Cock and ball torture story (CBT)

Mr. Atkins was a dick. There’s no other way to say it. I had asked for a reasonable raise last year, and of course, he said no. Everyone else got a raise except for me. I was starting to realize my boss had it out for me. Not only had he denied me a raise, but he stopped calling on me in meetings and no longer even acknowledged my existence. 

I started looking for new jobs, but the market was so tough. It seemed like I was never going to find a way out of this place. 

But one night while my girlfriends and I were drinking some wine, we were browsing the Craigslist Personals just for fun, and I happened to come across an ad that looked very familiar. 

Torturing my bosses balls

“Holy shit!” I shrieked, grabbing the laptop screen to I could see it better. “That’s my boss!”

There he was on the screen, posting an ad about looking for someone to kick him in the nuts. Apparently, Mr. Atkins was into cock and ball torture. I couldn’t believe it. It felt like I finally had the ammunition needed to get back at my terrible boss. . .

I showed up for work on Monday armed with a folder full of photos I had printed off of Craigslist. I knocked on my boss’s door first thing in the morning. He hadn’t even had his coffee yet.

“Can I help you, Christine?” he asked, looking perturbed. His thinning gray hair was slicked back, and his eyes narrowed at me behind his glasses.

“I had something that might be of interest to you.” I smiled at him, unable to control how smug I felt. 

I tossed the file folder onto his desk and watched as he picked it up. The color drained from his face as he looked at the contents. 

“What is—how did you—” he stammered.

I leaned over his desk with a smirk on my face. “You should have put a better filter on that picture. It was so obviously you.”

He leaned back in his chair and snarled at me. “So what do you want?”

“Well, Joe,” I started, “I was thinking you get me that raise I asked for. You know I deserved it.”

“Anything else?”

“I want to kick you in the balls.”

He looked into my eye. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“After work,” I said, “when the office is empty. Otherwise, I’m going to tell everyone about your little Craigslist ad.”

I knew I had him in a tough position, and I could see the wheels turning in his head. There was no way out of this one. I was going to get my raise and get to torture my boss. This was the best day ever.

At shortly after 5, when the last of the sales staff were saying goodbye, I got up from my desk and headed to my boss’s office. He was sitting behind his desk with his head in his hands, looking stressed.

“Let’s get this over with,” he groaned, standing up.

I circled around him a few times, trying to decide what to do first. I had never done anything like this before.

“Stand up straight,” I ordered.

I put my foot right underneath his crotch and struck it upwards, the toe of my boot connecting right on his balls. I watched with delight as Mr. Atkins keeled over, gasping in pain.

“Stand up!”

He straightened once again. I delivered another hard blow to his poor nuts, giving him a few kicks back-to-back. 

“Holy shit!” he moaned. “That fucking kills.”

I laughed. “Isn’t that the point? You love this, don’t you? Take your pants and underwear off for me.”

There was a moment’s hesitation, but I think he realized I wasn’t messing around anymore. When he pulled down his dress pants and boxers, I wasn’t surprised to see that his cock was already half-hard. He really was into pain, wasn’t he?

I stepped forward and gave his cock a few hard flicks with my finger, before moving on to smacking him with my open palm. Mr. Atkins winced and whimpered with every blow, his face turning bright red. It was hilarious to watch his expressions contort from the pain.

“Please,” he groaned, “isn’t this enough? What if I agree to give you an extra $5,000?”

I reached underneath his cock and twisted his balls in my hands. They were saggy and loose. I had never seen an old man’s balls before. I squeezed them like they were stress toys.

“I don’t think so,” I said, feeling meaner than ever. An extra $5,000 was an insult. 

“AHHH!” his voice tapered off into a high-pitched squeal as I twisted both balls in opposite directions. They felt hot and soft in my hands, and I knew they had to feel like they were on fire.

I took a step back and began to assault him with my feet again. I had specifically picked this pair of boots today because they were the heaviest. I’m sure it felt like a brick being thrown against his poor cock and balls, over and over. I made him stand up as best as he could as I slammed my foot into his nut sack. 

“I think I want you on the ground,” I said suddenly, as inspiration struck.

“Why?” he looked at me worriedly. His forehead was creased with lines of concern. “You sadistic little bitch.”

I stepped forward and dug my long, pointy nails into his balls. “Don’t you ever speak to me like that,” I hissed, “or you’ll pay.”

A fire had been lit inside me. I hadn’t expected this to feel so good, but I was really enjoying my revenge.

Mr. Atkins did as I asked and stretched out on the office floor. He looked ridiculous laying there with his pants around his ankles. 

From this angle, it was much easier to deliver a series of hard kicks against his balls. I used my shoes to force his legs apart, giving me easy access to his most sensitive area. I kicked him three times with my right foot, then three times with my left. Each time, his body twitched and writhed. He looked like he was about to throw up from the pain, and I was starting to feel bad for him. 

“Fucking bitch,” he groaned, gritting his teeth. His face was bright red and covered in sweat as he snarled at me.

I shook my head and clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth. “What did I say about your language, Joe?”

His eyes widened, as though he was wondering what I had in store now. I raised my foot up against his cock and lowered it right onto his throbbing shaft, smashing him underneath my heel. I released him after a few seconds and went straight back to kicking his nuts.

I dropped down to my knees so that I was right in between his legs. I never imagined I would be this up close and personal with my boss. Looking at his cock and balls felt gross, but I loved having my way with them.

I started pressing my nails into his balls again. Mr. Atkins let out a long, low hiss, like all the air was deflating from his body. Clearly, he was suffering. He started to roll back and forth, but I straddled him so he couldn’t go anywhere.

“Christine,” he said, panting now. “I will give you anything you want. Please! Just let me go. You’ve had your fun. I’m sorry I called you a bitch.”

“Don’t worry,” I chided. “I’m almost done with you. I’ve got better things to do with my evening than sit here and play with your wrinkly old balls anyway.”

I slapped his balls and cock haphazardly now, not even paying attention to where my hands were landing. I smacked him over and over, and the sound of skin slapping against skin reverberated in his quiet, empty office. I twisted his balls one last time for good measure, my eyes staring straight into his as I did so. 

Finally, when I felt almost completely satisfied, I stood up and gave his poor, sore cock one last good stomp of my foot. He didn’t even complain at this point, and it made me think he was just numb down there entirely. 

“Tomorrow, I’ll expect the paperwork about my raise,” I said, staring down at him. His chest was heaving up and down so hard. “If you don’t, I’ll tell—”

“I know,” he moaned, clutching his crotch. “You’ll tell everyone about me. I promise, you’ll get your raise.”

“Good. And more respect,” I added, heat rising to my cheeks. “No more ignoring me at meetings. No more treating me like I don’t exist. Understood?”

His eyes looked a little deranged as he stared at me. “Yes, Christine. Understood. Are we finished here?”

I thought I could hear the weekly cleaners getting off the elevator, making Mr. Atkins jerk his head up suddenly.

“Shit,” he hissed.

I leaned over him one last time and spit right onto his cock.

“Better hurry up,” I said teasingly. “Sounds like they’re here to clean your office.”

And with that, I turned on my heel and headed out of his office, hitting the light switch along the way.