Busterella

by groggycascade

Holly had heard the term ‘sexual awakening’ plenty. To her, it conjured images of women who suddenly realized they were lesbians in their forties, or married couples who took up swinging. She never would have imagined it to have anything to do with kicking men in the balls.

For weeks after the night she took Ryan’s manhood away, Holly had fantasized about it almost constantly. That hurting or even ruining a guy’s balls could be sexy was something she’d never even considered. After all, Ryan wasn’t even her first. But somehow her mostly-accidental emasculation of Bobby the red-belt all those years ago had never made her feel womanly and powerful the way she had when Ryan’s final ball burst under her foot. She guessed it was because Bobby hadn’t really deserved what happened to him: he was just a guy who got unlucky and wound up nutless. Ryan had used women for their bodies, but thanks to what Holly had done to him he would never get to touch one again.

She became obsessed with seeing similarly-deserving men get their nuts pounded by women. She trawled the internet’s blogs and forums, getting herself off to video clips of savage bustings and fantasizing about taking them one step further. She read the stories of Caligula, Painseeker, Jonoffen, Senwick, Preun. She wouldn’t have believed it a few weeks before, but she had found something as good as sex.

But like all ballbusting fetishists, Holly was learning that even the massive resource of the web was not commensurate to her needs. She started to regret that the best ballbusting stories almost always ended with the unfortunate boy’s balls turning to paste under a girl’s foot. Holly wanted to know what it was like for these former males as they faced life without their testicles. Did they feel useless, humiliated? Holly hoped so. Since she had no idea what had become of Bobby after school, she really only had one choice.

One day she bought a burner phone. That evening she lay naked on her bed.

Breathing shallowly with anticipation, she dialled Ryan’s number.

"Mr. Parker? This is Jessica Lacey. I’m a urologist from the hospital where you had your recent, ah… operation."

Silence on the line.

"I just have some questions for you, Mr. Parker, as part of our follow-up. I see from your notes you were brought in with a testicular injury? Is that right?"

"Yes." Holly bit her finger. His voice actually sounded higher-pitched than it used to.

"And the extent of this injury was severe enough to require the immediate removal of both of your testicles."

She heard him sigh.

"In fact…" Holly’s free hand travelled from her mouth down to her vagina. "In fact, your testicles had been reduced to a fine mush, is that right?"

"How long is this going to take, Dr..?"

"Just a few more questions, 'Mr.’ Parker. Now, it says here you sustained these injuries as a result of an attack by a young woman?"

"What? No, I… had an accident…"

"Oh, I’m sorry Mr. Parker. The nurse on duty must have just made an assumption. Frankly, the vast majority of serious testicular injuries we treat are caused by young women. Betrayed girlfriends, bullied sisters, would-be rape victims… Needless to say, few of our patients ever have the same 'accident’ twice!" Holly’s fingers moved slowly in and out of her slit. "I shouldn’t joke, of course. Your injuries are nothing to laugh about. Now, can I assume that since your operation you have completely lost your ability to get an erection?"

"Yes." The pain in his voice made her shudder with pleasure.

"Did your attending physician explain to you the implications of the removal of your testes?"

"She did… To be honest, I wouldn’t mind making a complaint about that Dr. Miller."

"Oh? What aspects of Dr. Miller’s care were you unsatisfied with?" Holly could feel herself getting close.

"Well, for one thing, I’m not even sure she was a proper doctor. She looked about eighteen. Then, the first thing she said when I woke up was 'I’m sorry to tell you this, Mr. Parker, but your sex life is over.'"

"Oh… oh, God…"

"Then she lifted up my gown to check my stitches and forgot to lower it when she got called out of the room. The anaesthesia still hadn’t worn off, so I couldn’t even move. It turned out that the neighbour who called the ambulance for me had also called my mother and my sisters, so when they came to visit me the first thing they saw was…"

"You with your balls missing?" Holly breathed.

"That’s right. They assumed I must have been unconscious since I hadn’t covered myself up. I heard my sister say 'We shouldn’t be embarrassed. He isn’t a man anymore, it’s just like seeing a naked Ken doll.'"

Holly’s whole nude body melted into the bedsheets, her fingers working frantically.

 * * *

Now she knew that fantasy wouldn’t be enough for much longer. But how was she supposed to find another pair of balls to kick, that deserved the kicking?

One day she was having lunch with Olive. Poor Olive. Holly hadn’t used Tindr for a month or so now, but Olive continued to let guys get between her legs after only a couple of dates, then wondered why they shut off contact afterwards. Today she was complaining about the latest, a certain Darnell.

"I’d pay good money for the next girl he sleeps with to do to him what you did to Ryan," she said, spearing a cherry tomato with her fork.

"Really?" said Holly, curiously. "How much?"

Olive considered.

"Well, I’d definitely need to go to hospital from laughing so hard," she said. "Maybe £150 to turn his salami into a limp noodle?"

The girls laughed and clinked glasses.

"Someone should set up a business," Holly said. "Ballbusting-on-demand."

That night, Holly set up a business.

Ballbusting on Demand! she wrote at the top of her blog. For a small fee, I, Busterella, will kick any man you desire right where it hurts! You specify the place and level of damage: all requests considered, from sack-tap all the way to double rupture!

She disguised the whole thing as a satirical feminist blog (Castrate man-spreaders! Period pains? Share the love: kick a guy in the balls!), but included an email address for contact purposes. Something told her she wouldn’t have to wait long.

 * * *

Holly watched the couple leave Studio 17, a haberdashery in one of the trendier parts of town. All around, attractive couples moseyed in the afternoon sun. Holly watched the men with attractive women on their arms and felt a little shudder go through her at the thought of how easily she could take it all away from them.

She made herself focus on Emma and Marcus. She had only spoken to Emma on the phone: she’d been told to look for a tallish blonde in a miniskirt. That description, Holly saw, was lacking. Emma was a stunner: long, bare legs, cascading hair, spectacular bosom. Any sympathy Holly might have had for Marcus for what was about to happen to him disappeared. If a woman who looked like that wasn’t enough for him, then he didn’t deserve any at all.

She watched him put one arm possessively around Emma’s waist. Something about Marcus made Holly sure that here was a guy with weak balls. She reckoned that she could shatter them with one kick and be out of there before anyone could react, or even get a proper look at her.

What happened next was described to the police in the following way by Emma, Marcus’ now ex-girlfriend:

Well, we were coming out of Studio 17 when this girl – I can’t remember what she looked like, officer, just that she was wearing yoga leggings, and you could see how strong her legs were, poor Marcus’ balls never had a – anyway, this girl, she just ran towards Marcus and full-on punted his balls. There was this horrible popping sound, and Marcus just fell down screaming and holding what used to be his testicles… What? Oh, yes, I knew right away that they were gone, you should have seen how hard she… And anyway, it all happened so fast I didn’t see where the girl went, I just knelt down by Marcus and I put my hand into his underwear just to make sure, and just as I’d ho- err, feared, just as I’d feared, there was nothing left, just a kind of pulp between his legs, and I was saying something like, "Oh my God, Marcus, she broke your balls! You have no more balls, Marcus!"

What? Laughing? No, officer, I… I must just be in shock from the whole thing.

Holly was sorry to miss the aftermath of her devastating kick, but to be honest, even if she’d had the leisure to stick around and enjoy Emma’s humiliation of her cheating nutless ex she wouldn’t have wanted to. All she could think about was the feeling of Marcus’ testicles bursting between his pelvis and her instep. She’d barely made it back to her car before her hand was inside her panties.

 * * *

The truth was that Emma had been far from the first woman to contact Holly. Everywhere women were getting fucked over by guys, and those who found their way to Busterella’s website were the kind who were willing to put the fear of God into some male chauvinist with an orchestrated kick in the nutsack.

They weren’t all as sadistic as Emma. They didn’t always want to be present when she busted their boyfriends’/bosses’/brothers’/stalkers’ balls. Most of the time it was just a simple kick in the nuts, something for her clients to laugh themselves to sleep over (although Holly had seen one or two girls cream when she kicked their target males in the nuts: there was something immensely hot about having that much power over a man). Marcus had been her first castration since Ryan Parker. In fact, a large portion of Holly’s revenue through her website came from women who paid the deposit on a Double Rupture w/Taunts in a swivet of vengeful misandry, only to cancel or downgrade the order once the fog of war lifted.

We women are fierce, emotional creatures, Holly wrote in her page’s preamble. Please don’t ask me to neuter your husband just because he decided he didn’t want kids anyway. Not until you’re sure it’s what you really want, at least ;)

After the initial contact, Holly always insisted on a phone call. It became obvious that several of the ‘women’ who sent her names of men they wanted busted were, in fact, the very men those names belonged to: guys into femdom who got a thrill out of the thought of a girl smashing their nuts. These, Holly ignored. She was still testing the shape and limits of her own ballbusting fetish, but she knew she’d never get off on kicking a guy’s balls in if that was actually what the guy wanted. Still, the really surprising thing for Holly was when several girls from her self-defence class contacted Busterella, never suspecting that the woman they were paying to carry out ballbusting attacks was their very own self-defence instructor. Apparently by teaching her students her deadliest ballbusting moves and completely enjoining them against ever using them, Holly’d been encouraging them to suppress some fairly dark desires. One of her girls wanted her brother kicked hard enough that he’d lose a testicle (apparently so long as he still had one he’d have something to fear). Another wanted Holly to hunt down the girl’s ex-boyfriend and "make it so he can never get it up for that bitch Kimberley Davis again."

Like most of the women who contacted Busterella, the two girls eventually asked her not to go through with it. After this had happened over a dozen times, Holly realized she had a problem. She was making decent money as Busterella, but hardly carrying out any ballbustings at all. She started feeling as though she were letting her sisters down, exploiting for money the natural female urge to take revenge on a pair of testicles. But what could be done?

The answer came during one of Holly’s biweekly self-defence lessons.

Holly’s classes were technically open to boys and girls, men and women. In the last few months – ever since Ryan, in fact – her lessons had focussed more on the male genital area as an area of attack, to the point where her students were learning exclusively the most effective ways to render an assailant harmless by striking his groin. This, combined with a number of unfortunate incidents involving cracked cups, had ensured a sharp drop-off in male enrolment. That evening there were maybe fifteen girls and only two boys. One of them, Ricky, was seated on the floor surrounded by the female students, looking sullen. The lack of boys in the class had meant he’d had to stand in as dummy attacker for half the group: for the past hour, girls’ feet and knees had been rebounding off his cup, to the accompaniment of comments like "Ooh, that must have hurt!" and "You won’t be raping any more girls any time soon!" and "Say goodbye to your nuts!"

The class’s only other boy, Gerald, stood on the mats. For the evening’s final demonstration, Holly had paired him up with his younger sister Amy. Amy was already showing promise, Holly thought: In addition to Holly’s classes, Amy took lessons in kickboxing and Brazilian Jiu Jitsu. Holly suspected the siblings’ mother forced Gerald to come to Holly’s classes so he could learn to protect his balls against his sister’s powerful kicks.

As Amy and Gerald circled each other, Holly noticed an older woman standing at the back of the class. She wasn’t one of her students, but Holly recognized her at once, even after all these years.

Gerald made a clumsy grab for his sister’s shoulders: Amy broke the hold easily and kneed her brother in the groin. A solid whump echoed around the studio as Amy’s knee made contact with Gerald’s cup. As he tried to back away, Amy dropped low and caught his heels with a spinning sweep kick. Gerald’s own backward momentum brought him down hard onto the mat with his legs wide open. Wheeling to her feet, Amy raised her foot over her brother’s groin.

"That’ll do," Holly called from where she was watching the sparring siblings. "Girls, did you see how Amy used her opponent’s own movement against him? From there, she was in a position to end the fight with a well-placed stomp to the testicles." Amy feinted a kick at Gerald’s groin and smirked as he hurried to protect himself with his hands.

"The reason we aim for the testicles," Holly said, "is that they are by far the most sensitive, fragile point on a man’s body. They allow us women to subdue any male attacker almost at once, enabling us to escape, or dish out more punishment, as we see fit."

"She got lucky," Gerald muttered, climbing to his feet. "In a real fight, things would be different."

"I’m afraid that’s not true," said the woman who had been standing at the back. "In a real fight, you wouldn’t have been wearing a cup, and your testicles would have been completely at your little sister’s mercy."

A ripple of laughter swept through the class. Gerald and Ricky looked even more miserable. Amy did a little bow for the other girls.

"Class," said Holly. "This is Kelsey. This is the woman who taught me karate when I was younger than most of you. Boys, if you think I’m tough on your balls, you should see what used to go on in Kelsey’s classes."

"That was a long time ago," Kelsey said, moving around the seated students to the front of the class. The girls’ eyes followed her admiringly. Scowling, Gerald went and sat down next to Ricky, while Amy took her place next to some of the younger girls. Soon they were snickering and glancing over at Gerald.

"We’re almost done here," Holly told Kelsey. "Why don’t you have a quick word with my students? I’m sure they could benefit from your experience."

"Actually," Kelsey answered, "it’s your advice I’m here for, Holly."

"Girls," said Holly. "Shall we see if we can help Kelsey with her problem? Tell us your troubles, Kelsey." The two women sat opposite each other in front of the class.

"Well, Holly," said Kelsey. "As you may remember, I have a son and a daughter…"

"Little Hayley and Josh."

"…and, like your two students here," indicating Gerald and Amy, "I’m afraid neither of them really understand how delicate a boy’s testicles can be."

At this point, Amy interrupted. "I understand!" she said. "Mum says that if I kick Jerry too hard in the privates, he won’t be able to have kids."

"That’s true, sweetie," said Kelsey. "But has Holly taught you exactly what happens when you hit a boy there, so hard that you damage his testicles?"

There was a shiver of excitement among the female portion of the class.

"Holly and I have both seen it happen," Kelsey continued, looking meaningfully at her former student. "If you were to kick your brother as hard as you could, right in his testicles," she said, turning back to Amy, "then there’s a chance one of them could get caught between your foot and his public bone and rupture. This means that his testicle bursts open and has to be removed surgically. If your brother’s balls are particularly small, then there’s a danger that both of them could be ruptured with a single kick."

"They are small!" shouted Amy, gleefully. "I’ve seen him naked and pulling on his little willy when he thinks nobody’s around!"

The girls all dissolved in gales of laughter. Gerald’s face had turned beetroot, and he was looking fixedly at the floor.

Kelsey smiled. "Then you have to be careful, sweetie," she said. "Both of you," she added, looking at Gerald.

"You were telling us about your children, Kelsey," Holly said. "They must be a few years older than Gerald and Amy. Surely they know all about this stuff?"

"Not as much as I’d like them to," Kelsey replied. "It seems to me that, outside of classes like this, they just don’t teach boys and girls about the dangers of a well-placed kick to the testicles. There ought to be someone whose job it is to educate people about boys’ weakness down there."

"Busterella will educate them," shouted Katie, a teenage girl from near the back. Holly started. Katie was the girl who had asked her, as Busterella, to emasculate her ex-boyfriend.

"Busterella..?" said Kelsey in confusion.

"She kicks bad guys in the balls!" said another girl, Ruth.

"That’s not really what I mean," Kelsey said, looking flustered.

"There’s been a spate of random ball-kickings lately," Holly explained. "Busterella is just a name that’s going around on social media. As if one woman could be responsible for so many guys getting their eggs cracked!"

"Busterella is real!" said Amy, standing up. "Whenever a guy disrespects a girl, Busterella finds him and kicks his little nuts in. BAM – no kids for you," she said, throwing a kick at an imaginary target. "BAM – bet you wish you were a girl. BAM – aww, did your balls get ruptured?" Holly noticed she was looking directly at her brother as she carried out these imaginary castrations. The other girls laughed and cheered her on. Gerald and Ricky got up and trudged slowly towards the door.

"I wasn’t exactly thinking of some kind of ballbusting superhero," Kelsey said. "More like someone to teach boys and girls to respect the male fragility. I thought that maybe Holly and I, with our combined experience… some kind of public initiative, maybe…"

But the girls were chattering too excitedly about Busterella to pay any attention. Holly was fascinated by how quickly stories about her had swelled out of all proportion. The girls genuinely seemed to believe that some ballbusting vigilante was on the loose, dishing out justice with her ball-crushing kicks. It was crazy… but then, if the town’s boys and men could be persuaded of the same thing, then maybe the myth of Busterella could end up doing more than the real-life Holly Jones to teach respect for women.

"That’s a great idea, babe," she said to Kelsey, patting her shoulder. "I’ll call you about it sometime."

Holly watched her girls set off down the hill away from the gym. It was a summer evening, still light, and most of them were walking home, Amy among them.

"Catch you next week, Holly," she said, skipping past.

It had been good to see Kelsey again after all these years, Holly thought to herself. She hardly expected her old friend to understand her new passion for ballbusting, though. It sounded as though Kelsey was more interested in preserving men’s balls than hurting them. To each her own, Holly thought.

Suddenly she saw a strange movement in the bushes that lined the hill. Gerald, she thought. He probably had Ricky with him, too. No doubt they were lying in wait for Amy, hoping to exact a little retribution for their humiliation in the dojo.

Holly started off after Amy, then halted. A smile came over her face. Dashing back inside the gym, she headed for the supply cupboard. Quickly, she found what she was looking for: a dancer’s leotard, a blond wig somebody had mysteriously left behind long ago, a pair of knee-length boots from the pole-dancing class. Finally, she grabbed a pair of sports goggles off of a shelf. While she was pulling on the whole ensemble, the door opened. Some kid, one of the gym’s employees, stood there, looking fairly taken aback at encountering a naked gorgeous woman in the supply cupboard. There was a moment of silence.

"Either make this worth my while," Holly said, "or get out."

The kid almost fell over himself closing the door. Holly laughed. She felt bold, invincible.

She caught up with Amy, Gerald and Ricky about a quarter mile from the gym. As she’d expected, the two teenage boys were harassing Amy, pushing her backwards and forwards. Holly stood a way off and watched the scene unfold.

"You must have felt pretty tough back there," she heard Gerald say. He pushed his sister into Ricky, who grabbed her from behind.

"Fuck you!" Amy shouted, delivering a snap kick right into her brother’s groin. Even from where she was standing, Holly heard the sound of foot on plastic. The two boys had wisely not removed their cups.

"Guess you shouldn’t have tried to embarrass me in front of everyone," Gerald said, pinching his sister’s cheeks in one hand. "Next time, me and Ricky won’t be so forgiving."

Amy’s foot flew into Gerald’s crotch again.

"You just don’t learn, do you," Gerald laughed.

Holly saw that the time had come for Busterella to intervene.

"What the…" Gerald said, as he saw her approaching over the shoulder of Ricky, who still had a hold of Amy. Releasing his hold on Gerald’s sister, Ricky turned around. Holly rabbit punched him between the eyes, and he staggered away holding his nose. Gerald pushed Amy aside and advanced on Holly. She caught him with a sidekick to the abdomen, and he doubled over in pain. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Ricky charging towards her. She turned side-on to him, put him in a headlock and flipped him across her back in a judo hip toss. He landed, winded, with a thud. Amy was watching with astonishment as the blond, leotard-clad avenger beat the tar out of her brother and his friend.

Gerald grabbed Holly from behind in a bearhug: she whiplashed her head backwards and butted him in the jaw. As he reeled away, she caught him in a full-nelson, immobilizing his arms. Placing her feet inside his, she forced his legs apart.

"Would you like to show this boy what happens when you fuck with girls?" she asked Amy.

Amy walked uncertainly towards where Holly had her brother pinned.

"Are you… Busterella?" she asked.

"You know it," Holly answered.

Amy giggled. "What should I do to him?" she asked excitedly.

"Well," said Holly. "You won’t be able to do what I think you want to do while he’s still got his cup on." Over her shoulder, she checked on Ricky. He was still lying on the ground, trying to get his breath.

Amy laughed again. "You’re right!" she said. With that, she yanked her brother’s gym shorts down. "Aww, did we lose something?" she taunted him, brandishing the plastic cup in his face. "You really don’t have much to be proud of down there, do you bro?" she said, eyeing Gerald’s diminutive cock and balls with a raised eyebrow.

"Amy," Gerald said. "This is stupid. You know we were just messing around…"

Amy placed a finger over his lips. "What should I do to your little balls, Jerry? Should I kick your balls like I always do?" she whispered. "But do you think that lady was right about how I could rupture them both with just one solid kick? Should we find out, Jerry?"

"Shall we, Jerry?" Holly said sweetly in his ear. "Would you like your little sister to crush your testicles? Ooh, how humiliating! Imagine how bad that would hurt. I think you should beg her not to do it, don’t you?"

"Yeah, Jerry: beg me!" Amy said.

"You won’t do it," Jerry said with shaky bravado.

"Are you sure you want to bet your puny balls on it?" Amy said, drawing her leg back as if preparing to kick.

After a moment, Jerry said, "Please, Amy, don’t crush my balls."

For a second Holly thought Amy was really about to do it. The temptation must have been strong, with her bullying older brother’s manhood completely at her mercy.

"Okay, Jerry. But I want you to know something," Amy said. She grabbed one of his testicles in each hand. Gerald yelped in pain. "I don’t really give a fuck about your begging," Amy said, looking into her brother’s eyes as she applied pressure to his balls. "The only reason I’m letting you keep these is because Mum’s always warning me about making you sterile, and I think she’d kill me if I actually did it. But if you ever cross me again, I might just crush them anyway."

"Run away home, little Jerry," said Holly, releasing her hold on him. Gerald staggered away and tried to rouse Ricky while desperately hitching up his shorts.

"Wait," Holly called out. "One more thing."

They watched the two boys stumble away, their hands covering their naked genitals. Amy twirled her brother’s shorts around on one finger and tossed them into a nearby tree.

"That was great," she said. "I don’t know if anyone will believe I actually met you. It’s not like Jerry or Ricky will ever admit –"

She turned around. Busterella had vanished.