From the very young days I've always had the need to express my feelings and thoughts in words put down on paper. And my envy had never been an exception. At those days one of my favorite authors was Rudyard Kipling and influenced by his "Just So Stories" I started writing my own stories (naively trying to copy his style). My first story was called "Why boys have weak balls". It was a tale of the first boy who had a wiener without balls and was so proud of that thing between his legs that he always jeered at his sister (the first girl), saying silly things about her not having anything between her legs. The girl told the Wood Fairy about that mockery and asked her to give her a wiener too. But the Fairy said that instead she would give the boy some other thing in addition to his wiener. The girl wasn't first satisfied for she thought it unfair when the Fairy kept on giving all things to the boy. But the Fairy performed some magic to let a pair of testicles appear between the first boy's legs, just under his wiener. And soon his sister learnt how weak he was with that new possession of his... The story was a funny one, but being one of my first writing experiences, it was clumsily written. Then I invented a few more fairy-tales of the same kind. I wrote them in a notebook which I kept hidden in my room. Unfortunately it was discovered one day by my parents; they read my tales and decided that I had some mental problem. First they wanted to show me to some doctor to examine me, but I asked them not to do that for I felt myself absolutely normal and mentally healthy.

Next door there lived a girl of about twenty two years old. A very beautiful girl. Her name was Natasha. She was a student studying psychology and my parents decided to tell her about my stories in hope she would give them some advice. First she took my tales to read and then visited us again on the next day. She asked my parents to leave us alone in my room to have a private talk with me.

"So," she started, "after reading your stories I can see you have some kind of pudendum envy, that is you envy women their genitalia, or to be simple, you've got pussy envy. I can understand such a thing. But what surprises me is that your main character in these stories, that first boy of yours, at first he hates the pain when the sister kicks his balls but then he starts liking that kind of pain, wishing  girls could kick him down there every day."

"No," I shook my head and sighed, "you get it wrong. He hates that pain. He can't like it. It's just unbearable. You can't imagine it."

"Why does he then ask girls to kick him down there?"

"For he envies them. In his dreams he imagines himself a girl kicking some other boy in the nuts. And he laughs at that boy, knowing very well what that boy feels and together with other girls he feels so proud... But all that only in his dream and in real life he lets girls hurt him and laugh at him."

"Anyway, it gives him lots of pain. One doesn't have to possess a pair of testicles to know they are extremely sensitive. I always wonder why some men like their genitals being abused by women. I'm very interested in the fact."

"My parents think I'm not normal," I said humbly, "do you think the same?"

"They asked me to check you and make sure you're normal. I don't think you are abnormal; I'm just going to know more about you and talk this question over with you just to make you feel easy at this subject. So, please, do tell me about all the cases you've been hurt down their by girls and what you felt then."

And I told her all from the very first time my balls had been hurt by my sister in the bathhouse up to my last experience with Katie and Ira by the oak tree.

"Well, Pete," Natasha said after I finished, "many years ago there was a doctor called Freud. He wrote so much about penis envy, that is when a girl envies boys their penis, feeling some sort of lack. But that doctor never said anything about boys envying girls, as if such a fact didn't exist in nature at all. But from the school days we all know that it's rather boys who like sneaking to girl's locker rooms to peep naked girls. As for girls they aren't much into peeping boys. Tell me, Pete - have you ever peeped girls in the locker room?"

I positively nodded my head.

"And other boys from your class?"

"Yes, they often do it."

"You see men of all ages are so tempted to watch naked females any time they have a chance. Aren't they feel somewhat jealous of the female body? What do you think, Pete?"

"When I was a bit younger I had so many chances to see naked girls. Mom used to take me with her to the bathhouse every week. And I liked to be among naked girls. Now I can only peep my sister or girls in the school locker room. But peeping and being among are different things."

"You know, Pete, I liked the story of your first time being hit in the balls. I mean in the bathhouse. To be true a somewhat similar thing happened to me when I was about ten years old, in the shower room of our school gym."

"A similar thing?"

"Yeah, somewhat alike."

 

"But you don't have balls to get them hurt in the shower room"

Natasha gave out a giggle.

"I mean a similar, but reversed thing. I happened to kick a boy in the shower room."

"Oh, tell me everything, please."

"Well, it happened after a gym class. I lingered in the shower room and when all the girls were gone, I was still showering alone. I just washed the soap off my face to find a naked boy of my age standing right in front of me. As I'd learn later he had no intentions to peep anybody but just thought there was no one in the shower room. But at that moment my only thought was that that idiot sneaked in the shower room on the only purpose to watch me naked. And I think it was my deep female instinct that compelled me to sent my foot right into the boy's groin. I've never before hurt any boy down there. But that female instinct tells every girl - if a guy tries to take an unwelcome glimpse of what you have between your legs, just kick him between his own. The poor boy screamed like mad, grasped his nuts and in no time was down on he floor, rolling in agony. And watching him so helpless I felt no shame of being naked, nor I felt any sort of lack of anything between my legs, as Freud had so liked to describe girls feelings when they see a naked boy."

"Wow, Natasha, that was great! I just can imagine what the boy felt then."

"By the way, that boy is now a friend of mine. But then I had some problems with the principal and the boy's parents about that kick of mine."

"Wonder if the guy envies girls as I do," I said thoughtfully.

"Would you like to meet him, Pete."

"Sure, I do."

"Well, you can do it tomorrow. I invite you to my home, let say it, at 6 o'clock. Will you come?"

"I will," I smiled contentedly.

 

The verdict was carried out - I was absolutely normal. Natasha just suggested that my parents try to make my imagination and writing exercises turn in some other direction. She said that some day I may become an author and it was no good to kill my desire to invent stories and adventures. But my own adventures with Natasha had only begun...

As it was appointed the next day I came to Natasha's at six o'clock.

She opened the door and welcomed me inside to her bedroom. There I saw a young man sitting in the armchair.

"Pete," said Natasha as the man got up, "This is my friend, Denis. That same boy from the shower room. Nowadays he's a seaman and look what he's brought here from overseas."

"Hi, Pete, nice to meet you," Denis shook hands with me and then picked up a video tape from the bedside table.

"You ought to see it," Natasha said to me," it's from America. They call it ballbusting over there."

"Ballbusting?" I repeated the English word that meant nothing to me. "What's that?"

"You'll see now," replied Denis and inserted the tape into the video player.

In the days of my childhood my country was ruled by the Communists and most of the people were separated from the rest of the world by the Iron Curtain. There was no internet, no satellite TV, not many people had video-players (so Natasha was a lucky one) and we lived in some kind of info vacuum. The sailors being people who had some access to the outside world, they often brought movies and magazines from abroad, along with many other things that one wasn't able to get within the country. So I anticipated seeing something interesting.

Natasha pushed the PLAY button and said:

"Pete, you'd better take a seat."

I sat down on the bed, just opposite the TV set.

The tape started playing and soon on the screen there appeared a man and two girls. One swift kick of one of the girls and the man was down on the floor, holding his groin, an awful grimace on
his face. The girls laughed loud, mocking the guy in English (a strange language to me in those days).
 
It was so cool!

Natasha looked at me and smiled:

"I see you like it. Let's watch it further."

I think that video was one of the first ballbusting scenes screened. Looking back at that tape from nowadays I see it as a rather clumsy thing. But then, sitting there in Natasha's room, I was so enchanted with it. I'd never dreamed that I would ever be able to see such things on TV screen. And it was possible to replay it to watch that moaning man and laughing girls again and again. Watch his face expression, those shaking hands terribly clutching his crotch and the two pair of long, shapely legs towering over his jelly body.

A few more episodes with the same actors ensued. The kicks, knees and punches every time sent the poor guy down onto the floor to the girl's great merriment. The tape stopped, Natasha turned to me and asked:

"Well, Pete, what will you say to that?"

I was breathing heavily:

"It's great, it's great! But there's one thing about it -I think it all needs some improvement.  You see, the guy was naked once, when they were squeezing his balls, but the girls never got naked. They were always dressed. If they would have been nude, the guy would envy them so bad. I know it for sure."

"Well," Denis said, "I've seen a couple of such tapes. The girls are always dressed. I guess many guys like it more. But we both, Pete, started our interest in ballbusting after our balls were abused by naked girls. You had even more luck for there were lots of girls around you."

"You see, Pete," Natasha said, "Men have their own reasons for liking ballbusting. And those reasons differ a lot. You, for example, envy girls and having your testicles abused by girls makes your envy deeper and sharper. But other men possess another psychological motivation for ballbusting."

I turned to Denis:

"I think we share the same reason."

"I think we do," replied Denis.

"It's a pity," I sighed, "I can't go to the bathhouse with girls now. Nor can I shower with them in the school shower room to let one of them kick me the balls."

"But you can use your imagination," Natasha said, "to get the same effect."

"How?" I asked.

"Now look at this," she took a color magazine from the bookshelf. "Denis has brought it also from abroad. It's called "Playboy"."

She handed the magazine over to me.

On the cover there was a semi-nude girl and above her words I couldn't understand. I opened it. Inside there were pics of nude models. They all seemed extremely beautiful to me.

"Do you want one of them kick you in the balls?" Natasha asked.

"Yes, but they are far away and I'll never meet them."

"But you can imagine it. Remember you told me about your experience with a plastic ruler. Just choose the girl you like best, take your pants off and give a good flick to your balls, fancying
it's the girl from the page who kicks you."

"Can I do it right now?"

"Sure, I'll be pleased to see it." Natasha smiled.

I chose the picture of a naked girl taking a shower and showed it to Natasha.

"Let it be her. Let's pretend I sneaked in the shower room and she suddenly discovered me, like you did Denis."

"Good choice," Natasha smiled.

I put the magazine on the table up against the wall and facing the picture, yanked my pants down. Natasha handed me the ruler she had fetched for me.

And so I stood there, in the middle of the room, staring at the nude, beautiful girl on the page of the foreign magazine. I looked at her pussy, and then shifted my eyes to my wiener and balls. How I wished there was a pussy instead. And again I looked at the girl.

"Why do you hesitate?" exclaimed Natasha. "The girl already saw you peeping. Let her kick you in your hanging things. Let her!"

I curved the ruler making it ready to flick my balls. My eyes were fixed on the girl's pussy that was so beautifully situated between her shapely legs. And I so badly wanted one of those legs to give me a kick in between my own.

"Come on, boy!” Natasha urged me. "No fear!"

I let the ruler sharply flick my balls.

"Oooooooh!" I screamed with pain and fell on the floor. "Ooooh, my balls, my damn balls."

I was rolling on the floor, both my hands between my legs.

Natasha picked up the magazine and put the picture just before my eyes and shouted straight into my ear:

"You see this girl, you see her. Why did you peep her? Do you envy her body?"

I nodded in pain.

"Do you wish you had a pussy like her?"

I nodded again.

"Then don't hold those balls," Natasha was shouting in my ear. "They are not yours. Nature's put them between your legs by mistake."

"I can't," I moaned, "they hurt..."

"If you get your hands off those balls I'll give you a pile of such magazines. And you will let those beautiful girls kick you in the balls whenever you want. Just do it - hands off the balls! Leave them alone with their pain. They aren't where they should belong. "

Though the pain was extreme, I obeyed Natasha. I tore my hands off my painful testicles to snatch at once the magazine from her hand. I looked at the girl on the picture. She was so beautiful and she was smiling at me, at me who was in such a pain because of my balls.

Natasha gently cupped my aching balls and looked straight into my eyes.

"Good boy! I know the pain is awful but you wanted it. By this pain you wanted to say to Mother Nature she was unfair when she gave a pussy to this girl in the magazine, to your mother, your sister, your cousin Ira, your neighbor Natasha, but not to you. Am I right?"

I gave out an envious moan in reply and dropped the magazine from my hand. Natasha picked it up and again put it before my eyes, still holding my burning balls in her hand.

"Just look at the girl, she says to you - "Pete, dear Pete, sorry for hurting your little nuts. I know you like to peep naked girls for you envy them their pussy. Sorry you haven't one to be allowed showering with us."

Natasha gave a slight squeeze to my balls, I screamed and tore the page with the showering girl off the magazine to squeeze it in my hand, while tears were running down my cheeks...