There came Friday, the day of my bet agreement. The day when I ought to get Tom convinced of my liking to have my balls abused by girls. Being told of my bet, Natasha had been very interested in it and suggested her assistance. She said she would be somewhere near the place of our bet execution and appear on the spot as soon as it was necessary. I agreed. I chose Nina and her girlfriend Julie to carry out the ballbusting mission. Natasha had a preliminary chat with the girls, some kind of instruction, (I wasn't allowed to hear it) and then I was told to inform Tom of the place and time to meet. Julie's parents were out of town that evening, so I and Tom were to come to her garden about seven o'clock.

At the appointed time I and Tom entered the garden to see Nina and Julie sitting on the bench. I looked around. Natasha was not seen anywhere. Nevertheless I felt she was somewhere near. No doubt she was up to something. Something very exciting.
 

The girls got up and walked over to us. I'd told Tom that the girls were informed of our bet and knew what I wanted of them. It didn't take me long to pull my pants down while standing before Nina, my legs wide apart. The girls giggled.

"Pete," Nina said, "are you sure you want me to kick you down there?"

"Not just "down there" but right in my balls," I declared assuredly.

"But it will hurt you," she rejoined.

"That's exactly what I want of you - to make my balls hurt like hell."

Nina wasn't in any hurry at all. She stood in front of me, gazing at my uncovered genitals,  smiling cunningly. We'd already made good friends with her and she really didn't have any wish to hurt me. She'd rather kicked Tom's groin but she could do that only after my balls were abused.

I looked at Nina's feet, then her legs that disappeared under her skirt just below her knees. Mentally I saw how her legs went on up beneath her skirt, I saw the place where her legs met, the place I so envied her for there was no those things she saw between my legs. I badly wanted her to abuse those things and set my mind on painful jealousy. I wanted to be burning with jealousy and envy.

I closed my eyes and said in a pleading voice:

"Please kick, please do."

And she did. She kicked me in the place where my own legs met. Obviously she didn't want to hurt me too much and her kick was none of the hardest ones. But the testicles, the things that hang from the male lower limbs conjunction, are constructed in such a "a-kick- welcomed" way that the most sensitive part of them is their bottom. The testicles being the most vulnerable part of human body, their bottom twice as sensitive as all the rest of those dangling organs. So what Nina thought to be some kind of mercy to me was a horrible disaster to my balls. Her sandaled foot at once switched on all the pain receptors of the nerves my lower scrotum was swarmed with. The nerves that Nature on some vogue purpose connected directly to the breath center. Like no girl will ever know what it feels to have the balls hurt, so no one of them ever will be able to know how the testicle bottom differs in sensitiveness from the rest of those vulnerable organs. And never she will understand how rather a light impact on the soft orbs hanging between the legs can send a human being into a breathless agony.

And being a male, I knew all that. And not only knew, but it was me who lay on the ground, unable to breath, unable to control my legs, unable to quench the pain in my body, the pain that had shot up from the lower scrotum high up to my stomach. The throbbing source of my helplessness was clutched in my hands, the helpless hands that could not to put out the searing  fire my testicles were on. I looked up along Nina's shapely legs. Somewhere up them, under her skirt, there was a groin that would never know what searing testicles are. In her body there would never be a "clutch-the-poor-things-between-the-legs" reflex. There were simply no poor thing between her legs.

I managed to take a first breath to name my own poor things in a pathetic groan:

"Oh, baaalls, baaaalls!"

Both the girls couldn't help laughing.

I often asked myself - what did I love about having my balls hurt? Did I love the pain? No, not the pain. From the very first time my balls were hit I hate this kind of pain. The pain, which is excruciating and unbearable. Neither I loved the helplessness of the situation. While having a terrible toothache you still can easily move around, but having the balls in pain means being unable to control your legs. It really humiliates. The thing I loved about all that was those laughs and giggles of the girls that happened to witness my weakness. My first ball-pain was witnessed by lots of girls and they all laughed at me. Girls always laugh when they see a boy gets his balls injured. They laugh not because of being rude and violent, they just laugh because they've no testicles between their legs, those weak balls. And that's the thing I love. The very thing Tom hated - having his balls abused by girls. But I loved it. Loved because I envied them. It was already a reflex in my body and mind, an envious reflex. The moment my hands grabbed my hurt balls in my mind there was a picture of a cute slit between a girl's legs. The harder I clutched my poor balls the more vivid was the picture. I would cry in pain "My balls!" and mentally I was exclaiming "Pussy!". And the girl's laughs and giggles around just confirmed my envy. The girls laughed because they were happy not to have balls like me and my envy made sense. No one of the laughing girls could wish to possess balls like me, no one of them envied me at such moments. Tom and all the rest boys could say they never envy girls but it didn't matter for me at all. I would envy girls. And they would laugh at my weakness because they had pussies not penises and balls. I hated the pain, I hated the helplessness but I did love the laughs.

Tom hated the laughs. He did from the very first time his elder sister hit him in the balls. Unlike him from the very first my sister had hurt my balls I loved those laughs. I wished I could laugh like them at some poor guy whose balls were hurting like hell and be happy having a different body structure. The body without testicles.

"Baaaaalls," I gave out another groan. Sure it did give the girls one more mental impulse to feel proud of not having those things I was so painfully naming.

"Do they hurt so bad?" asked Julie.

I nodded.

Tom stepped closer to me and said:

"Then why did you, idiot, let her kick you. You said you liked being kicked in the balls. But I don't see any pleasure in your eyes, stupid dude. Why did you let her?"

Nina turned to Tom.

"He just envies girls, envies what we have instead of balls."

"Girls have nothing," Tom snorted scornfully, "So no boy can envy you, stupid girls."

Tom bent over me and looking straight in my eyes asked:

"Pete, I don't know any boy who envies girls their silly pussies. Don't tell me you do."

I moaned heavily to pronounce: "I do."

"Then you are a damn moron," Tom smirked.

"Well," Julie cut in, "Tom, your friend may be a moron, but we're aware of your bet. Now it's your turn to get kicked in the balls."

"Never," Tom snarled, "never I let a girl kick my balls. Never a creature with nothing but a stupid hole between her legs will kick me down there. Unlike this fool I never dream of having a hole instead of the things I have. I'm proud of what I have and you'll ever be envying me my things no matter how happy you may feel with your holes after you kicked such a sissy as Pete. You'd better give him one more kick but not me. Maybe whatever he has between his legs will turn into a silly pussy after a good kick. He doesn't deserve to have what all the other men are so proud of."

Tom turned over and headed for the gates. Just then out of the bushes there appeared Natasha and in a few seconds she was dragging Tom back to us holding him by his crotch.

"There, there, little brat," Natasha said in a cheerful tone , "so you are proud of those things in your pants."

"Let me off, let me off!" Tom was shouting nervously.

"First let us see the things you are so proud of," saying that Natasha winked at the girls.

"Leave my balls alone!" Tom kept on crying.

"Oh, boy, I wouldn't have grasped your poor balls if you'd kept your promise and let the girls kick down there. Wasn't that agreed between you and Pete?"

"I'm no fool like Pete, no fool at all!"

"And you are so proud of your balls," Natasha smiled slyly. "Anyone has the right to be proud of any part of their body. As well as the right to envy any other part their body doesn't possess. As well as not envy anyone. But you offended the girls and you did me. I never knew that what I have on the place where you have your dangling worm and sack is just a silly hole. I'm proud of what I have and can't stand any offence to my body. I don't want you to envy me but I want you to respect my body. The body without those things you're so afraid to be kicked in by a girl. So, will you let the girls to kick you?"

"No!" Tom wailed.

"Okay, girls, let's take his pants off," Natasha set Tom's crotch free to get immediately his both arms behind his back and in her firm grasp. Holding the boy from behind, Natasha made peeling the pants off him an easy task for the girls. In a few seconds Tom's lower part was stark naked.

"And now girl's do what I told you." Natasha commanded.

In a short while Julie fetched a long water hose, attached it to the water outlet at the porch and holding it by the free end walked up to Tom and Natasha.

"I'm ready," she reported.

"Then let Nina turn on the water." Natasha gave out another command.

Soon water rushed out of the hose. Julie squeezed the hose end in her hands to make the water squirt more powerful and then aimed it right into the Tom's groin. He started kicking both his legs, trying to dodge the powerful squirt. For a while the boy had success in avoiding his fate and Julie kept on failing to hit his balls with the thin water stream. Watching Tom desperately wriggling I remembered how water could hurt the balls. I remembered my naked jumping into the lake. The way my balls and the girls' groins entered the water. The sudden, killing pain in my testicles and female bodies smoothly, painlessly entering the water. I imagined the pain Tom was going to be in if the water squirt hit his balls. Not so much for imagination, yet. My own balls were still terribly aching.

At last Julie achieved her purpose and the water squirt flew right into Tom's scrotum. A high-pitched cry of pain followed. Natasha at once set him free to let his body collapse, his hands holding his balls. Tom lay on the ground his face down, his legs throbbing in convulsive movements, his hands twitching madly beneath his body at his groin area. Soon he turned over onto his back, his poor, water-abused, girl-humiliated balls still in his trembling hands.

One burst of female laughter was followed with another, the water hose dropped from Julie's hands.

"Girls," Natasha said, suppressing her laughter, "it's time to show him how nice it feels to be a female. Let's show him."

And all the girls started taking off their dresses. Soon all the three were in their bikinis.

"Show him, Julie," Natasha exclaimed and the girl snatched the water hose again and aimed the squirt right at Natasha's groin. The water stream breaking up against her body, Natasha stood upright, her legs wide apart.

"See, boy, it's only pleasure the water squirt gives me," Natasha teased Tom (as well as me), "and you didn't stand even for a second with the water stream against your balls, the poor balls you are so proud of. Julie, just give me the hose."

And soon the water squirt was flowing into Julie's groin, then in Nina's. The girls started romping about trying to get the more water on their groins, pushing each other aside.

"See Tom how happy they are. Happy with their "silly" holes and without your "clever" balls," Natasha went on rubbing it in Tom and me, we both holding our aching balls and watching the girl's having fun of their natural advantage over our inborn weakness. And in spite of all the pain, in spite of my envy, the envy that was about to explode my damn balls, in spite of all that I loved the girl's mirth. And I loved watching Tom's suffering, watching him staring at the girls' groins that welcomed the water on them, the water that gave him an unbearable pain and made him so helpless. Just a quick contact of the water with the nerve endings that were tightly packed in his sack made him so humiliated in the eyes of the girls, the girls that would never know what it feels to have the balls be whipped with a water squirt. Nor would ever they feel their balls impacting the water surface while jumping naked from a cliff. Because there are no "their" balls. There are only "our" balls. Mine, Tom's, that poor boy's in the bathhouse, all the other men - all those are "our" balls. They're "ours" because when I see a baseball hits the catcher's groin I know what he feels and no girl can imagine that thing. Because there are no such a thing as girls' testicles.

I had no idea if Tom at that moment envied the girls. But it didn't matter at all. To hell with his envy or non-envy. He could be proud of his balls, he could envy girls worse than me - all that was his own problem. I just liked seeing him in a miserable condition. Natasha was right - everyone had the right for proud and the right for envy.

As for me I was envying as always. Watching the girls letting the water squirt land on the groins - it looked splendid, splendid when the things attached to your own groin were squeezed in your hands and you knew no way to drive the pain out of them.

"Tom, hey, Tom," Natasha kept on teasing. "Why don't you get up and join us? I guess that's grand, I mean to have balls."

Nina shouted loud:

"Oh, girls, I do so wanna have balls to be happy like Tom."

Soon in Nina's hands appeared two ping-pong balls. Wow, that was the trick I taught her! Not the way she quickly fetched the ping-pong balls but what she was going to do with them. In a moment the two balls were under her bikini, just in the place where a male human is supposed to have his gonads.

"Look girls, I've got balls," she declared proudly. "Not silly pee-holes like you but real wonderful balls. Let everyone of you envy me."

Suddenly Natasha grasped Nina's arms and pulled them behind her back to take hold of her the way she did with Tom. Julie picked up the water hose and aimed the squirt onto Nina's "testicles".

The water splashing on the orbs under her bikini, Nina started screaming:

"My balls, my balls, they hurt so, or my balls, just let me go."

Natasha freed Nina's arms and the girl dropped down beside Tom, holding her fake testicles in her hands.

"Oh, woe is me, it hurts like hell, can't bear it" Nina was preaching, "Girls, do stop giggling, it's such a pain, oh, how could you know it - you've no balls."

Nina imitated some agony writhing and went on moan-talking:

"I thought it was great to have balls. I was so proud of them. I wanted all the girls envy me but they so hurt now. Oooooooh, now I envy all the girls, oooooh, my balls, I don't wanna have them, no more. I do wanna play with you girls but because of the balls I can't, ooooh,  they so hurt... girls how lucky you are with your without them."

I looked at Tom. No doubt he felt humiliated. All that "fake-balls-teasing" had an enormous effect on him. Okay, let the boy experience some pussy envy. I guessed his sister had hit his balls a wrong way not to have given him any envy of that kind. Mine was far more successful. A proper deed in a proper place, in a proper time and I was bestowed with pussy envy for the rest of my life. A good slap to my balls, a sharp pain I've never known before, sudden weakness in the legs, a fall onto the floor and the laughing and giggling of the nude girls,  and my sister standing beside me, with the neat slit between her legs, the thing I haven't paid much attention before, standing over me and looking at the things she hasn't paid enough attention before either - my balls, standing totally befuddled with what has happened and getting some explanation from Mommy. My sister was a real whiz-kid with her proper ballbusting action. And sure Tom's sister was a kind of loser. I've never resented that my younger sister gave me pussy envy, I'm thankful to her she gave me a good start of adoring the female genitalia.

And there, in the garden, watching Tom and Nina lying beside each other, the former in real pain and the latter faking suffering, I did not regret my pussy envy.

Nina performed some more agonizing jerks and said:

"Oh, my poor little balls, I know what to do with them. I know Tom loves to have balls but unfortunately he has only two. So I'll give him my own to let him have four."

She pushed her hand under her bikini and extracted one of the tennis balls.

"Why," she exclaimed, "the pain is twice as less!"

And she took out the other ball.

"Wow! No more pain. Tom, just let me give you these painful balls as a present," Nina put the ping-pong balls on the ground right close to the boy's loin.

Nina leapt up to her feet, crying:

"Girls, I've no balls like you, let's play again."

Then she stepped over to me and looked at my hands holding my balls.

"Oh, poor Pete, you're balls still hurt, your poor little balls. My advice - just gave those balls over to Tom to let him have six ones."

"Guess I can't do that," I replied sulkily, "they're my balls."

The pronoun "my" was the point word. Unlike the ping-pong balls Nina extracted from her bikini my testicles belonged to my body, they were of the same chemical structure, the same DNA formulas as the rest of my body, the body that so badly longed to have the other groin design...