To me, balls are just two dangling punching bags, waiting for me to drive my full fist into. Hanging in between my slave's legs, I feel as though they are just aching for the pain I wish to drive into them, eager for my to make them swell and bruise. I love playing mind games with this ballbusting slave in particular, the sounds of his whimpers and squirms from the anticipation of it all fueling my sadistic fire within. I draw my fist back and forth in a teasing motion, stopping inches away from his worthless sack, faking a strike just to see him jump in his seat. Such amusement it brings m... Show more