Bust 'Em or Bite 'Em Again: More Erotic Stories of Ball-Busting and Hard CBT

By Matt Nicholson

The 2nd Bust ‘Em or Bite ‘Em’ Anthology features 8 new and exciting stories of femdom, ball-busting and hard CBT. Like the first, this one explores all sorts of new and wonderful possibilities.

Blaming Ashleigh Madison - When a particularly wicked female sadist surprises her sub with an unscheduled scene, he’s only happy to submit. It’s not until he’s naked and helpless, and sweet CBT slowly drives him to tears, that he learns it isn't a BDSM scene at all. Instead, it's a wicked punishment, one that will ensure he never speaks the words "Ashleigh Madison" again.

A Punishment or a Party – Barry is waiting for his wife to get home for some wild sex. Instead, two women and their friends kick in his door, strip him, and tie him up. While waiting to surprise his wife as well, they use him for their own sadistic sex and CBT. When she finally does walk into their trap, Barry’s still not sure if it's a home invasion or a party. It’s a question they’re only too happy to answer – at his cock and ball’s expense.

Genital Persuasion – Harrison is a handsome U.S. spy. His latest assignment is one of Putin’s trusted aids. Luckily, she likes handsome men, especially when they’re naked, bound, and helpless. After months of covert information gathering and submissive CBT, Harrison’s cover is blown. That’s when a new player steps in and ramps the cock and ball torture up into territory that not even Harrison is sure he can handle.

Punishing the Family Jewels – They’re a young married couple looking for kinky sexual adventure. He wants it really rough. She wants to watch and learn. They find the right dominatrix for the job and sign their contract over a cruel flogging and hard sex that leaves him battered. But it doesn’t take long for everyone to learn just how hard he really likes it, or how much better things get once the safeword’s gone and she’s really able to cut loose.

A Dream of Honey-Buttered Balls – They’re the perfect couple, and her sadistic desires are the ideal match for his love of CBT. When headaches start shutting him down, a weekend outdoors in the open air seems to be just the thing. While he’s off fishing, she comes up with an idea that involves hard sex, a grill, utensils, honey-butter and his balls. Little do they know what surprise waits for them at the end of their game.

Cock in the Crosshairs – Dr. Lacy Everette, M.D., Ph.D., satisfies her sadistic desires by punishing some of her patients’ best parts. When she needs a break from the office, she goes hunting at a club where she can track and torture well-hung, naked men in most any way she can imagine by putting their. The question is, do the bucks have just as much fun being used – and is there a better time in store for the one with the trophy rack?

Daring the Serpent to Strike – They're students moonlighting at the zoo a few nights a week. It isn’t long before kinky sex becomes extreme BDSM. When tit torture and CBT become routine, their experiments become more daring. With new thrills that come with risk beyond their control, they know it’s not a matter of if something will go too far, but when. The only question is: which will fall prey most to the peril, his cock and balls or her luscious breasts.

Do Vampires Call it Foreplay? – A flash of nipples is all it takes to lure Carl into being tied helpless and naked across Rochelle’s bed. She thinks that, had he known her sadistic dinner plans, he may not have been so willing. She’s lured men to her bed all her life; becoming a vampire just made it more fun. But she isn’t the only one with an agenda. Carl knows exactly what she is. Not only does he know what’s in store for his better parts, he has plans for her – and her sexy parts – too.

(Editor's Note: This work contains graphic language and sometimes extreme sexual depictions of consensual female dominant and male submissive bondage and sadomasochism. It is intended for mature audiences only and is not suitable f

• Language: English
• Publisher: Darker Pleasures
• Release date: Dec 23, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370218738

Matt Nicholson

Matt Nicholson is a freelance writer and editor for Darker Pleasures Publications, which makes him lucky enough to have written or edited all, or parts of, every story Darker Pleasures has published.Matt is a fan of both hard breast-oriented BDSM as well as hard femdom CBT. His tales, and those of his co-authors, range from R-rated erotica to hard bondage and more extreme BDSM fantasy. Their stories are available individually or in a number of anthologies including the "Tales of Submission" series, the "Beat 'Em or Bite 'Em" series focusing on breasts and BDSM, and the "Bust 'Em or Bite 'Em" series focusing on ball busting and hard CBT.When asked about his work, he says, "My goal is to make your most daring dreams of tit torture or cock and ball torture come to life. I want you to want to be in my character’s shoes, no matter how far from safe and sane the scene might be. Depending on your kink, you might not dare some of it in real life, but the idea still makes your cock stir or your pussy wet. I want to make sure you can’t help but wonder. That’s why we have fiction, to get around real life sensibilities. You read it to live in a world of BDSM you can’t live outside of the covers of a book."So, if you dream of being on the receiving end of such things and think Matt may be onto something, sit back and spread your legs. If your fantasy is to take a pair of tits or balls to the cleaners, turn on your reading lamp and settle in. Oh, and hear would love to hear what you think at mattnicholsonwriter (at) gmail.com.

Book preview

Bust ‘Em or Bite ‘Em Again:

More Erotic Stories of Ball-Busting and Hard CBT

By Matt Nicholson

Smashwords Edition Published by Darker Pleasures

Copyright 2017, 2020 Matt Nicholson

Cover image by georgykotytin/123RF Stock Photos

Other anthologies and books by Matt Nicholson:

Bust ‘Em or Bite ‘Em Again: More Erotic Stories of Ball-Busting and Hard CBT

Bust ‘Em or Bite ‘Em Some More: Even More Erotic Stories of Ball-Busting and CBT

The Ultimate Bust ‘Em or Bite ‘Em: 27 Erotic Stories of Ball-Busting and Hard CBT

Collects all three anthologies, plus three more stories, in one price-saving volume!

The Breast Punishment Primer

Beat ‘Em or Bite ‘Em: Erotic Stories of Breasts and BDSM

Beat ‘Em or Bite ‘Em Some More: More Erotic Stories of Breasts and BDSM

Beat ‘Em or Bite ‘Em Again: Still More Erotic Stories of Breasts and BDSM

Beat ‘Em or Bite ‘Em ‘Til Dawn: Even More Erotic Stories of Breast and BDSM

The Ultimate Beat ‘Em or Bite ‘Em: Dozens of Erotic Stories of Breasts and BDSM

Collects all the Beat ‘Em or Bite ‘Em anthologies in one cost-cutting volume!

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This work of fiction contains graphic language and detailed descriptions of consensual and semi-consensual female dominant male bondage and sexual sadomasochism.  The actions depicted are sometimes extreme with a heavy focus on genital punishment.  This work is written for mature audiences only and is not suitable for persons under eighteen years of age.  All acts depicted are intended as fantasy. No persons associated with the writing or publication of this book bear responsibility for any harm to any persons resulting from attempts to perform these acts in real life. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or they are used fictitiously.  All characters depicted in this work are eighteen years of age or older.  Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.  All rights are reserved, including the right to reproduce or redistribute this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.  For information, contact Darker Pleasures, webmaster at darkerpleasures.com.

Blaming Ashleigh Madison

A Punishment or a Party?

Genital Persuasion

Punishing the Family Jewels

A Dream of Honey-Buttered Balls

A Cock in the Crosshairs

Daring the Serpent to Strike

Do Vampires Call it Foreplay?

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Introduction

Blaming Ashleigh Madison

A Punishment or a Party?

Genital Persuasion

Punishing the Family Jewels

A Dream of Honey-Buttered Balls

A Cock in the Crosshairs

Daring the Serpent to Strike

Do Vampires Call it Foreplay?

INTRODUCTION

Welcome to Method Acting – Part 2. In our first episode (also known as Bust ‘Em or Bite ‘Em: Erotic Stories of Ballbusting and Hard CBT) we learned that, not only am I able to write stories about cock and ball torture, I enjoy writing them almost as much as I do writing tit torture. Still, I never thought I’d be quite as prolific.

Yet, here we are, with the second eight-story volume, just sixteen months later. During that time, I’ve written exactly the same number of CBT tales as I have stories about tormenting breasts. My, how my horizons have changed.

Actually, I – or we – have you, the reader, as much to thank as my newfound enjoyment of the genre. If anything, feedback and reception has been even more enthusiastic than it has been the tit torture. And, as another surprise, that enthusiasm has been as much from women readers as men. It just shows how much I don’t know about who reads my books, I suppose. In any case, I’m only happy to please.

So, what action will you find here? Well, first Blaming Ashleigh Madison takes a look at a female sexual sadist that loves pushing her toy to the limits of pain. When she surprises him with an unscheduled scene, he’s only happy to submit. It’s not until he’s bound naked and helpless, and sweet CBT slowly drives him to tears, that he learns it isn't a BDSM scene at all. Instead, it's a wicked punishment, one that will ensure he never speaks the words Ashleigh Madison again.

After that, you’ll meet Barry, who is waiting for his wife to get home for some wild sex. Instead of his better half, two women and their friends kick in his door, strip him, and tie him up. While waiting to surprise his wife as well, they use him for their own sadistic sex and CBT. When she finally does walk into their trap, Barry’s still not sure if it's A Punishment or a Party. It’s a question they’re only too happy to answer – at his cock and ball’s expense.

In Genital Persuasion, Harrison is a handsome U.S. spy. His latest assignment is one of Vladimir Putin’s trusted aids. Luckily, she likes handsome men, especially when they’re naked, bound, and sexually tormented. After months of covert information gathering and submissive CBT, Harrison’s cover is blown. That’s when a new player steps in and ramps the cock and ball torture up into territory that not even Harrison is sure he can handle.

Next, they’re a young married couple looking for kinky sexual adventure. He wants it really rough. She wants to watch and learn. They find the right dominatrix for the job online and sign their contract over a cruel flogging and hard sex that leaves him battered. But it doesn’t take long for everyone to learn just how hard he really likes it, or how much better things get once the safeword’s gone and she’s really Punishing the Family Jewels.

They’re the perfect couple, and her sadistic desires are the ideal match for his love of CBT. When headaches start shutting him down, a weekend outdoors in the open air seems to be just the thing. While he’s off fishing, she comes up with an idea that involves hard sex, a grill, utensils, and A Dream of Honey-Buttered Balls. Little do they know what surprise waits for them at the end of their game.

You met Dr. Lacy Everette, M.D., Ph.D., in the first anthology and learned she has a Ph.D. in CBT and that she satisfies her sadistic desires by punishing some of her patients’ best parts. When she needs a break from the office, she goes hunting at a club where she can torture well-hung, naked men in most any way she can imagine after putting their Cock in the Crosshairs. The question is, do the bucks being hunted have just as much fun being used – and is there a better time in store for the one with the trophy rack?

In Daring the Serpent to Strike, they're students moonlighting at the zoo a few nights a week. It isn’t long before kinky sex becomes extreme BDSM. When tit torture and CBT become routine, their experiments become more daring. With new thrills that come with risk beyond their control, they know it’s not a matter of if something will go too far, but when. The only question is: which will fall prey most to the peril, his cock and balls or her luscious breasts.

And finally, a flash of nipples is all it takes to lure Carl into being tied helpless and naked across Rochelle’s bed. She thinks that, had he known her sadistic dinner plans, he may not have been so willing. She’s lured men to her bed all her life; becoming a vampire just made it more fun. But she isn’t the only one with an agenda. Carl knows exactly what she is. Not only does he know what’s in store for his better parts, he has plans for her – and her sexy parts – too. Do Vampires Call it Foreplay?

There you have it, my plans for the next eight stories you’ll read. While you’re doing that, I’ll get to work on the next anthology’s worth. This is becoming something of a habit.

Matt Nicholson, 2017

BLAMING ASHLEIGH MADISON

It hasn’t always been this way.

They started out vanilla. They probably would have stayed that way if not for one over-indulgent New Year’s celebration during which they both drank too hard and dared too much. The next morning, they remembered just enough to know their lives had taken a dramatic turn toward the sensually sadomasochistic.

In the four years after her switch flipped, they never talked about what changed. It’s just what they did. She didn’t give him a safe word. They didn’t say she was a top or he was a bottom. She just did what she wanted to do, and she wanted to do some very cruel things. He had no idea why, or what made the change. He just knew he wanted it, too.

Sometimes, he wanted it for himself, for the pain and the pleasure. Sometimes he wanted it just for her, no matter how cruel she was. Most often, it was a combination of both.

Usually, she let him have an orgasm. Showing the power she had over him by still making him cum after she had been so heartless was as much her turn-on as the torture itself. Sometimes his orgasm seemed just an afterthought, something a good wife graced him with before she ended the night with her favorite vibrator after winding herself up at his genitals’ expense.

For a while, he thought it was odd that she had so suddenly chosen to used him more as an outlet for her frustrations than for real sex. He wondered if there may have been someone else that got her off. But he knew she would never be unfaithful. Between sixty hours a week working in the emergency room and the responsibilities of a home and a serious relationship left her little time to squeeze another person into her life. Maybe it was the emergency room itself that changed her.

In any case, they had stopped fucking ages back. If you forced him to admit it, sex had never been better – if sex is what you’d call it.

What they did involved fingers, tits, mouths, genitals, and orgasms – though not in any combination most people would consider normal. If she chose him as her release instead of her battery-operated boyfriend, it most often meant his mouth or fingers. When she was ready for him to cum, he’d get a hand job, sometimes a blowjob. Whatever the way, hid cumming was only because she knew it was a means to get him through what she really enjoyed doing. So, his genitals were her means to an end, her punching bag, as it were, after a hard day at work.

So it was the night before. She’d sat on his face, smothering him for almost thirty minutes until she came. By the time she had finally finished screaming and settled into concentrating on him, his balls already hurt from being crushed and busted. His scrotum was sore from scratches and claw marks. Without the distraction of being horny to slow her down, she spent twenty minutes tearing more cruelly at his sack and slapping his balls while stroking him almost to an orgasm. Then she’d shut him down with a brutal punch that almost ruptured him.

By the time he finally passed the point of no return and splashed semen across the bed, she had ensured there wasn’t a bit of sack left un-mauled. Even then, she sadistically ripped and busted his balls for another couple of minutes while laughing at his post-sex pain. Finally satisfied, she gave him a peck on the cheek and headed off to her vibrator. Bruised, bleeding, and shredded or not, he was asleep before the bedroom door closed.

~~~

He woke the next morning to find his scored skin stuck to the sheet. It had pulled tight and wrinkled around his balls in reaction to the constant stinging pain. On a one to ten scale, he’d give the grating an eight. She wasn’t beyond dealing him a ten, but it was rare and usually involved her teeth. Still, walking would be an adventure for a couple of days. Not that he was griping. Walking without a limp was overrated.

In any case, he wasn’t aware she was watching from the doorway as he sat on the edge of the bed and gingerly peeled his torn skin from the linens. While tugging a slightly more mangled patch from the cotton, he heard her playful-sounding voice.

Poor baby need a nurse? Her voice sounded as pleased as it did teasing.

He looked up from his battered balls and stiff penis. She was ready for work, her make-up and long, brown hair beautiful and perfect. Her scrubs pulled just tight enough across her ivory cleavage to hint at a couple of perky nipples. He raised a brow. "‘Poor baby’ got this way because of a nurse."

By then, she had joined him in looking down at his scored balls. You aren’t griping, are you? Her fingernails dragged slowly over them.

Taking a deep breath, he shook his head.

Good to hear. Have you done anything about that since I left you here last night?

Relishing the echoes of pain left over from the brutal pinch she gave him before letting go, he just shook his head again.

She grabbed his erect cock then yanked it so hard something would have ruptured if he hadn’t rushed to follow it up with his hips. The pretty, cruel sadist was back. There was no sex about it, at least nothing remotely resembling normal. Then follow me, we can’t let that get infected.

As if she gave him a choice. It was follow her, or have his penis broken at the base. She dragged him around the bed to the bathroom, and twisted him around butt-first toward the open toilet. There, straddle the bowl.

He shuffled backward with his legs spread until the insides of his calves brushed the sides of the seat. She grabbed the alcohol from the top of the medicine cabinet and unscrewed the top. His stiff cock jumped when her free hand cupped his balls. This may sting.

She tipped the clear plastic bottle. Cool alcohol flowed down the underside of his penis and over his scrotum. His skin reacted an instant before his brain registered the pain. It pulled into a large-prune-sized ball of thick wrinkles. ‘Sting’ was an understatement.

Fuck, fuck, FUCK! It was all he could do to stand there and let her drown his torn flesh in the burning liquid.

After his sack was thoroughly soaked and burning, she set the bottle down. Her right hand closed on his rigid shaft. Her fingers stopped cupping his balls and started digging.

The pain got worse as her nails clawed the shallow wounds open and ground the alcohol deeper. ‘Fuck’ changed to ‘Oh, God!’ not only from the agony, but from the expert way her thumb pressed up his cock’s underside and her fingers squeezed it. When she raked her fingers up his balls, he realized he couldn’t breathe. A half-minute later, she stepped back, pushed her scrubs-clad ass against the wall, and pulled her cloth-clad breasts back to protect her floral print clothes from his cum. She pumped him hard until he was through, all the while brutalizing his testicles with a nut-crushing, rolling squeeze.

One final, blood-drawing, pinch later, she let both his aching balls and deflating cock drop. Her sadistically gleeful smile would have lit a dark room. Her eyes held that look of triumph that said. No matter how badly I hurt you, I’ll always have the power to make you cum.

After checking to make sure her breasts hadn’t been splattered, she put the alcohol back on the cabinet. I need to keep that in mind. She gave him a quick kiss as she moved toward the door. Running late. Have a good day. See you tonight.

While licking her fingertips, she darted away. He was still catching his breath when the front door closed behind her.

~~~

The day was interesting, to say the least. His mangled balls made it too uncomfortable to sit still long, so he made excuses to miss as many meetings as he could and took much more leisurely strolls to the ones he couldn’t. He made at least a half dozen bathroom trips solely for the purpose of peeling his underwear off his skin and letting his badly scratched scrotum breathe.

Once he got home, he went underwear-free and changed into loose shorts. Though his testicles had stopped aching, his sack was so tender even the breeze from the ceiling fan made it draw up tight, nestling his balls snugly beneath his cock.

The constant stinging had kept him on the edge of horny all day. She always gave him several days to heal before demanding more play time, so unless he took care of it himself, he’d go to bed horny.

Free from the confines of Fruit-of-the-Looms and slacks, his penis was half-erect, a fact his wife noticed before she had even draped her scrubs top over the couch. Not even bothering to give him her usual kiss hello, she headed to the bedroom carrying a Walgreen’s prescription sack. She took only a second to look pointedly at his crotch on the way.

Get naked and meet me at the kitchen table. I’ve got a cream that should fix you up.

She was gone before seeing the surprised look in his eyes. She had never worried much about him once her fun was out of the way. Aftercare was always his problem unless it was another way of torturing him.

Still, he dropped his shorts and t-shirt on the way to the dining room. Once there, he swung one of the copper dining chairs around from the round, glass table and sat. She came in a couple minutes later. Instead of the naked surprise he’d hoped for, she wore an everyday pair of khaki shorts and a sleeveless white t-shirt. The only thing that was out of the ordinary were the white, latex gloves.

Why the gloves? he asked, curious. Blood had never bothered her before. Scratching and biting, a hundred or so needles, and a couple dozen fishhooks had left him a bloody mess on a couple of memorable occasions.

I’m not supposed to get the cream on my hands.

He raised a brow. Then I can do it and save you the trouble.

You’re not supposed to get it on your hands either. Besides… She grinned and pulled a roll of black Velcro straps from the Walgreen’s bag. I have plans.

Knowing now it was still all about the torment, he slid forward in the chair until his tight balls stuck past the edge. He wanted to make sure she could get to them with her knee or fist or whatever. She pushed his left wrist down onto the chair’s cold metal arm and wrapped the Velcro around it several times until it was almost painfully tight. He watched her eyes while she did the same to his other wrist and then to each ankle. She looked even more mischievously than usual, which suggested she had plans for him that would probably make his next day at work even harder. The look made him even more excited.

When she was through, she stood and looked down her nose at him. Her voice took on a deeper, no nonsense, tone. He couldn’t help but smile. Yes, he was about to take a punishing.

Try to get loose.

He pulled first on his wrists and then on his ankles. She had wrapped the straps several times. There wasn’t the slightest crackle. He twisted them and pulled harder, but managed only to hurt himself in trying. He wasn’t going anywhere.

She grabbed the prescription bag. Good. Now open up. She shoved a black ball gag at his mouth.

After pressing the ball deep and tightening the back strap what felt like a notch or two harder than usual, she pulled a cream tube from the bag. After twisting the top off, she squeezed what he assumed was an antiseptic onto her fingertip, he settled in and slid from one side of the padded chair to the other, testing to see how much wiggle room he had if she got too enthusiastic with whatever sadistic plan had come to her twisted mind. When she started rubbing the cool cream on his tender skin, a drop of pre-cum split his erect penis’ tip.

His scrotum started getting warm, then warmer. His cock grew past hard to throbbing, reacting to the swelling heat and anticipation. It was a new, perfect, painful feeling. And then it wasn’t. As the stinging grew beyond tolerable, he realized she’d already covered most of his scrotum and had begun massaging the cream in. He looked in growing desperation back at the tube. It wasn’t antiseptic. It was capsaicin, and it was too late. The pain crossed a line she had never crossed before. It literally felt like his sack was on fire, and he gaped at it to make sure it wasn’t. The pain leapt well past ten.

Even if she hadn’t just coated his skin in creamed fire, the scratching massage on his chafed skin would have hurt more than usual. Adding capsaicin alone would have made it excruciating. The combination of pepper cream ground into the open scrapes was real torture. And, unlike everything else she’d done to him in the past, this was agony she couldn’t control and couldn’t give him a break from, had she chosen to.

He wanted to scream, Get it off! but couldn’t. Even if he could have, he wouldn’t. The two times he had stopped her in the past had taught him how bad that idea was. She had stopped both times, immediately. The first time she’d just walked away from sex for almost a month. The second had been for more than two. She’d satisfied herself with her fingers and battery-operated pleasure as if it simply didn’t matter.

So, agony or not, he wasn’t about to risk the possibility she would just never do him again. Besides, even if he was willing to give it up, the best he could do was an unintelligible staccato burst of Oh God!s around the ball as tears started streaming down his cheeks.

Her eyes lit with a wicked delight he