Ball Busting Agreement

I wake slowly. The sun is shining in my eyes, but that isn't what wakes me.

"Get up, wake up sleepyhead!" My young wife stands next to my bed, prodding me. I look at her, marveling at her beauty and once again am astonished that I somehow married someone half my age and so beautiful. She is wearing nothing but panties, and her firm young breasts stand with hard nipples, not a bit of sag.

"Come on, babe, I have to get to work. Let's get going." My wife chides me lovingly, but with a tiny bit of edge in her voice. She wants to get this over with.

So do I; it isn't pleasant. In fact, I hate it.

"Yes, Monica," I say and then kick the covers off. Shoving one pillow under my hips I bend my knees and then spread them as wide as I can, exposing my genitals. My hands go behind the small of my back, gripping one another. In the past, I have had trouble keeping them out of the way; it's automatic to try and protect myself.  Placed behind me like this, it is easier to keep still.

Monica positions herself at the end of the bed, leans over and touches my scrotum. Lifting and pulling, she checks their health. The touch of her soft fingers fondling my defenseless gonads is arousing and my cock grows hard. She wraps a small bungie around my balls, separating and lifting them.

She then stands, and without any further warning swings the heavy studded belt in her hand up over her shoulder, then brings it forward and down onto my exposed and vulnerable balls. There is a loud, distinct whack as the strap strikes my most sensitive anatomy.

"Uhhgg... one!" I manage to grunt out. The pain of that first strike is always horrible and unexpected.

Monica swings again; the belt hits my balls precisely on target again, and the shock of pain once again slices through my groin, building and adding to the last stroke.

"Aaaah! two!" I moan. I want to close my knees together but manage to keep them spread wide.

Whack!

"AAAH!!!... three!"

Whack!

"Aaahhaaaahh! ...." I pant, catching my breath. "Four!"

Whack! The studs on the belt are cruel; they add extra dimensions of pain to the ball torture delivered by my cute wife.

"Aahgghg, oh fuck..." I say and then forget my place.

"Five, dear. Say it." Monica pauses.

"Five!" I grunt. It is all I can do to keep my knees spread, but I do.

Whack!

"Oh, god, oh.... oh, please.... six!" I manage to grunt out. The pain has spread from my testicles throughout my entire lower body.

Monica comes close to me, and kisses me full on the lips. I can feel her young tongue in my mouth, but it is hard to kiss back. I am hurting, and kissing her back is just automatic. Soft breasts slide over my naked chest as Monica returns to her position.

Whack!

"Ohh....... shitshtishit..." I am beginning to sob real tears. It has gotten to the point the pain isn't spiraling that much worse with each strike; I am already reaching the maximum pain level. The strikes just give the agony a boost, keep it going and prolong it.

"Seven..." I whisper.

Whack!

"Oh..." I manage a gurgle. My hands are gripping each other behind my back as hard as they can.

"Eight."

Monica is shifting position to get a good angle for the last two strikes. She wants to give them some extra power. She is petite but works out and is muscular. She puts everything she has into the next strike. She is good; her strikes are always right on target, seldom raising welts on the flesh surrounding my scrotum.

Whack!

"AAAAAHHH!  gggggggggg" I scream and then gurgle. When I recover, I say the word. "Nine."

Whack!

I hardly feel the last impact. My balls aren't numb, but the pain has become so all encompassing that the extra strike doesn't seem to matter as much.

"Ten." I gurgle in a strained voice and then roll over in the bed, my knees coming together and my hands instinctively going to cover my groin.

Monica kisses me on the cheek, hangs the belt up, and then heads to the bathroom to get ready for work. I simply lay curled in a fetal position on the bed, waiting for the pain to subside enough that I can move.

Twenty minutes later I limp into the bathroom. Monica has showered and is putting makeup on. She doesn't need it, she is naturally gorgeous. She stops to kiss me affectionately. I am able to kiss back this time, though I am still in agony.

The pain is pretty much gone by the time I get to work. I walk in a little gingerly, as I do most days.

I don't like having my balls beaten like this. But I do love my wife, and I love fucking my wife, and I am still amazed that this young girl is with me. Sometimes I consider skipping the sex with Monica just so I don't have to get my balls beaten the next morning. But I never seem to actually do it. We go to bed and her soft, smooth skin seduces me, her sweet breath and silky hair pull me in, her legs encircle me and my hard cock slips inside her.

The next morning is agony, but so far, it is worth it.