At Tracey's Feet
Tracey has crazy eyes. These were however hard to ignore as she easily made the blood rush from my brain to that ever-so vulnerable space between my legs. She had size D breasts, which were accented by her athletic size 8 physique. She had dark brown eyes and wavy brunette hair, which she wore straightened. She’d recently put blonde highlights through her hair. She was always wearing a full and luscious pout, enriched by a shiny pink lip gloss. Her makeup was always immaculate and she knew the effect she had on a room.
Despite her heavy chest, she had killer legs. Smooth, soft, toned, skinny and tanned. And at the end of her devastating legs rested the most beautiful pair of soft feet with the cutest delicate little toes to match. She forever kept them painted red - her favourite colour. On top of her knockout figure she had a pretty foul mouth too and a devious mind, which I loved. All of this played perfectly into my foot and ballbusting fetish.
Every chance I’d get to be home alone, I would jerk off while sniffing her socks and panties until I was sore. Curling them up to act as ball-gags, imagining Tracey was about to defile me any way she desired with no sound able to escape my willing lips.
She was the perfect wet dream for me.
Tracey was my housemate but unfortunately she was also my girlfriend Nikki’s best friend. Nikki introduced us when I needed a place to rent and we hit it off immediately. I happened upon her hallway closet and took one look at her shoe collection and smelt the feint, musty aroma of her foot sweat along with the damp moulding of the pads of her foot in their innersoles and I moved in the next day.
While Nikki was admittedly equally as sexy, she was also very conservative, and I knew if I ever opened up about my fetishes she would not be receptive, and that would be that. Nikki was also very conscientious with her washing, so dirty laundry never lingered long enough for me to enjoy it.
Tracey on the other hand was a dangerous presence. She was wildly and inappropriately promiscuous. She’d often talk about getting a breast reduction because her breasts always spilt out of her shirts. She would often model these shirts for me in a matter-of-fact way while I desperately tried to hide my erection.
“Stop teasing me,” I’d say trying to make a joke of my predicament.
“Why don’t you just go jerk one out,” she’d retort in her always hoarse, sultry tone. She knew the effect she had on me and men more generally. She once threw me a cushion, "Hide your little boner if it makes you so uncomfortable, I need your opinion on a few more outfits."
We were in our early twenties now, and she was the rebellious type, she’d been smoking since her teens. I was always skeptical as to how she afforded cigarettes. She never had a job, but was never in a state of want for anything. I imagined she had several men wrapped around her little finger. She later drunkenly confided in me exactly how. Since that moment, I would regularly fantasise about buying her those cigarettes. And like those men, subjugate myself for the chance of having her cute teen feet wrapped around my dick in the back of a car. Then I'd picture blowing a load into her pretty mouth. She'd often told me how much she liked to swallow, as far as friends went we were very close. Her smoking habit had nonetheless left her with a very sexy, husky voice, sounding much like Jessica Rabbit.
After our many risque conversations, I’d always make some polite excuse to go rub one out while thinking about her. Or change my pants, as was appropriate.
I’m not sure where Tracey’s fascination with inflicting ball pain came from but minor infractions in our social circle would result in threats of "stomping nuts into mush" or "involuntary vasectomies." "No more babies" was a favourite phrase of hers. I loved the glint in her eye and the way she would use her hands and legs to act it out when making such threats. These instances would usually give me a wet patch in my pants and I’d always hoped she’d follow through.
The closest I’d ever seen her get was one night at a party she sack tapped an obnoxious guy who stole her drink, except she didn’t remove her hand from his crotch right away. It became obvious to the rest of us then that she had grabbed a handful and was squeezing quite hard. She came in close maintaining eye contact with her victim as he bent forward from the unexpected pain, gagging. Her hand digging in her manicured, red nails as they pumped viciously with each syllable as she said, “Don’t. Ever. Do. That. A-gain.”
Then she relinquished her victim to his world of misery and blinding pain, crumpled up on the floor. She acted as if nothing had happened, even turning to his girlfriend who was standing there shocked and saying, “You’re welcome,” as she sipped her reclaimed drink. I was breathing heavily, for a moment I thought I caught her eye and she had winked. Maybe I was imagining it.
One Saturday morning we were sitting in the living room watching some television. Nothing in particular was on and Tracey had just come back from a run. I was stealing glances constantly at her figure in her bare midriff and tight yoga running pants. They clung to her legs and gave me a mighty image to jerk off to later. The sweat was beading along her taut, bronzed abdomen.
I watched her undo her runners as sweat ran down her neck to her luscious cleavage. I fantasised about lapping it up with my tongue.
“Wow, these smell awful,” she said as she took a whiff from her sneaker. “Seriously you should smell this.”
“No thank you,” I said, although secretly making a mental note to spend some private time with my face buried in her shoe and my hand around my dick later. Tracey was in a playful mood it seemed. She leant over and playfully rammed the open shoe into my face and held it there with a gleeful smile across her face.
It was an acrid stench and the heat of her recently vacated foot made it even more pungent. I drank it in and then I regrettably forced her off me in an attempt to save face. I was still very ashamed of my addiction to her.
“I can’t believe you did that,” I said, shifting my legs to hide my growing erection.
“Shut up, you loved it,” she teased as she went back to taking off the rest of her gear. As she slid her other shoe off, I could see out of the corner of my eye a wicked smile cross her full pink pouty lips.
“Think quick,” she sniped as she pegged the sweaty shoe directly between my open legs. The erection she'd just induced had left my nuts in a precarious position, the sole struck me directly on the left nut like a ton of bricks.
I collapsed into the fetal position instantly on the couch. I audibly gasped. “Why would you do that?” I said in a much higher pitch than usual. My hands were wrapped around my balls as the pain crippled my midsection.
"You deserved it, I could see your stiffy from over here."
"It hurts so bad," I whimpered, trying to elicit some sympathy from my abuser.
“Grow up, they’re just your balls. You’re acting like you’ve never been nutted before.”
“I haven’t.” I said honestly, rocking back and forth trying to overcome the growing ache in my stomach.
“Really? I thought every guy would have been kicked in the balls by now.” She paused. “Want to find out what it feels like?”
“I just did.” I regretted saying this immediately. I had missed a golden opportunity.
She paused in thought. “No, silly,” she cooed. “What it feels like with my feet or my hands?”
I thought of how to word this to make it seem non-sexual.
“Sure, I guess. It might make it easier to take if it happens later.”
“Ha!” She laughed dismissively at my suggestion. "Now I know you're a virgin! It never gets easier." She scooted across the divide, her breasts bobbing as she did, until she was pressed up against my right side and I could feel the warmth of her breath against me. She stared deeply into my eyes, placing her left arm around my shoulders.
Then without warning she thrust her manicured open right hand like a freight train into my groin. I shuddered and jerked violently. “Look at me!” She ordered. I couldn’t resist her gaze. She stared deeply into my eyes, as she slowly closed her grip tighter and tighter.
My eyes began rolling backwards in my head, "Fight it!" she seethed.
I stayed with her, engulfed in the abyss of pain her delicate hand was waging. Drool pooled in my mouth.
Every part of me was convulsing. She looked at me scathingly, pouting. After what felt like an eternity, but was probably only about 2-3 minutes, she removed her hand and checked her nails for damage. I collapsed limply.
“Well, I hope that was as good for you as it was for me?” She stopped abruptly. “Daniel,” she said sternly. “It looks like it was.”
“What are you talking about?” I gasped desperately trying to catch my breath.
“I’m talking about this,” she said, sounding like a disappointed schoolteacher in a porn film. To my complete surprise, the assault on my manhood had left me with a raging erection. She pinched my bulging erection by the tip through my pants. The affection caught me off guard and I sighed with pleasure.
“Does Daniel like to have his balls busted? There’s no need to be embarrassed. I once dated a guy who couldn’t cum unless I punched him in the balls. Does the thought of a hot girl busting your nuts get you off?” she asked, now working her hand up and down my dick slowly.
“Yes,” I finally professed, panting along to her expert manipulation of my cock. This was a difficult and monumental moment for me. It was the first time I had ever admitted to anyone that I had a ballbusting fetish.
“I know what it is,” she continued, still manipulating me expertly. “You get off on letting a delicate little girl crunch your family jewels?”
“Yes,” I moaned. She picked up the pace as precum slowly leaked from me.
"You're trusting me with your most prized possessions in the whole world and all I want to do is squish them into mush... And that turns you on, you sick fuck."
I moaned louder and arched my back into her hand.
"All I'd have to do is want it badly enough and no more babies for Danny. I could give you a vasectomy and not think twice about it."
I couldn't look away from her eyes as she humiliated me.
"I could ruin your entire life in seconds, take you out of the gene pool, and then go fuck a real man."
I moaned involuntarily.
“Danny boy likes to have his balls busted by a widdle girl.” It was almost a song. Her hand deftly caressed my shaft even faster now. I was warm butter at her touch. She had complete control. She moved in closer to me, pulling me in and thrusting her chest into my face. I could smell her sweat and the remnants of her perfume; it was intoxicating.
She whispered into my ear, “You dirty little fucker. I bet you dream about me castrating you too, making sure you could never have babies. I'll bet you spray all over your sheets at night thinking about it. My ex did too. He dreamt about me crushing them in a vice. I messed him up so bad we didn’t have to use condoms anymore. How do I mess you up in your dreams, huh?”
“With your feet,” I moaned.
"You like my feet, huh?"
"I love your feet," I sighed.
"Tell me you love them more than Nikki."
"I love your feet more than Nikki."
"Tell me you'd rather have my feet than Nikki's pussy."
"I'd rather lick the sweat from between your toes than fuck Nikki's pussy."
She stopped dead. Her hand stopped working my dick. I groaned wearily, begging for more.
“That must be so embarrassing for you. You're such a beta. And wow, that was easy. I can’t believe it took you so long to admit it. And all it took was a bit of nut crunching and some heavy petting. You would not hold up under interrogation, unless of course it was a woman and they went for your balls. But then you’d only last until you blew your load, right?” She laughed at the suggestion. I sighed, defeated.
There was a pause, and I thought the ballbusting fun had ended prematurely.
“Look, I’m still your friend, and I can tell that you really need to cum. I can do black and blue balls no sweat but just blue balls isn't my style. And I guess it’s not something we need to tell Nikki about if we don’t actually fuck, right? She's so vanilla, she wouldn't even think this was sexual.”
Her hand went back to my throbbing cock. I nodded, still mesmerized by her touch. She started circling the head of my dick with her nails as I gushed precum into my pants. The anticipation was excruciating. I had dreamed about this moment for my entire adolescence onward. Every ballbusting video, every story I'd read had led me to my first real experience.
A wet patch formed on my crotch.
“Well, seeing how hard a little ballbusting made you, how about I keep going until you cum?"
I could only nod. She began twirling her hair with her free hand.
“But of course it’ll have to be much more erotic for you if I’m going to make you blow your load, so let’s see. My pussy is off limits of course, and so is my mouth and asshole, and hand jobs would definitely be a violation of my friendship with Nikki.”
My balls still ached from her earlier assault but my cock begged her to cum.
She paused, toying with me.
"Your feet," I stammered.
“Of course," she smirked knowingly. "A girl knows when a guy spends too long staring at her feet and not her tits. You don’t think I can tell when someone’s been licking the inside of my shoes? You think I don’t know why my sports socks are all hard and crusty now? You think I made you smell my shoes for no reason? I’ve only been living with you, Daniel, I know what makes you tick and I sure as hell know what makes you cum.
"I just want to make you happy.” She said it so sweetly that I couldn’t believe this was the same person that was crushing my nuts to an inch of their life only moments ago.
“Plus girls talk, and you must be gagging for a foot job because I sure know Nikki isn’t giving you any. Shame too, with the amount of pedicures that girls has her soles would be so smooth.”
She let go of my rock hard dick and stood, slipped off her socks. She turned and slowly sauntered in front of me as I sat on the couch still partially recovering from her earlier vice-like grip. I suddenly felt very vulnerable as she hovered menacingly over me.
"But you know, a foot job is very different to a ballbusting foot job."
"How?" I pined, almost certain of the answer.
"Well," she mused. "Rather than rub your dick with my feet, I'd say it's more of a prolonged stomp."
She let that thought sink in.
“Now beg me.” She ordered.
“Please give it to me… Please stomp on my balls.”
“That’s a good boy.”
She raised her bare foot, with red pedicured toes dangerously over my crotch. Her foot was so perfect, her cute little toes and perfect arches. I wanted to clean them with my tongue so badly.
“Look into my eyes, Daniel.” Was all she said, and as I met her intense gaze and our eyes locked deeply, that’s when it began.
She stomped down hard. The crunch was audible. She left her foot splayed out, buried deep into my crotch. My nuts exploded in pain and the agony wracked me all over. I let out a loud, pained wretch. “That won’t do,” she said annoyedly. "If you're going to overreact to a little nut crunching, somebody's going to call the police."
She left her foot sunk into what used to be functional reproductive organs and bent over to the floor reaching for her sweaty sports sock on the ground, leveraging her weight hard into my nuts. She gave me an awe-inspiring view of her curves as she bent down and came back up, her hair whipping sensually across her figure. She bent in closer to me, face to face, giving me a view down her top and pressed her foot excruciatingly deeper into my nuts.
“Open wide,” she said as she forced her sweat-stained, yellowed sock into my mouth. I took it willingly and feverishly, no longer hiding my adoration for her feet.
She then began a whirlwind attack on my crotch. Stomping over and over again, working up a serious sweat. My senses were in overload, the pain, the excitement, were all too much.
She stomped faster and faster, bringing me closer and closer to the edge. Our eyes locked, she could see I was ready to explode in my underpants.
“Cum for me. Cum for me hard, baby.” I began to cum violently as she continued stomping; she was crushing the cum right out of my nuts. As the final spurt of cum left me, I clutched her arched leg around the calf and hugged it close. She planted her foot firmly over my being. The ball of her foot squeezing the last dregs of cum from my shaft, her toes wrapped around the head, pulsing down on it and her heel firmly pressing down on my balls, I savoured the moment.
I sat frozen in a reverie. Entirely drained.
“You okay, baby?” she said as she pulled her sock from my mouth roughly.
“Yeah,” I squeaked exasperated. She seemed annoyed.
She twisted her foot, grinding me out like a used cigarette. A loud crunch came from where her foot was buried deep inside me. Left to right and back again, slow and methodical. She tossed her hair back magnificently. “How about now?” I couldn’t respond. My mouth was wide open in a silent scream. My eyes frozen wide. “Better,” she said to herself.
She let me recover against her leg, my cheek on her knee, her foot still firmly planted between my legs, pinning me down by my manhood.
She let a few minutes pass then lifted her other foot to my face, pushing me back and prying me off her leg. She hopped down next to me on the couch.
“How did you know?” I managed.
“That you like your nuts busted? Other than your boner, you mean?”
“Yeah.”
“It was the other night, when I neutered that dumb jock at the party.” She began. “When we came back home I caught you jerking your dick in the bathroom into my gym sock. You kept saying, ‘Let go of my balls, Tracey, they’re going to burst.’”
“You saw that?! Oh my God! I’m so sorry.”
“That’s okay, it was actually pretty funny, plus I got a little wet thinking that I could get you off by fucking with your balls. It's fun for me. Most guys would hate that! Real men at least. You know, I’d actually say we’re closer than you and Nikki now.”
“How do you figure that?”
“You've shared your fetish with me. If you’d gotten her to bust your balls, she would definitely have told me. I mean, it’s pretty fucked up, even as far as fetishes go, she would have mentioned it. And I already know all the other details about your sex life. Or lack there of.” I couldn’t fault her logic.
She leaned over and pulled my waistband forward looking at the thick, hot, white mess covering my crotch. “Anyway, girlfriends come and go, but a friend who can make you mess yourself like that is forever.” Even I was impressed by the volume of cum down there.
“So it’ll be our little secret?” I asked.
“Yeah, sure. On one condition,” how could I not have seen this coming? This was so typical. “I make the decisions around here from now on. Also you’re now paying my share of the rent and bills too. Got it?”
I thought for a moment, I had found myself in a severely compromising position.
She placed an open palm down on my crotch and rubbed my mound in a circular motion, spreading and squelching the cum around my underpants.
I nodded feverishly. "Yes. Anything." Her hand manipulated me expertly.
“Also you’ll be buying my clothes from now on. And I even had my eyes on a pair of black PVC thigh high stiletto boots I saw the other day.”
She squeezed the head of my cock, eliciting a loud squelch.
“Will you kick me with them?!” I blurted out.
She burst out laughing. “Oh my God! You’re so pathetic. Sure I will, but only when I decide. And if you’re not ready, then bad luck.”
She bent down and grabbed her shoe from the carpet, I could see what she was doing and I opened up my crotch, presenting it willingly to her. “This is for all the pairs of socks I had to replace after I tried them on and they were all crusty.”
Holding it by the toe, she slammed the heel of her shoe down harder than any of her stomps before. "I'm sorry!" I squealed. I gasped and immediately seized up and crumpled into a ball.
She laughed to herself. “Don’t forget we’re all going out for dinner tonight. Wear some loose pants so I can fuck with your balls under the table while Nikki’s there. I want to watch you squirm in front of your precious girlfriend. A girl’s got to have her fun. Anyway, I need to have a shower but before I do, I thought as a treat for being such a good little loser boy, you could bathe my feet for me. There's a whole lot of sweat between my toes. And I want you to use your tongue.”
I lay panting on the couch from the imprint her shoe had left on my nuts. She swung her toned legs up onto the couch and pried apart my lips with her toes. I lapped at them hungrily and sucked the sweat from each toe lovingly, cleaning between them and licking her soles in long strokes. The aroma and the salty taste were better than I could have ever imagined from sniffing her socks and licking her shoes.
In those moments my life had changed immeasurably. I would have to explain to Nikki why my balls were always bruised and one day why I was sterile. But for now I was happier than I had ever been. The money wasn't that big a deal either, as I had a well-paying job and it actually served as a constant reminder of Tracey's power over me. Regardless of the pain in my testicles, it was all worth it. I should have seen this coming. Tracey has crazy eyes.
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