Femdom: Kicks

After five more minutes of boring conversation with the man to her right, Alessia made her excuses, checked for texts from Callum, and headed to room 422. As she passed the CEO's table she saw, to her delight, that the place set for Howard Marshall was unused. In fact, Howard was still in his room. By now his balls had swollen to the size of a grapefruit between his legs, and he lay on his bed with three little chilled bottles of wine from the minibar against his testicles, trying to reduce the swelling, still firmly believing that he must not masturbate. Alessia smiled to herself.

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Callum's room was identical to hers, aside from the spicy cedar wood scent of his aftershave that hung in the air, and the clothes he had left strewn across the floor. She walked around the circumference of his room, trailing her finger as she searched for cameras.

"Why aren't you naked yet?" she asked, casually.

"Er, I...." Callum stammered, quickly shrugging off his jacket and urgently tugging his tie from his neck, "I didn't want to assume..."

She turned to look at him, throwing him one of her dark looks.

"We've been here before Callum, there are certain things that you CAN assume."

"Yes Alessia, sorry Alessia," he grovelled as he continued to strip himself bare.

When he was completely naked and standing in the clichéd conventional pose of having his hands over his rapidly stiffening penis, she stopped inspecting his room and took him by his wrists, bringing them to his neck. He automatically interlocked his fingers behind his head, and trembled as Alessia's fingers stalked their way over his chest and down his tummy.

When she reached his groin, she circumnavigated his cock, which was now throbbing and twitching with excitement, and looped a finger and thumb around the base of his balls. She slipped the loop down his pendulous scrotum until his balls were gathered in the palm of her hand, and held them up with a firm grasp.

Looking him in the eye, she asked, sweetly, "Did you like it when I broke your balls last time?"

The question was entirely rhetorical of course, given that he had once again let the wolf into his room, and stripped naked for her.

"Yes Alessia, it was the most exciting night of my life," he admitted, "I've dreamt about it many times since."

Alessia smiled broadly and uncontrollably, then she squeezed his balls hard in her fist. She felt those two oval nuggets slip around in his sack until there was no more room for manoever, then she tightened her grip some more, crushing them together.

Callum groaned, doubled over slightly, and brought himself to his tiptoes, all the time returning her stare, looking deep into her dark eyes as she tormented him.

"Nice dreams I hope?" she teased.

"Oh, oh," he winced, "the best dreams!"

She pulled his poor balls upward, causing him to extend his tiptoed posture, lifting one foot, then the other, off the floor in an attempt to relive the strain on his stretched scrotum.

"Shall I pull them off?" She teased, bringing her other hand into play, and tugging him even higher.

"Oh, oh," he winced again, "please kick me with your ballbusters!"

She held him for a moment longer, squeezing and tugging at his testicles, then let go suddenly, allowing him to drop back to his feet.

"Ok," she said, sharply.

She turned around. "Unzip me," she said.

A strand of her hair had broken from her ballerina bun, and trailed down her delicate neck. Callum held it aside while he located the little black zip tab, then he ground the zip through the tiny plastic teeth to the small of her back. His eyes were drawn to a neat series of little rectangular tattoos that extended down the centre of her back as though a miniature reflection of her spine. He'd thought that, if she had tattoos, they would be flowers.

Now, she turned back to face him, took two steps back, held the hem of her little black cocktail dress, and lifted it slowly up her body. She bent forward, tugged the dress over her head, gathered it in her hands, and tossed it unceremoniously onto the bed. In the dim light of the bedroom, her naked skin looked almost golden.

Next, she grabbed her bra with both hands between the cups, and pinched them together so that the clasp fell apart. When she let the cups separate, Callum could see that the heavy padding was not to give her a fuller bust, but to stop the two thick, heavy bars that pierced her nipples from showing through her dress. He gasped loudly; the fact that she would decorate herself in such a barbarous way excited him somehow.

She bent down to slip her knickers off, struggling as they tangled on her chunky shoes, then stood before him, naked but for her stockings and shoes. Her pussy was completely shaven and her labia majora formed into a camel toe that completely hid her vulva.

With her diminutive height, small chest and shaved pussy she would have looked much younger than her years, had the look on her face not conveyed the confidence of years of experience.

Alessia picked her little handbag from the bed, unclasped it, and brought out her small, black rubber ball gag.

"Alessia," Callum said as the ball neared his mouth, "speak to me in Italian..."

The tooth-marked ball reached his lips and he opened wide. She pushed it home, opening his jaw wide, slipped the strap over his head, and pulled it tight.

"Come un agnello da macello," she said softly.

Finally, Alessia took a red nylon cord from her handbag with a little loop on one end, and a large loop on the other. She slipped the large loop over Callum's head, and tucked his pendulous balls into the smaller one. When she had pulled it tight, his testicles were held high on his body, just below his navel. His long, thick cock jutted forlornly to one side as though it were some pointless and unwanted appendage.

Callum looked confused.

"Men so want to be beaten," Alessia cooed, stroking each of his captive balls with the tips of her fingers. The attention sent blood rushing into his forgotten cock. "They dream about it, masturbate about it, but when it comes down to it, the experience never lasts as long as it does in their fantasies... the pain quickly overcomes the lust."

She thought about her conquest of Howard earlier that evening, how he had shaken his head to admit defeat after only five kicks to his balls.

"So," she continued, inching closer to him so that her bare skin almost touched his, "your testicles are on your tummy now, and I will have my fun before I let them down."

Callum could feel the heat of her body and smell her floral perfume.

"Get ready," she ordered.

Callum parted his knees, causing him to squat ever so slightly while Alessia stepped back to position herself. She brought her right foot up and tapped him twice between his legs with the bridge of her foot, then she quickly kicked him hard on his stretched perineum. He cried out immediately, and collapsed a little, almost reaching the floor before regaining control of his legs and righting himself. He opened his legs wide again.

Allesia smiled at his submission, and kicked him three times more before he finally unclasped his hands and landed on his knees. The heavy bars through her nipples tugged delightfully as her small tits bounced.

"Alzarsi, verme," she commanded.

Callum's balls were safe for now, but his crotch stung and throbbed, and he knew that his flesh was bruising. He gave himself a moment and was almost ready to attempt to stand again when he felt her tugging him up by his ear. He stood immediately but could not bring himself to part his knees until Alessia suddenly delivered a hard slap to his exposed testicles. He buckled momentarily at the new form of abuse, then straightened himself and parted his knees, assuming the position that he knew she wanted to see him in.

Now Alessia kicked him hard in the crotch three more times, punctuating each kick with the words, "patetico," "piccolo," and "verme."

Callum took this punishment, and bravely accepted five more fierce assaults before he finally bucked again and cowered on the floor with his hands rubbing his crotch. His perineum already felt hot and swollen.

"Alzarsi, verme," she demanded again, "Get up!"

Callum squatted then, stupidly and without thinking, one of his hands slipped from his crotch and around his dejected but stiff cock. Alessia immediately let forth a torrent of abuse in Italian, slapping his hand from his cock, then slapping the cock itself. Callum realised that he had acted without permission, but her assault on his cock brought his passion to a boil, and he looked at her with a look of pure lust, begging her to slap his shaft like that again.

Alessia took no notice. She grabbed him firmly by his cock, and pulled him to his feet.

She took two steps back and attempted to scowl at him with utter distain, but the look on his pretty face that admitted his masochistic desires only made her want him more. She could still feel the moist warmth of his cock in the palm of her hand, and her pussy bullied her constantly for some attention.

Callum laced his fingers behind his head and parted his knees. If she would not torture his cock, then at least he could enjoy the rapture of her continued assault on his crotch.

Alessia lunged forward and kicked him twice more. He crumpled again, but remained upright.

Now Alessia stepped forward, slackened the red cord, and slipped the loops from his neck and scrotum. The intimacy of her nimble fingers near his neglected cock brought him back to full erection, and when she had finished, his long cock jutted forward parallel to the floor, causing his testicles to dangle tantalisingly between his legs.

"Get yourself ready for the main course" she said.

Callum dutifully spread his legs wide and bent his knees, offering himself to her.

Alessia took her weight on her left leg, and swung her right leg back and forth, tapping Callum's pendulous balls lightly a couple of times, then she stepped back once, came forward, and swung her foot hard into his testicles. He felt the sting of the impact, the sharp pain as his already tender perineum was squashed once again, then the immediate, nauseating cramp of his testicles being flattened. He groaned loudly around the ball in his mouth, and doubled over slightly. The pain was excruciating, but the joy of having sweet Alessia cruelly abusing his precious testicles was erotic beyond words, as was the certain knowledge that she found sexual satisfaction in being so cruel. He saw her as a predator, and he the willing prey. How intoxicating it was to let her catch him and have her fun. Her cruelty was like a drug, and he needed her to hurt him again and again.

Alessia stood before him and gave him a moment to absorb what she had just done to him, just as she had done with Howard. In her experience, the first kick a man received to his testicles was not necessarily the most painful, but there was a lot of physical and mental shock that had to be processed. She sat on the edge of Callum's bed, and tugged her shoes and stockings off so that she was completely naked. Callum groaned, rocked, and clutched at his traumatised balls, then Alessia stood up again to continue her assault barefoot.

She teased him once or twice, moving as though she was going to kick him, but stopping just short of her hanging target, watching his sweaty face as he panicked, then delivered another firm kick to his poor testicles. She felt the bridge of her bare foot reach his soft scrotum, then his balls slip either side of her foot in the millisecond it took to impact into his crotch.

He squealed, and began to hop up and down, and Alessia could not contain her amusement. She bounced around like a boxer, laughing as he wobbled, and before he could regain his composure, she kicked him again in his bollocks. This time neither of his testes avoided the full impact of her foot against his pelvis, and she felt them squash. He immediately fell to his knees and grabbed his poor globes.

Drunk on her success, Alessia tapped him firmly in the balls even while he covered them with his hands. Her pussy was burning with desire now, and the bars through her nipples had tugged them erect. She wondered, not for the first time, why kicking a man in his balls was better than sex, and why, despite that fact, she still wanted to let him ram his hot shaft into her and surrender his seed to her selfish pussy. Impatiently, she smacked Callum's hands aside and took hold of his wilting penis, tugging him back to his feet.

"Smetti di fare la femminuccia" she laughed, before delivering another strike to his balls.

This time he remained standing, but her last kick came immediately afterwards, and he finally crumpled to the ground. He cowered on his knees, one hand supporting his body and the other clutching at his poor, broken balls. Hot pain had crept into his legs and back. The sickness in his stomach brought water to his mouth.

"Ancora?" she asked, sweetly, "Again?"

Callum looked at her briefly, then shook his head.

Alessia was delighted with her work. It would have been nice to kick him some more, but by keeping his balls out of the way at the beginning, she had already delivered many more kicks than a man could usually take. There was, however, one more game she would play with him.

She bade him to kneel up, slipped the strap of the gag over his head, and retrieved the bitten ball. Like Howard had done earlier that evening, he immediately massaged his jaw.

Alessia stood with her body close to his, her crotch just below his eye level. Her legs were parted slightly, but still her puffy camel toe kept its secrets. She knew that he would not be able to see her most private flesh unless she spread herself for him, but there was no disguising her scent - after the repeated, vigorous movement of her legs, her pussy juices coated her puffy labia majora, and her thighs were glowing with perspiration. She had no doubt that he could smell her natural scent over her pear blossom and white jasmine perfume.

"Lie on your tummy and hold your little cock," she commanded.

Callum shakily lay flat on the floor, his face, chest and stomach against the utilitarian carpet, his legs spread. His hips rested on his arms so that his hands could reach his cock which was now soft after Alessia's abuse. This was in no way any indication of his state of mind - despite the softness of his cock, he was still desperately horny. Callum recalled that he had once hired a prostitute in Glasgow to fuck him with a strap on, and she had explained to him in her gravelly Glaswegian accent that men were often amusingly soft when they were abused - even when they remained horny.

Alessia had beaten Callum's balls into submission and yet he still willingly obeyed. "Sei un bravo ragazzo," she praised, "Such a good boy".

She bent down, rooted between his legs, and took his scrotum in her hand, pulling it back so that it lay on the carpet between his parted legs. Then she stepped on his swelling testicles with the ball of her right foot, and allowed her two largest toes to part around his sack. With his scrotum held captive between her toes, she began to rub her foot back and forth, rolling his delicate testicles into the carpet.

He cried out.

"Shut up!" She commanded, but she did not lessen the pressure on his tender jewels.

He bit his lip and looked up at her, watching as she slipped two fingers into her camel toe pussy to find her aching clitoris. Then she began to slowly pleasure herself, teasing her own pussy slowly despite its screaming urgency, feeling Callum's testicles squashing and rolling on the well-trodden carpet beneath her foot. He rubbed his cock, giving himself the pleasure of masturbation even though it refused to get hard.

Had Alessia not already beaten his balls into submission, Callum may have been able to take the crushing of his nuts like a man. As it was, he groaned and winced as quietly as he could as the weight of Alessia's little body concentrated on the ball of her naked foot to crush his sensitive globes into the coarse carpet. He watched her masturbate above him, pumped his semi-erect cock with his fist, and hoped that this moment would never end.

Soon Alessia's mindful desire to prolong her pleasure was overcome by the carnal urgency of her pussy - it wanted to be rubbed vigorously and to cum hard. It was days since she'd masturbated to orgasm, weeks since she'd done it above a man, and the desire to cum rose quickly in her. She rubbed harder and faster, and tried to concentrate only on the feel of Callum's hot balls under the sole of her foot and the skin of his scrotum between her toes.

When she reached the point of no return, she bent her knees a little more, leant over slightly, pressed Callum's balls hard into the ground, and came to the sound of his uncontrollable groans. Her orgasm was violent, the feel of his fat, punished balls against the naked sole of her foot doubled her pleasure, and she shook as she came above him, her trembling legs ground him into the carpet. Droplets of her juices splashed onto his back as she punished herself through her orgasm. Callum's fist finished it's job, and as his dominatrix shuddered in orgasm above him, he pumped a puddle of cum from his flat scrotum and into the carpet beneath his tummy.

When Alessia had come down from her high and stopped shaking, she ordered him to remain on the floor in his own slippery mess while she quickly dressed.

"May I see you outside of work Alessia?" Callum asked from the floor.

Alessia gave him her wickedest of all smiles, her heart ablaze with delight. "You may," she said as she stepped over him and headed for the door.

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By the time Alessia arrived back at the bar, the party was in full swing. The loud men had gotten louder, their inhibitions put away for the night. She found her friends at a booth table, sat beside Gaielle, who patted the vinyl beside her, and poured herself a red wine from the plethora of bottles that her friends had liberated from the dining tables. The hours passed, the wine flowed, and Alessia left the bar late and giddy.

The thought of seeing Howard again that night had not crossed her mind in the bar, but as she passed room 508 on her way to her own, a wicked thought came into her head.

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HOWARD 2

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Howard had received dozens of texts from the bum lickers and his network-savvy peers, but no one had visited him personally to check that he was ok. He'd thought that at least one person would come to see him, but he was still surprised when he heard a knock on his door, given that it was now 1:30 in the morning.

When he spied that his visitor was Alessia, he opened the door immediately, and she strode confidently in without a word. She didn't check for cameras this time, just stood with her hands on her hips while Howard closed the door and subconsciously pulled the white hotel-issue dressing gown tight around him.

"Take your robe off and get on the bed," Alessia commanded.

Despite the intimacy they had shared earlier in the evening, Howard found removing his gown somehow humiliating. He lowered himself on to the bed and lay on his back, his heavy belly making him look like a beached whale. Between his legs, his balls were purple, black and red, and still swollen to the size of a small grapefruit. This made his little prick seem even more insignificant - even though he was now fully erect again, as it poked out from within the swelling.

Alessia knelt on the bed so that she could reach him, then, with her left hand, slapped his inner thighs until he took the hint to part his legs wide. She took his swollen globe in her hand and held it firmly - she didn't want to hurt him again just yet, but she wanted him to feel the peril of having his sensitive, battered balls in her cruel hand.