can't remember. It was sort of...sexy, yes!"
Gulp! What was I saying? But she didn't seem bothered.
"But does all that fetish stuff turn you on? Like on that programme on telly? You know? As a bloke?"
"Well..." I tried to be honest and reasonable, "...only a bit. I mean, high heels make legs look sexy and can make them look...you know... muscley. And those heels could be dangerous, you know? But I'm not really into fetish stuff."
"But you'd enjoy having your balls...tortured?"
"Tortured?" I gulped. She was reading my mind!
"Sorry! You know...if she squeezed so it really hurt? Would you enjoy that?"
"Enjoy's the wrong word. I mean, it's a turn-on but it's still pain! You know?"
"Do you mean turned on...sexually?"
"Well...yes, I suppose!"
"Do you get a hard on if you think about it?"
" Well...yeah!"
"Are you getting hard now?"
This was one of those typical Sandra questions that people found difficult.
"I...well...I...yeah, sorry!"
She laughed, "Don't be sorry, it's natural! When Julie told me you liked having your balls squeezed I used to fantasise about squeezing them and I was a bit turned-on myself!"
My heart was hammering and my cock was hard in my jeans.
"How much would you like them being squeezed?" she asked, genuinely interested.
"Well...so that it...sort of...really hurts?"
"Does Julie do it like that?"
"Not as hard as I'd like. She doesn't want to hurt me, really."
"I don't want this to sound pervy, but would you like me to...squeeze your balls...really hard? I've been thinking about it and I'd really love to, if you want?"
"Wow, Sandra! Do you...do you want to?" I stuttered. Was this a dream coming true?
She laughed.
"Oh yeah I've fantasized so much about...torturing you since Julie mentioned it! But I'd want to squeeze and slap your balls until you're begging me to stop. But I might want to push you hard. You know? Actually hurting you?"
"Oh God! Oh yes!"
What was I saying?!!!
"What? You'd enjoy it if I actually...hurt you?"
"Well, no. I wouldn't actually enjoy it at the time I don't think. But I'd enjoy remembering about it afterwards. If that makes sense?"
"So, you wouldn't enjoy it? But you wouldn't mind if I did what I wanted to you even if you weren't enjoying it?"
"Well...yes!! That's it! But I might be quite...turned on...you know what I mean?" I was scared of being so honest with her.
"What do you mean?" she asked but I was pretty sure she knew what I meant, because she grinned.
"Well...I fantasise that you'd...you know...masturbate me but don't let me come, in between working on my balls."
There was a gleam in her eyes. Her next words frightened me.
"Shall we do it?"
They frightened me for two reasons. The first was that she might be less sadistic than in my fantasies. Would we be disappointed and embarrassed?
The second was that she might actually enjoy it.
"OK then!" I found myself saying.
Sandra moved next to me and placed her hand on my groin, rubbed gently with her knuckles. Then she undid the buckle on my belt, unzipped my fly and pushed her hand into my jeans. I squirmed a little. She found my balls. Took a grip on them. I gasped. I couldn't believe this was happening.
"Are you ready?" she grinned.
"I think so!" I gulped, smiled.
She immediately squeezed my balls hard and held them tight. I doubled over and grabbed her muscular arm but she kept hold and I began to cry out for her to stop. She released the pressure but kept my balls firmly in her hand.
"Let go of my arm," she cooly commanded. I did, embarrassed by my vulnerability. But it went against my natural instincts for self-protection. I fought to move my hands away. I fought to relax. Leaned back.
"Good! Now keep your hands to yourself..." She slowly and relentlessly began squeezing. My penis was swollen in the confined space of my trousers, and Sandra was well aware of it and pressed against it. She suddenly bore down on my balls with a tremendous grip and I was crying out again, doubled over and clawing at her powerful arm. She crushed my balls for a few moments more, despite my pleas and my desperate attempts to prise her hand off them.
Then she released her grip and pulled her hand out of my trousers. She was panting a little and looking at me hungrily. Then suddenly her expression changed, a concerned mask went up.
"I'm sorry...are you all right? I didn't hurt you, did I? Are you OK?" and she put an arm around me. I couldn't find a mask to put on. It'd hurt more than I imagined it would.
"No, I'm...phew!" I gasped trying to cope with the throbbing ache of my balls. She could squeeze really hard! I shouldn't have been surprised, but it was still a shock.
"No I'm OK thanks."
We were silent for a few moments. I was in a daze.
Sandra broke the spell in an apologetic and little-girly voice.
"Oh...I'm sorry! I forgot to do the...you know...wank you!"
My heart almost stopped. I was in pain, but I was also painfully aroused.
"I bet you'd love me to wank you off now, wouldn't you?" she grinned. "But what if I didn't let you come...I mean, that's what you fantasise about isn't it?"
Would Sandra really do this? Might she go along with it but really wank me to orgasm unintentionally or out of sympathy? My body was throbbing for an orgasm and she knew it.
"Yeah! Do you mean...? Would you...you know...wank me for a bit?...oh please!?" I tried innocently.
She seemed to calculate for a moment.
"OK," she smiled. "But first I'll have to tie you up."
She put her hand on my leg and slid it up to my crotch and my open fly. I flinched, but she just looked at the bulge in my jeans and rubbed her open hand against it.
"What do you think?" she asked, still looking at my crotch and rubbing. "Can I tie you up for a bit?"
I gulped.
"If you want to," I stammered. What was I saying?
"OK. You'd better take your clothes off then!" She moved her hand back down my thigh and gave my leg a gentle squeeze.
"...err...take my clothes off?"
"Yeah!" she grinned. "I might take some of mine off in a bit. You're always having sneaky peeks at my tits. I'll get them out for you if you strip off and let me tie you up."
So many thoughts flashed through my mind then - the thought of seeing more of her powerful body, her gorgeous tits, the thought of her strong hand pumping me to orgasm, that same strong hand crushing my testicles again when I'd be defenceless.
Well, what would you do?
So I was lying naked on the carpet, ankles tied to the legs of her big old dining table, stretching my legs apart. Sandra finished tying my wrists behind my back and made me lie down. It was uncomfortable lying on my tied wrists which were digging into my back but she pushed me down.
She knelt beside me and took hold of my cock. I made an involuntary groan of pleasure as she slowly began to move her hand up and down.
She looked into my face with an expression of amused curiosity and kept up a slow but steady pace. I kept glancing from her hand working at me so methodically and to her breasts pushing against the fabric of her shirt. My balls hadn't forgotten the punishment they'd recently received but I started to lose myself as waves of orgasm begun building up. I began panting and groaning a she carried on the same steady rhythm, grinning widely now.
Oh god! She was going to make me cum!
She could feel what was happening. She watched my face as I started to reach orgasm then suddenly took her hot hand off my throbbing and dribbling cock.
"There! Was that nice?" she asked.
I was breathless and writhing with frustration against my bonds. The orgasmic feeling was ebbing away but I was panting and my heart was racing with frustration. My cock was throbbing in the empty air, begging.
"Oh Sandra...oh god! Could you...you know...please just make me...let me...?" I blurted out.
"No. Not yet. Maybe in a bit. I'm enjoying myself too much! Do you want to see my tits now?"
