Kicked in the Balls by Carlete

Literotic asexstories – Kicked in the Balls by Carlete by MATT_TRIEWLY,MATT_TRIEWLY
“It’s time now, Matt, turn around, please,” she said.

I was completely naked and in the warm lounge of her house, the house her father had bought for her. She was naked too. Carlete.

My fear levels were rising, and I was having doubts – I was concerned that she could really injure me. But I worshipped her, was obsessed with her, and would do anything, anything, for her.

“Hands behind your back, Matt.”

I felt her slip the cold metal of the handcuffs over my wrist and click them shut.

“Thanks, now turn back round now, Matt.”

She came up to me, placed her hands gently on my shoulder, and kissed me sweetly on the lips, whilst rubbing my sensitive nipples, the effect of which was to make me rock hard.

“You really are a sweetie for doing this, Matt, and I can see that you’re very stiff now — excellent. Now twist round and bend over with your legs apart.”

I complied with her wishes.

There was a slight pause before she said with venom: “Take THAT Daddy, you CUNT!”

And then agony. Stratospheric levels of pain. Yet also weirdly exquisite. Straightening up. Sucking air through my teeth. Eyes screwed up. Falling to the carpet. Desperately and futilely attempting to clutch and cup and massage my testicles. Writhing around and praying to God to make it stop.

And then she was kicking me in the side and back with her bare feet, and shouting: “LOOK AT ME DADDY, LOOK AT WHAT YOU’VE MADE ME DO TO THIS INNOCENT MAN. LOOK AT ME DADDY!”

And I rolled over on my back, my handcuffed hands pressing into my back, and I looked, through my watering and blurry eyes, into her staring wild blue eyes forced wide with anger and craziness.

“LOOK AT ME, AGAIN, DADDY, LOOK AT THE DEPRAVED PERVERT YOU’VE MADE ME BECOME!”

With her long, pale, and toned slim legs astride of me, she clutched her shaven cunt with her right arm and began to finger herself firmly whilst the fingers of her left arm scissored the engorged nipple of her modest right breast and then began to rhythmically squeeze it. Within seconds she had thrown her head back, thrust out her groin, and had briefly shrieked in ecstasy as the juices from her vagina had dripped onto my stomach.

It was over.

Still breathing heavily, she leant down and released me from the handcuffs. I immediately grabbed hold of my balls, though by now the pain had subsided to bearable levels — I was tougher than I thought.

“I’m so sorry I had to do that to you Matt, but so grateful too. It’s like a Jekyll and Hyde thing, but hey, let me take you for a curry and have a chat, my treat…”

*

We were in the Tandoori an hour and a half later and sitting opposite each other. She was pleasant and calm and reasonable and sane — amazing the transformation that a ball kick and an orgasm can do for a girl.

I had been quietly watching her order a selection of vegetarian options from the menu. Looking at her long oval face, her pale complexion, her sky-blue eyes, her perfect teeth, her small yet slightly broad nose, her thin lips I concluded that she, Carlete, was good looking, attractive, but not beautiful or pretty. She was also tall, kind of statuesque, for a female at about five seven with naturally blonde straight hair that just reached onto her shoulders.

She was twenty-two; I was forty-four.

We were halfway through our meals — I had a Chicken Dhansak, and she a Vegetable Biriani with a portion of Onion Bhajis to share — when she said: “Look Matt, there’s probably a whole lot of questions you want to ask me. And while I’m not quite ready to share everything, there’s a few things I want to clarify. Firstly, I don’t rent that house that I live in, my father bought it for me. I mean, I could never afford the rent on the wages I get as a counter assistant at the building society, it’s a pittance. In fact, I don’t need to work at all as my father, Daddy, gives me a generous allowance to indulge myself in any way I like, and Daddy is very well off because he owns and runs a cosmetic surgery clinic, yeah rich is what he is.”

I picked up an Onion Bhaji, took a bite out of it and savoured the rich flavour…

“He lets me do what I want though he doesn’t know everything — obviously. All I have to do is turn up for the odd family meal or occasion, smile meekly, make the right small talk, and all is well. Cushy little life.”

“The problem is though is that underneath I hate him, resent him for making me dependent upon him, denying me the opportunity to stand on my own two feet. And what is worse he’s weak and allowed my mother to treat me like shit when I was younger, but I’m not going to go into details because I’ll just get emotional, let’s just say that she’d give Rosemary West a run for her money.”

“Fortunately, he got rid of her, however my stepmother is a money grabbing whore who would gladly cut me off if she had a chance, but so far so good. So, you can see why I’m a little fucked up, Matt, and into aspects of BDSM, and other dark stuff.”

“Maybe I’ll let you have a visit to my studio where you can tell me what you think of my paintings. Maybe Matt, I’ll get you to pose for one.”

“The other thing, Matt, is that I can smell a masochistic and submissive guy a mile off, I sensed it in you pretty much straightaway and that’s why we’re going to have so much fun in the next few weeks. Well, fun for me. Anyway, that’s enough about me for now. No, actually that’s a lie — it can never not be enough about me.” She giggled.

I just lifted a spoonful of spicy and hot curry to my mouth, my balls still aching, wondering if I wasn’t as crazy as her, wondering why it was I was under her spell…