CBT: Cock and Ball Torture!!

Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!

Well, to be more accurate, great balls on fire. That’s right Lovers, this weekend was my first illuminating (not to mention squirm inducing) CBT class! Yes, I have finally delved into the murky waters of cock and ball torture, swiping pubic clumps of seaweed to the left and right of me as I make my way through the depths, goggles firmly in place.

But what a swim it was!

I arrived at the location a touch early, so was able to take in my surroundings and a few of the other participants who were dead keen to mash some balls into a pulp (all consensually of course!) I had to grin, as the building was exactly the same as I remembered it. How did I remember it, I hear you ask Lovers? Well this was the exact same building that had held all the wonders of The Festival of Really Good Sex. I breathed deep, revelling in that slightly musky, slightly lubricated scent that still hung heavily in the air. Oh yes, this building had seen a thing or two, and today would be no different.

One thing I did notice about my fellow cajone crushing compatriots was the distinct love of a good high impact hair colour. Purples, blue’s and green’s all brushed fluffily past me as we walked through the doors into the den of inequity. I felt quite boring with my mousey brown hair, but all of that was quickly forgotten when we all took a seat around the conspicuous looking massage table. I chatted merrily away to Anna, my new found friend I had discovered through FORGS. We were so engrossed in our conversation in fact (looking at the fantastic new lingerie store Anna had found and was utilising for her next swingers party costume) that we only looked up after hearing the titular snap of a latex glove. Our heads shot up, only to come face to face with an angry mistress, glaring down her nose at us for daring to hold up proceedings with our chatter.

“Sorry!” I squealed, intimidated instantly.

Oh yeah, she was good, that was for certain.

Once we’d been put firmly in our place, Mistress Tokyo began the schooling.

And good god were we schooled Lovers!

The first thing our mistress did was empty out her bag of ‘goodies.’ And when I say goodies I mean every form of pain inducing implement you can think of. Spinal syringes, saline solution, sounds, ball weights, metal chastity belts, piercing needles, a whole range of medieval veterinary equipment and, most worryingly, a surgical stapler.

What had we walked into?!

Here was little old me thinking we’d just learn how to twist the odd nut into a slightly painful position, and now we were getting instructions on how to surgically sterilise our sex toys! Interestingly enough Lovers, if you don’t have enough cash or enough inclination to shell out for your very own autoclave (aka big ass sterilizing machine) you can actually ask your local piercing joint to do it for you! I mean you have to get past the awkward moment of handing over your dirty torture tools, but after that part it’s easy!

So after we realised we would have to get our first aid certificates to carry out some CBT (not a joke, Mistress Tokyo was very clear on this point, even going so far as to tell us all the horrifying things that could go wrong. We’re talking shudder inducing injuries here people) we were allowed to pick what specific tools and methods we would like to torture our ‘volunteer’ with.

After some discussion, it was decided that Mistress Tokyo’s bunny would first be subjected to a ‘twitch,’ before some sounding, saline injections and stapling. That’s right Lovers, I got to see the stapling…. Ouch.

I had to laugh at the crestfallen faces of the few ladies who weren’t able to have their requests fulfilled. One lady was dead keen to see the poor guys wang skewered with every type of needle under the sun. Sadly MT had to inform her that she only had three or four of the right needles and as such, could not give the bloke a good enough stab. Another girl was frothing at the mouth to watch the guy get semi elastrator castrated (yes it’s as scary as it sounds) where basically a teeny tiny rubber band that no penis was ever made to fit through would be snapped onto his skin flute and cut off the circulation to his most treasured appendage.

You can understand why our strapping volunteer chose to decline this particular method of torture. It’s all fun and games until someone loses a body part!

So, once the logistics were out of the way, MT slid on yet another set of gloves (she seriously went through almost an entire box in our two hour session, sorry to all the recyclers out there!)

Now Lovers, I have never been particularly keen on sounding, well, not keen on doing it to someone I like that is. People who piss me off though, oh boy I’d sound them till the cows came home! The thing is I always thought that sounding was painful (and after all, we were in a cock and ball torture class were we not?) It certainly looked painful in every terribly made porno I’d ever watched. You know the one’s. It’s always some poor guy sitting on a badly made bed getting a dildo shoved down his peephole while some busty blonde laughs angrily at him the whole time.

No? Just me? Well trust me Lovers, those videos are out there, you just have to find them. (Ooh it’s like a naughty little scavenger hunt!)

Soooo, you can imagine my surprise when MT’s bunny not only didn’t flinch or wince, but actually seemed to relax! It was a little hard to watch in the beginning, I’ll admit, just because we assumed it would be so painful. That and the fact that occasionally you could see the other end of the sound poking out through his skin like some weird little penis alien. Even Sigourney would have quavered at that sight!

Maybe it didn’t hurt due to the copious amounts of lube MT poured on the thing before she inserted it. The lube was so thick and plentiful it practically added an inch to the sound. Obviously it helped though, as it eased in seemingly without resistance. I couldn’t help myself, “Does it hurt?” I squeaked, afraid if I spoke too loudly I’d upset MT’s concentration and send her hand flying off in a different direction, taking the poor dude’s pork sword with her. Much to my relief though, her measured movements were not affected by my curiosity, and her bunny sighed a contented sigh before he answered me.

“No it doesn’t hurt at all, it’s just a bit of pressure.”

Hmm, interesting… I think now I have a better idea of what sounding would feel like. I reckon it’s like that moment when you have sex for the first time (lord now we’re going back) and you can feel the dude pressing against your hymen? I think that’s it. Obviously that feeling changes as soon as he smashes through your poor little hymey, but the moment before that with the pressure you feel, I think that’s as close to the feeling of sounding as us ladies will get.

Anyways, moving on to the next section… the twitch! So I couldn’t figure out if it sounded scary or cute, but as soon as MT hefted the thing in her hand I knew we were definitely on the scary side.

So here’s a fun fact for you Lovers, a twitch is what vets used to use on horses to distract them while they worked on the horse. Apparently they’d clamp the horse’s tongue or nose (aw poor thing) and the horse would then focus on that pain rather than whatever the vet was doing. Kind of like the whole idea of punching someone in the nose so they don’t think about their broken arm…

Remember, these things were done in the 1800’s people.

Anyways, MT went about clamping the twitch under her bunny’s yogurt slinger and above his profiteroles, firmly locking that bad boy into place with a ferocious twist. As painful as we assumed this would be, once again our fearless bunny barely batted an eyelid. What’s more, MT explained that the twitch was actually quite boring… when used by itself. She went on to describe all manner of secondary tools you could use once you have your bunny firmly clamped. You could attach the other end to some rope and lead your bunny around like the horses of old. You could attach the rope to something just out of reach and get some stretch going on. You could set his pubes on fire (although technically you can do that without the twitch as well.) The list goes on! However, just in case you were wondering Lovers, this is not the tool for ball crushing, as the sneaky little buggers tend to move around too much and are difficult to clamp.

Ah nuts!

Can’t win ‘em all I guess. Speaking of nuts though, MT went on to divulge possibly one of the most disturbing sexual practices I have ever heard of. Now I’m not one to get queasy easily at such things, but holy Jesus this was heavy!

Ever heard of lychee play Lovers?

On first hearing I thought it must be like when your lychee’s get stuck at the bottom of your cocktail and you have to wield your straw as a sword and try and stab the slippery little suckers.

Alas, I was wrong.

Lychee play is where your torturer (hopefully a highly trained medical professional who just happens to moonlight as a mistress in her downtime) cuts open your ballsack with a scalpel and removes your testicle! That’s right Lovers, we’re practically talking surgery! So once she has taken your little man from its cosy home, she then plays with it, squeezing it, tugging it and anything else she can get away with while still keeping it attached to your body. Then once she’s had her fun (and if you’re into hopefully you’ve had your fun too) she pops it back into its little hidey-hole and sews that bad boy up.

What the actual fuck?!

Even MT was put off by lychee play. Apparently she witnessed the act in Japan while she was learning from a famous Japanese mistress (now that’s the type of work experience I could get into!) and afterwards she had to go have a little lie down. I don’t blame her one bit. It takes a certain person to cut a man open with a smile on your face. The man in question that was cut open bloody loved it though, even filming the episode so he could watch it again and again!

I really must visit this Japan place, the people sound most… intriguing.

So, once we’d all recovered from the shock of lychee play it was on to some saline injections! Woop woop! MT was quick to tell us that she was only injecting 30mls of saline at this time.

I’m sorry, only?

30mls seems like a hell of a lot of anything to get injected into your ballsack! MT assured us that this amount was miniscule however, and regaled us with the story of the time she hooked a bunny up to a drip and got a whole litre in there. I don’t quite know what was more interesting, her story or the blissful look of satisfaction on her face as she told us.

I’d say it was a tie.

We all sat and watched, mouths slightly open as MT loaded up her syringes with 10mls of saline each. She carefully probed around her bunny’s love spuds for a good fleshy bit of skin, before ever so delicately sliding in the needle.

The intake of breath around the room was audible as we all sucked in air through our teeth, anticipating the bunny’s pain for him. Suffice to say the first needle did seem to sting a little. But after the first one he seemed to quite enjoy that burning sensation. As MT was slowly filling her bunny’s giggle berries with saline, she told us all about the things you should never do. Apparently you can actually go too far with CBT (after what we’d seen and heard already I wasn’t sure just how much further it was possible to go!) But of course, where there’s a will there’s a way, and some boys are willing to go a long way.

Anyone keen on skewering?

Yes Lovers, it really is as painful as it sounds. The act of skewering involves stabbing an implement through the testicles (you heard right Lovers, straight through) and the out the other side. MT flat our refuses to do it. In fact, she refuses to do any sort of CBT that involves puncturing the actual testicles.

That’s a pretty fair boundary I’d say.

However, what was interesting was the multitude of other things that were permissible in the crazy world of CBT. As much as we all flinched when she mentioned it, MT assured us that nailing someone’s sweetmeats to a piece of wood (or any sort of surface for that matter) is quite the normal practice in the CBT community. As long as you make sure the nail doesn’t go through their actual nuts at all you’re good to go! Another lady in MT’s circle has quite the curious speciality.

She sews peoples buttholes shut.

But whyyyyy?

Aren’t people’s kinks and fetishes so interesting? What makes someone think, ‘God, today I’m just really in the mood for…something. But what? Ooh! I’ll sew my but closed! That’ll hit the spot.” Love it.

Anyways, once bunny’s bean bags had been syringed sufficiently, MT took a step back to let us all have a cheeky squiz. Turns out 30mls really isn’t that much! I honestly couldn’t see where the saline was supposed to be. I had expected to see big bulges but there was nothing but a few pinpricks of blood to mark the trauma that had just occurred to his poor little swingers.

But if I thought that was traumatic, I was about to get quite the shock.

From the bag of goodies, MT pulled one of her most prized possessions. The surgical stapler.

Dum, Dum, DUM!

So up until this point Lovers, our volunteer bunny really hadn’t seemed to be in too much bother. He’d been twitched, sounded and syringed, but nary a painful peep had he made.

Boy was that about to change.

MT readied her stapler, poised over his quivering (and thanks to the saline, now slightly plump) sack. She looked deep into his eyes, and then they began to breathe. Deep inhalations together, followed by blissful (not to mention loud) exhalations brought them together as one. A wild look of glee came into MT’s eyes as she sucked a deep breath of air in through her nose and lowered the staple gun.

Click.

Oh boy did her bunny feel that staple! For a guy who had been relatively quiet the whole time, the howl that emanated from that massage table was intense! MT didn’t let up though, she went in for another staple,

Click!

And another.

Click!

And then quite a few more.

Click, click CLICK!

Fifteen staples Lovers, fifteen! Now if that wasn’t enough to make you squirm, what she did next is sure to get you going. After massacring his balls with staples, MT grabbed them tightly and squeezed.

Hard.

Dayum, did he wail!

I could hear the next class arriving outside and had to giggle at the thought of what they could hear out there.

But inside the room it was all eyes on balls. Not only was it an amazing thing to watch, but the theatrics of MT made it so much more of an experience. I say theatrics, but she wasn’t doing it for us, she wasn’t playing to the crowd or anything. Well I don’t think so anyway. It just seemed like their natural relationship, MT and her bunny. You just intrinsically knew that they were in it together, giving and receiving the pain, but both gaining so much from their separate roles. He wanted it. She wanted to do it. We wanted to watch. It was pure unadulterated sensation.

MT twisted, she tugged and she squeezed, all the while eliciting painful yelps and groans from her bunny until blood began to ooze out of his tortured little teabags, . She grinned maniacally and held her finger to his mouth, getting him to lick the blood from her glove.

He was loving it.

And then all too soon the writhing and screaming was over. We all sat back in our seats, mentally exhausted from the two hour experience we had all just been through.

MT then retrieved another dangerous looking tool from her ‘sack’ and began to pull the staples out with a gentleness that stood out in stark comparison to the torture she had inflicted on her bunny mere moments ago. In an almost singsong voice she numbered every staple as she removed it, dropping them into an empty bottle beside her as she did so. Part of it was probably for our benefit, but I think the main reason she was counting was to make sure she got all of them out.

I assume there’s nothing worse than getting home to find a rogue staple still wedged betwixt your tender folds.

After she’d finished, MT made sure her bunny was alright, and they breathed their way back into the present moment, both of them still panting a little from their exertions.

Slowly but surely we filed out of the room. And although we hadn’t spoken to each other, all of us now had one thing in common; the image of a screaming bunny thrashing around on a massage table burned forever into our brains.

Until next time Lovers!

Claire xx

 

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