A Day in the Life of a Dominatrix

 by Preunbb

Jenny sighed impatiently as she rooted around her client’s ballbag for the still-intact real testicle. She’d popped one of his balls last month, after weeks of his begging and whining to be allowed to pay for the privilege. Truth be told, she would have done it for free, but she could tell from his begging and desperate look that this was worth a lot to him. It wasn’t an uncommon request: men who fantasized about castration, but weren’t willing to undergo the hormonal change it brought, frequently asked her to reduce their manhood to the minimum number of functioning testicles. They wanted to experience the pain and humiliation and delicious sense of submission that a rupture brought, but didn’t want their sex lives ended. She’d never bargained anyone up to the $10,000 fee that Sean offered to pay, but he had a lot of cash and his preferences had become...very intense.

But now, she couldn’t remember which one she had broken! The insecure little wimp didn’t like the way his sack looked lopsided, and had wanted to opt for a very realistic fake testicle in place of the functioning one she had broken. She’d had a different suggestion for how to “fix” his lopsidedness, but his horrified expression told her that a voluntary castration wasn’t on the table.

Not yet, anyway. She knew if she stayed with him long enough, and continued to push his limits far beyond what he’d first asked for, he’d eventually beg her for it. He’d originally just come to her for forced ejaculation, some facesitting, and mild femdom stuff. Month by month, she had suggested more and more radical forms of domination, and he’d reluctantly agreed to each of his pro-domme’s ideas. Eventually, he was the one begging for more extreme torture, culminating in his recent partial neutering.

Today’s session wasn’t anything as fun as that. He was laying obediently on his side, his totally-full scrotum peeking out between his legs. She was probing it boredly, trying to pick out which of his balls was actually causing the pain. She was tired of having half of her ballbusting efforts be wasted, and she wanted to focus all her pain on a flesh-and-blood testicle instead of his silicone one. She barely resisted the temptation to “accidentally” fall forward and splatter all of his scrotal contents into mush.

She tried pinning just one of his nuts into him to see which one caused more pain, but the boy moaned whenever she put pressure on his scrotum anywhere, and both were too slippery to pin down effectively. Either one would just slip out under her foot, and the idiot had even had his fake ball attached to him with a realistic nutcord, so she couldn’t just press down on them to see which one was actually attached.

Inspiration struck her. She had an idea.

He’d specifically asked her not to kick him with her pointy-toed boots. Apparently the doctors had really scared him silly, and he was worried that a large amount of force over such a small area could pop his last nut. Of course, she found the request incredibly insulting; she would never pop a testicle accidentally (not anymore, anyways, with how much practice she had). He should have more faith in her than that.

If she kicked him in his real testicle, he might actually start freaking out about his injuries, instead of just the insipid moaning that her ineffective stomping was causing.

She pulled her leg back, and kicked her toe forward hard. The pointy black toe of her boot found his left testicle, and pinned it against his thigh. Her toe continued into the ball slightly, and she felt the satisfying *crunch* that real testicular damage brought. She smiled. Her guess had been correct. Any minute now, Sean would start twitching and crying and yelling their safeword, begging her not to injure his ball anymore…

She waited, but her sub only rewarded her with more insipid moans. Her smile turned to a frown. She had just sent an incredible kick into a worthless hunk of silicone. Worse, she’d been tricked into thinking she’d gotten a nice partial rupture.

Unless that was the way he acted under immense pain. She’d just have to kick his other one and compare his reactions. She wound up her leg again, and kicked with even more force into the hopefully-real right testicle.

*POP*

She hadn’t expected the organ to give way. She lost her balance as his real testicle lost its structure. He might have been able to get his ball in working order if Jenny had only landed the kick. But she fell forward as well, twisting the decidedly genuine testicle underfoot and pureeing it to mush. She gasped in surprise as Sean started that familiar ululation of the recently castrated man. She must be out of practice, or this wimp had seriously fragile balls. She guiltily remembered his first testicle popping very quickly. She should have known he couldn’t handle her hardest kick.

But her guilt turned to anger as she thought the whole situation through. Sean was certainly going to beg her to castrate him eventually. And when he did...well, she probably could have negotiated him up to $25,000! This asshole’s weak testicles had just denied her a major payday.

She sighed and stepped off of him, packing her various dominatrix instruments up as he twitched and moaned. She shriveled her nose in disgust as he started on his final ejaculation, his untouched little penis shooting out stream after stream of pinkish cum and testicular bits onto his apartment’s floor. She was glad she had done an in-house call; she’d have had to charge his card for the carpet cleanup, and explaining to a local business that she had bits of testicle all over her rug was always awkward.

Suddenly, she remembered that she still had Sean’s debit card on file. She could charge him the price she deserved for his castration. She laughed with relief. Things were going to work out fine. Of course, he could contest the card with his credit agency, but in her experience, recent eunuchs were much too submissive and embarrassed to go fussing about with something that might piss her off more. She got in her car and drove home, passing an ambulance with sirens on rushing to Sean’s house.

It had been another fine day of work.