Target Practice

The noise in the windowless dance studio fell to a hush. The seven women in the Self Defense class looked at their teacher. She smiled.

“So, girls, we have a special treat this week. I know you’re all gotten tired of beating up mannequins, so Cynthia, here, has convinced her son, William, to let us use his naked balls for target practice today. All day long. So that you get a realistic impression of what it’s like to defend yourself against a man.”

All the women cheered and smiled. Their first real, live pair of nuts to practice on. Normally live men were padded up so that they wouldn’t suffer any damage, but this would be different. More authentic.

“So, I want you all to treat him as you would the mannequin. No holds barred, don’t hold back.” Pat turned to Cynthia. “Why don’t you bring him in, dear.” The woman nodded and left the building. She returned with her son in tow. He was about 5’10” and very handsome. He was fully dressed, in jeans and a flannel shirt.

“You’ve agreed, Tray, that the destruction of one or both of your testicles is acceptable?”

He smiled and said in a sweet southern voice, “Of course, mamm. I want all these good ladies to feel like they can have their way with my cahones. They can do whatever they want. I don’t mind if they go bust.” Cynthia touched her son’s shoulder with affection.

“Oh, Tray. You’re so brave.”

“It’s nothing, mamma. I’d do anything for you.”

All the women sighed at that. It was so sweet and respectful him.

Pat took charge. “Now young man, let’s see what we have to work with today. Strip!”

“Yes maam.” Tray smiled and stripped off his shirt.

Next came off his shoes (which Cynthia helped with. It was hard to untie laces without seeing what you’re doing). Then his pants. Underneath them he was wearing white Calvin Klein briefs and his package was ample, to say the least. He didn’t seem abashed though, at undressing before a bunch of strangers. He pulled his briefs down and out plopped his manhood. Heavy, Luscious. Relaxed. His white socks he kept on. As he put it, “The floor is cold, mamm, and I want my balls to make a good target.”

With the blindfold on, the seventeen year old was immune to anticipating attacks and as an added insurance, Pat tied his hands behind his back with a white Karate belt. As almost a natural instinct, the boy spread his legs, squared his shoulders and set his face to “neutral”, so that the women could get on to busting his balls.

“Now,” lectured Pat, “Today’s goal is to see how much abuse a man’s nuts can take until they crumble. It’s important to know exactly how much force it takes to the groin to bring a real male to his knees and how much abuse their eggs can take before cracking. First up, I want some solid hits to his balls. Line up!. That’s it. Now make sure you practice your straight punches. Kneel and drive your fist straight into his groin. See his balls? They’re just dangling there, just hanging there. No protection what-so-ever. It’s a great time to take out your aggressions on a man’s livelyhood.”

The women got into a queue and the first lady, a young brunette stepped forward. In one fluid motion she sank to one knee and punched the young man straight in the nuts, first with her right fist and then with her left in a one-two sequence. The pendulous organs flopped around and Tray “oofed” slightly.

“Excellent! Next up.”

All seven women took shots at his balls, the last in line being Tray’s mom. Despite what one would expect, her hits were the hardest. She really racked her son, and all the women took note. She seemed to be encouraging brutality.

“Next we’ll try Karate chops. Stand with your back to Tray and chop his nuts from behind. First use your right then your left hand as you never know which one you’ll have free to immobilize an attacker with. Keep chopping until you actually hit either one or the other dead on. Splitting the sack will cause very little damage and little reaction. We want to incapacitate the bastard!”

First up was a beautiful 30 year old blond, who stood with her back to Tray. She mentally target his fat left nut and then chopped her left hand into it. The boy shuddered, so she knew her aim was good. She slammed her hand into it again. Then she switched to her right hand and his right ball. She felt the dense bubble as she compressed it into his pelvis. Using a real man was so thrilling!

All the women had their turn on him. Then it was time for the squeezing! “Now remember to really grip his gonads firmly and twist and yank on them if you can. We want to bring that mugger to his knees.”

The woman all had their chance to grope his balls and mutilate them. At one point, Pat shouted to the red-head of the bunch, “You’ve got nails. Use them! Dig them in and see if you can’t puncture his balls. Remember, we’re going to destroy them anyways, so show no mercy.” The buxom red-head did as instructed and tried to pierce his bollocks, and although she didn’t break skin (her nails weren’t long enough), she did manage to leave deep welts. By this time Tray was moaning slightly. His nuts feel bruised and abused, but he kept those muscular thighs spread for them.

“OK. Good. Now, we’re going to do free form, and I want each of you to keep up the pace until you bring Tray here to his knees. Everyone watch, now. OK. Go!”

A fifteen year old curly-haired girl had the first go at him. “HAH!” she yelled as she punched his nuts, then she pulled and yanked his sack towards his knees, then she slapped them repeatedly. This brought the boy to his knees and he gave a little cry.

“Good. Up on your feet again, boy.” Pat hauled him up. “Next!”

The women went at him for an hour, each trying to bring him to his knees. Naturally Cynthia was particularly brutal on her son. There was never any doubt in the South that mother’s owned their sons. Completely. She, along with the other women, were getting hot and turned on by the activity, and they all watched each other, eager to have another go on him. Tray was at the groaning stage, where it got harder and harder to get back up. His nuts were swelling and he was sweating – a thin sexy sheen which coated and accentuated his musculature. He was panting heavily by the time Pat called for a break.

“OK. Have some water, stretch, eat. In our second hour, we’ll work on our knees and kicks.”

All the women were excited and huddled together in the back of the room, sipping glacier water and eating protein bars. Tray meanwhile was on the floor, curled into a ball, trying to control the unending ache in his balls and stomach. His hands were still cuffed together.

“Times up. Back to work. Now kicking isn’t’ something you’ll always have to do on random attackers, as you’ll probably be too close, but burying your foot into a man’s nuts can have endless application in real life. If you’re husband gets abusive. If your sons get out of control. Any man is potential target. Well start with knees. Get right close to Tray and jam your kneecap hard between his legs. Imagine your trying to squish his fat testes. I don’t want you to stop kneeing him until you get both balls, head on.”

Despite the pain, Tray was looking forward to this part. One reason he’d agreed to this situation was he’d always fantasized about getting kneed in the groin, and particularly by his mother, so when his mother was first, and he could smell her familiar perfume, he smiled and spread his legs even wider. WHAM, her knee connected with his balls. Right up into them. They oozed against her hard knee-cap. She savored the sharp intake of breath from her son. That had to hurt. WHAM WHAM WHAM. Cynthia was merciless with her son’s nuts.

Then the rest of the group had their knees between his legs. From the front, from the back. His fat swollen gonads were a wonderful dangling target for them all, and they did their best to incapacitate this would-be attacker. Each enjoyed being so close to a strapping young man, his hard body at their mercy. Thirty minutes of this had him on his knees whimpering like a young dog who’d just been snipped.

“Everyone’s doing fantastic! Simply excellent. OK. The home stretch. In this final phase we’ll practice our kicking. Now, in a normal man a single kick probably wouldn’t ruin him, and therefore is a perfectly legitimate maneuver to use. But we’re here to understand the extremes’ of male behavior, and nothing ruins a man’s day like mangling his manhood. So you’ll take turns in a rotating line to kick this boy’s balls until they give completely. The first person to pop a ball gets this box of Nell Davis’s pecan pralines, the one who completes his emasculation gets this bottle of Biolage’s Volumatherapie shampoo. Ready? Tray, how are you holding up?”

He sounded a bit limp, but was a trooper. “Just fine, mamm,” he mumbled. ”I can’t wait to feel what your ladies have in store for me.” The women clapped at his heroism.

“To make sure he’s supported, I’m going to tie his hands to the ceiling with this pully, and tie his legs to those two rings. We’ll have uninterrupted access to his groin. First though, we’ll have to deal with this.” Pat stroked his half-swollen member until it revived and became hard. It was a healthy eight inches and she taped it to his belly with some scotch tape. No point in having it get in the way. Up went his arms, out when his legs, and soon he dangled in front of them, like some modern day Christ – martyr to the hungry feet of women. His testicles were swollen to twice their normal size and had contracted to either side of his prick, like huge shiny, red lemons. The women lined up. It was go time.

The tall raven-haired girl took first crack at his eggs. She launched a volley of kicks to his nads, burying her shin into them They were so spongy and rubbery, ideal for kicking. Tray was already moaning loudly. After about six or seven brutal kicks, the next woman came up. She aimed her feet and delivered eight or nine toe punts to his nuts. She could feel the orbular nature of them, their springy flesh, and as she was young enough to be a virgin, these were the first testicles she’d ever had access to. It was amazing.

When it was his mother’s turn, she got close to him first and whispered into his ear softly. “I’m going to try and be the one who bursts your first ball. Tell me how much you want me to nut you, son.” She fingered one swollen agate and squeezed it.

“I want you to burst a nut mamma. I’ve always wanted it,” he said in a whimpering voice.

“You’ve always been such a good son.” Cynthia stepped back and let out a kai yell, slamming her foot full force into his left nut. The thing bulged and squished. Again she kicked it and then again. On the fifth kick Tray wailed. “I think it’s gonna go, mamma,” he blubbered.

Cynthia appreciated the encouragement. “Oh, you’re so good to me, son.” Wham. Wham . . . SQUISH. The testicle had ruptured and began to leak its contents.

“Mamma! My ball! My ball!” All the women clapped. Cynthia continued to kick the broken ball. Why leave it whole, after all? It was useless now, anyways. When she stopped she found herself flushed and out of breath. It was such an exciting moment for her, damaging one of her son’s nuts beyond repair.

“I have to go sit down for moment. You all carry on.” The woman went over to a chair too cool off.

“OK, next up. We have one ball to go. You first,” said Pat pointing to the only blond in the group. She took stock of herself and pinched a nipple. It was so exciting to ruin a guy. She aimed carefully and did her best to take out his remaining testicle. It was difficult. The mush from the other ball got in the way, so really she was getting it too. Over the sound of Tray’s blubbering was the heady sound of her foot solidly “thunking” into his last potato. His big fat swollen potato. And with a final kick the blond burst it with a loud “splat” sound, the organ detonated within its sack. All Tray could do was whisper “my balls, my balls” over and over until with a shudder he passed out.

“OK, good job girls. Next week we’ll practice our incapacitating moves again. That’s all. Drive safe.” Pat handed out the prizes and wrapped up the session while Cynthia attended to her broken son and his broken balls.

Target Practice – The Final Session The last three weeks of sessions for the class had been focused on combining technique and endurance, and the girls had no additional men offer up their manhoods for them to practice on. Instead they had been forced back to using dummies, although Pat had made sure that the mannequins possessed realistic eggs which would rupture after several direct hits, and need to be replaced. So it was that on the last day of class, which would be a test of each woman’s performance, that they entered the dance studio and were confronted with the surprise of not only Pat, but seven young men, one for each of them, to demonstrate their proficiency and skills on. All the men looked to be about 18 and were hunky and handsome. They were all padded up and each seemed eager to be a punching bag for their women. They did appear to be wearing cups, but that wasn’t surprising – after all, how could they expect boys hired by Pat for one day be willingly castrated? Pat, however, was smiling deeply. As always she led the women in the warm up session, doing stretches, some yoga and some Pilates, and then she paired off each woman with one young man. All the pairings spread out in the room. “Today is your final day. I want you all to show me what you’ve learned. And what you should have learned is focus, power, confidence and precision. For the next hour I will walk among you and assess your performance. Alight? Begin!” The room became filled with the sounds of kicks, hits, slaps and stomps. The women went all out, hitting, kicking, screaming kai yells, and punching their volunteer victims. The well padded boys absorbed the kinetic energy of the women, and this went on for some time. Pat walked around with a clipboard and took notes, scoring the technique she saw. Most of the women did very well, incorporating strength with perfect maneuvers designed to incapacitate a would-be male attacker. There was only one thing missing: the realistic reactions of a guy when his balls were getting pasted. Not to worry, Pat was going to take care of that. “OK girls, I think that’s enough to judge your accuracy and proficiency. Let’s take a break and then I’ll tell you the good news.” All the women made for the back of the room where their water bottles were and all the young men clustered around Pat for a while. Soon it was time to reconvene and Pat addressed the women. “So ladies, as difficult to believe as it is, all these young men are offering up their nuts for you to destroy today. They’re all teen sex offenders and in return for their castration, they get to go on parole. So today’s your lucky day, each one of you gets a pair of nuts to turn into jelly. How about that?” she asked her cadre of testicle busting women. The cadre of women instantly turned into a gaggle of little girls, squealing with delight at the thought of busting these hot, evil teens. All the males had been covering their groins with their mitted hands, now they removed them to reveal seven sets of naked cock and balls - ready, open and willing to be busted. The ever enthusiastic Cynthia immediately led her young man by the hand and took him to the corner of the room. She told him to close his eyes and spread his legs. Then she proceeded to knee him in the nuts as hard as she could. One, two, three, four, FIVE knees before he slid to the floor and couldn’t take any more. Little Kazumi took her African-American teen by the hand and politely led him to her spot on the floor, and then she asked him to bend over, which he did. Then she took his ball sack by the hand and began to squeeze the delicate glands together and grate them. Harder and harder she squeezed his package until his nut meat was bulging out in the spaces between her fingers. Soon the teen was whimpering in submission and she let him drop to the floor as well. Angela, the blond, dragged her equally blond victim to the center of the room and told him to grab her like a real attacker would, and then when he had her in his grasp, she slammed her fist between his legs, nailing his nuts and perineum and then used a claw hold to squeeze his family jewels together. She hit him again, followed by attacking his dick with her fingernails, impaling the flaccid organ and leaving deep welts. The boy groaned into the back of her head while he tried to maintain his hold on her, but she was determined. She grabbed just one of his nuts and squeezed it, digging her nails into it. The organ held its shape but the boy cried out and let go. Angela then pivoted and brought her knee up into his groin while pulling down on his shoulders to drive his nuts and her knee together. Like a nut sandwich. SLAM SLAM SLAM. She held him close as she pile drived his testicles without mercy or pity. It wasn’t long before his eyes rolled back and he passed out, falling to the floor in a big heap. Men, so weak and wimpy . . . Diane, the virginal redhead, was actively engaged with her handsome latino boy, his buttery tan skin and shaved head shining with sweat as she made him stand still while she kicked his dangling huevos from various angles. He kept trying to block the kicks to his delicate swinging knackers, but she kept circling him and getting him just when he thought she’d finished. WHAM WHAM WHAM. The browned eyed boy did his best to not squeeze his legs together but it wasn’t long before his hands wrapped around his ball sack and he sagged down to his knees, coughing and holding himself. Like the other boys in the room, the intensity of the women’s attacks was more than his brain could process. It hurt so bad. But Diane had now learned to be ruthless with men. She’d grown up. She grabbed a terry cloth towel from the pile near the door and tied her boy’s hands behind his back. Then with one hand she placed a finger under his chin and lifted his head until their eyes met. Then she kicked him as hard as she could between the legs. His stomach was filled with gut wrenching pain, and she loved looking into his eyes to see them reflect the pain as she kicked him repeatedly until he fell over and seemed to be in a state of shock. She then lifted one of his legs by the ankle and continued to kick his testicles, now lolling on his other leg. They were so soft and inviting, she just couldn’t help herself and he was helpless to stop her. The two remaining women were watching the other pairs to see what to do, and then they grabbed their own boys. Beatrice got the tallest teen, a tall muscled boy with black hair, and Crystal got the shortest most compact boy, who had the body of a gymnast. Beatrice wanted to toy with her boy-toy for a while. She tied his hands behind him like Diane did, then she began to slap his hanging, dangling balls, just to see him jerk and shudder with each hit, while Crystal took her boy to the remaining space in the studio’s space and did the most cruel thing she could think of. She had him stand there, while she knelt in front of him, and after smiling up at him, she leaned forward and sucked one of his balls into her mouth and began to squeeze it between her molars. The boy began to whine like a kicked puppy. Pat watched all of this with grim satisfaction. She knew her women would forever dominate the men in their lives, which was exactly the attitude she’d hoped she’d instilled in them. That women were on top instead of those egotistical paternal sexualistic hypocritical beasts called men. She knew they’d approach men forever more as the dominate sex rather than the submissive sex, and that any male who dared attack her students was in for a rude surprise. Clapping her hand, Pat called a halt to the ball busting festivities, and spoke to them all. Diane let the leg she was holding drop and Crystal let the teen’s swollen left testicle plop out of her mouth. “Now that you’ve become acquainted with your boy’s balls, it’s now time to practice your final maneuvers together. Come get some rope and we’ll string each of them up so we can have our way with them. It’s the natural instinct of a male to protect his eggs, and we’ve practiced our incapacitating maneuvers on them, now it’s time to have fun and just let loose.” The women enthusiastically grabbed rope and got their boys up and tied to the ceiling through eye hooks which Pat had installed in previous classes. “Now remember that women’s self defense class is really 100 different ways to rip the nuts off a guy. So let’s see if any of you can really rip their nuts off. Grasp your boy’s nutsack in your hand, and twist and squeeze it has hard as you can.” Seven sets of balls were twisted and squeezed and each boy howled in pain. Their groins jerked and were pulled forward by the women’s hands, forearms straining with the bags of flesh in their hands trying to mangle and mutilate them. However, none of them could actually rip the scrotums off the boys. But they sure caused the testicles in their hands to swell and the scrotal flesh to become an angry red hue. “Well, it was worth a try. Now let’s get some slaps in. Start by tapping their ballbag rhythmically, lightly, then increase the power of each stroke.” The women stepped in front of their respective boy and lightly tapped his sack, then gradually increased their swings until they were really swatting the boy’s ball sacks. SLAP SLAP SLAP. The boys were all squirming and making strangled cries of pain. Oh, it was so delicious. SLAP SLAP SLAP. They kept up the momentum of their swings until some of the boys were literally crying. But male tears had no power over these women who now truly knew a man’s place. On his knees, begging for the safety of his manhood. “Excellent. Now let’s get some punches in. Start with straight shots to their balls. I want to see sacks swinging. Then we’ll move on to uppercuts.” All the women dropped to one knee and did straight punches to their boy’s unprotected nads. SMACK. Right, left, right, left. Excited punches to their nuts and their sacks did indeed swing back and forth, slapping up against their asses and then back again. The women all felt like professional boxers, taking shots at the punching bag. Hard knuckles against boy bubble flesh. SMACK SMACK SMACK. Then, taking a cue from Pat, they stood up and started their uppercuts into their boy’s balls. Again it was right, left, right, left. Their weeks working on dummies had given them the stamina to punch, kick and hit for long stretches at a time and they were now skilled enough to really damage delicate boy eggs. Most of the boy’s balls had swollen almost to the bursting point, and their scrotums were puffy and red. “Perfect. Now let’s begin to soften up their eggs for their final cracking. Swift knees to their nuts should do the trick.” Soon the room was filled with the sound of women’s hard sexy knees flying into unprotected man sacks. Some of the boys were just drooling at this point, others were barely conscious, but what really mattered was the fun the women were having, not the agony of the males, so Pat just smiled to herself. Bursting balls was so fun! “Harder, ladies! I want to really hear those testicles of theirs begin to crack! Harder!” SMACK SMACK SMACK. Naked knees to naked nuts. Over and over. One boy began to gurgle in the back of his throat as he thrashed weakly around. His eyes were rolling in their sockets and his balls were rolling around in their sack, each trying to escape the freight train beating they were receiving. “Ok. Ok. Give the boy’s a short break and take ten.” Seven boys hung limply, hardly able to believe they were being given a short respite from their cruel mistreatment. The women were all sweating and warm, so they stretched, sucked down water and chewed on homemade granola. Most of them were in the preliminary stages of sexual excitement, and their panties and tights were becoming soaked, but none of them seemed the least bit shy or concerned about it. It was only natural to be turned on by nutting a guy, especially young bucks who were handsome and virile. “Alright, we’re in the home stretch. It’s now time to bust these balls wide open, and let their insides see the light of day. You each get to choose how you want to destroy their manhood’s, but you each have to do it in a different way. So, let’s begin. Kazumi, you go first.” The little Japanese woman, who had been practicing her squeezing techniques on plums and cherry’s and other small stone fruits, took her black boy’s stones, one in each hand, and began to squeeze them, pressing her thumbs into their hearts. Harder and harder she squeezed. She was holding her breath from effort. Deeper and deeper her thumbs went. She was really trying to squeeze the tubing out of his balls. “Here it comes,” she yelled finally, and with a grunt of exertion on her part, his fat black balls popped in her hands. Instead of being resilient organs for making sperm, they were now a squishy mass of mush, which she squeezed around in her hands. All of the women came when the testicles popped and Cynthia even fell to her knees from the force of her orgasm. It was just that sexually fulfilling to burst balls. “Whew, that was hot! You did that very well, Kazumi. OK, now, it’s Diane’s turn. Let’s see if we can’t get off for a second time.” Diane smiled. She was gonna punch her latino stud’s nuts into oblivion. She rolled up her sleeves, positioned herself in front of the boy and began blasting away at his crotch. WHAM WHAM WHAM WHAM WHAM. Brutal blasts to balls. She kept up the momentum just as they all had earlier, but now she was well and truly trying to ruin her handsome latino boy. His testicles expanded and expanded, filling up the scrotum completely, which was now a shiny, tight bag of tan flesh. And just when her pounding reached a crescendo the two bloated orbs exploded in the sack with a slick, sick SPLAT, loud enough to be heard all the way to where Pat was supervising. It was another magical orgasm for each woman, each reveling in the wonderful cruelty that it was to castrate these young sex offenders. Now it was Cynthia’s turn. Her brown haired boy of about 16 was already half out of it, but she roused him with her first kick. It was from behind, her foot arching up towards his asscrack and then slamming into his nutsack. He howled and cried out. She slammed her foot into his nuts over and over, faster and faster, harder and harder. She was going to kick his nuts into mush, without giving them any time to even swell. They were just going to be pummeled into mush. WHAM WHAM WHAM WHAM. She was laying into his nuts like there was no tomorrow. As she kicked she felt first his one nut give out, then the other, but she didn’t slow down her kicking even the slightest. She just yelled, “There goes one!” and “There goes the other! He’s an ‘it’ now!”. The women were watching and rubbing themselves shamelessly at the brutal ballbusting scene carried on. “I’m kicking mush girls. His balls are pulped!” When she finally did finish her assault on his ballbag, there really was just jelly-like goo filling his bloated scrotum which was almost the size of a grapefruit. She squished it around with her fingers, feeling very self-satisfied that she’d managed to ruin her boy faster and more efficiently than anyone else had, so far. “Ok. It’s now the two blond’s turn. Angela, show us what you can do!” Angela lowered her blond boys’ body until his butt was on the floor, then used extra rope to tie his legs off so he couldn’t move them. His testicles were now flush with the hard wooden floor. Clearly she was going to step on them until they popped. Angela slipped off her Reeboks so that she was just in her fuzzy white socks and she stepped up to his nuts and then onto them. As swollen as they were they had very little ability to slip out from under her, and she pressed her heels into the fat orbs. She whispered to him as she squashed his nuts. “What’s your name boy?” The blond boy who was drooling and virtually comatose gurgled, “Eegan” and then mumbled some incoherent words which no one else caught. Angela pressed her heels into the testicles more and more, making nutflesh squeeze out in all directions. The pressure on his balls was mounting and Angela’s fuzzy socked feet were rolling around on his nuts. At just the right moment first one ball popped, “POP” and then the other “POP”, and his scrotum went slack as the pressure dispersed. He was now a eunuch with no more incentive to abuse women than a puppy. Or at least one could hope. “OK Crystal! You’re up.” The Brooke Shields-like woman with wavey brown hair smiled and walked over to her gymnast boy. She was going to finish what she had started. She kneeled and gently cupped his two testicles, then brought them up to her mouth. She sucked both of the glands into her mouth and positioned the swollen organs between her teeth. And then, she began chewing his nuts into goo. CHOMP CHOMP CHOMP. He balls squished around in her mouth, and she could feel the organs puff up in her mouth, and then they just sort of exploded in her mouth, like ripe cherry’s bursting. Naturally she kept chewing, making sure there were no lumps left in her mouth. All the sound was absorbed by her mouth, but everyone could tell by the boy’s scream that she’d burst his balls with her molars. It was more orgasms for all around. They all had a feel of his mushy bag once Crystal had bitten through his cords and then spit out his scrotum. The moist bag was limp and deflated. Like two water balloons that had just burst. And now, finally, it was Beatrice’s turn. She had to find some way of destroying her tall dark haired boy’s nuts that was unique. And she had an idea. She ran out to her car and popped the trunk and got a bicycle pump with a sharp needle attachment at the other end. She ran back inside. She ran up to her boy and jammed the needle right into his left testicle and then began to pump away. Puff, puff, puff, the testicle expanded with the air being pumped into it. Puff, puff, puff. Now the thing was three times its normal size and looked like an apple ready to burst. Puff, puff, puff . . . . . POP. The huge nut burst audibly. Then there was the sound of leaking air as the nut deflated, sort of like a dying bicycle tire. On to the next and last ball of the day. STAB, puff, puff, puff, and three minutes later it too burst with an explosion of pressurized air. And that was that. All the boys had been dealt with, all the women had recovered from multiple orgasms, and Pat happily congratulated everyone and handed out certificates of completion. It was a good day all around, and everyone wished Pat on her next set of classes – that she’d find more boys and guys to sacrifice their balls!