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Post Reply: How I Met My Girlfriend

<blockquote><div class="quotetitle">Quote from <a class="profile-link highlight-admin" href="https://mybbfe.com/forum-9/forumprofile/288/">Kimberly</a> on January 29, 2026, 7:52 am</div><div class="wp-block-template-part">
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<h2 class="wp-block-post-title"><a href="https://femsupstories.wordpress.com/2025/09/15/how-i-met-my-girlfriend/" target="_self">How I Met My Girlfriend</a></h2>
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Published on <a href="https://femsupstories.wordpress.com/2025/09/15/how-i-met-my-girlfriend/"><time datetime="2025-09-15T21:25:48+02:00">2025-09-15</time></a>

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This story has been rated as hard.
I used to think of myself as a pretty normal 30-year-old. Maybe a bit on the lucky side of life, because I have a good, secure job, and I inherited a nice house in a good, quiet part of town. This house is where this story began.
The house is big enough that it has been split into two completely independent units, the first floor and the second floor have separate entrances, their own bathrooms, etc. They only share the driveway and the garden. This was done recently, and my uncle never got around to actually renting the place out before he passed away and left it to me. So I decided to move there and make some money by renting out the first floor (I prefer the second floor because it has a great balcony).
To make sure everything was done right, I let an agency handle everything. They ended up giving the contract to Jennifer, a white, 28 years old, sexy cutie. She is about average height and has very long, straight dark-brown hair, big green eyes, a confident smile, firm C-cup boobs, a slim waist, curvy hips with a very wide pelvis, thick thighs, and an unbelievably massive round ass. When she came to introduce herself, she wore black high heels, tight dark denim jeans that really showed off her enormous booty, and a tight black top.
Jennifer was polite and friendly, but there was something about her smile. I couldn’t shake the feeling that it’s the smile of a sadist, something about it made me feel like she’s the kind of girl that would laugh at a man in pain. Which was of interest to me because I’m the kind of pervert who is into these things. I have a massive female domination fetish, especially ballbusting. But I thought that I’m just imagining things because she is hot so I would want her to be a bit of a sexy sadist. You know, the kind of girls men like me fantasize about.
The first few days, nothing special happened. Jennifer moved in without my help, she had a company handle everything. We ran into each other a few times every day since we both worked partially from home. She is a feminist journalist, so she can write her columns and analysis from the comfort of her bed. When she had settled in, Jennifer invited me for a cup of coffee, and it was really nice. I was relieved to have found a good housemate that was easy to get along with.
After a couple of weeks, on a warm Friday evening, Jennifer had a couple of female friends over. It was already dark, and I was lying out on the balcony, reading a book. Then Jennifer and her friends went outside into the garden because one of them smoked. The balcony is so that from their point of view they couldn’t see me lying up there.
I decided to go inside because their chatter and laughter would only distract me, and because I didn’t want to eavesdrop on them. But before I could get up, I heard this: One of them said, “I ran into Eric the other day, he looks completely different now. But he still flinched when I mentioned your name,” and they all giggled about that. Jennifer responded, “Oh god, Eric, I kicked his eggs so much, it’s a miracle he is still an intact male.” “As far as we know,” another one added, and they shared a giggle about the idea of Eric’s castration. “Yeah, you were a real nutcracker, the boys were so scared,” one of them said. “I just really enjoy scrambling their eggs,” Jennifer laughed.
Lying on the balcony, I suddenly got turned on massively. The sexy cutie I share a house with, that I felt looked a bit like she had a sadistic smile, was actually a sadistic ballbuster. Exactly my fetish. I knew that I shouldn’t listen to them, but now I really wanted to.
“Remember when you ruptured Thomas’ balls?” one asked. “Yeah, both of them,” Jennifer giggled, “what a loser.” “I love that he was the one who got into trouble afterward,” another added. “I crushed so many eggs, it was so much fun, I honestly miss it,” Jennifer told her friends. “Yeah,” one of them agreed, “wouldn’t it be great if you could just walk up to guys and knee them in the nuts like in high school?” They all shared that sentiment. I was as hard as I could be. Their conversation then slowly drifted to other memories from school, and I made my way inside to masturbate.
The way I live out my fetish is a bit risky, but I like to ask girls to kick me in the nuts for money. Not just randomly and never close to home. But there are a few clubs on the other side of town where I will always find drunk girls willing to bust my balls. Most of them think it’s hilarious anyway, and when they are in a group, there’s usually at least one who actually does it. Sometimes they all do, which is exciting, but can also leave me on the floor for a long time afterward. Usually I tell them some lie, like that I’m doing this on a dare, to make them comfortable.
Normally, I would never approach somebody that I know in real life about busting my balls. But now I was really tempted to invite Jennifer to go after my manhood. They way she laughed about “scrambling eggs” and even rupturing a guy’s balls just made her sound like such an enthusiastic ballbusting sadist.
The next couple of weeks, I went back and forth on whether I should do it. I tried to act normally with her, which was important, given that we saw each other multiple times a day, usually. Then we kind of celebrated her first month in the house by me inviting her for a drink in the evening. Jennifer wore black high-heeled sandals, a short, pleated white skirt, and comfortable light-blue shirt. We sat down and talked, when I saw an opening for my perversion.
My sexy housemate told me about an article she was working on, about feminist sexual fetishes. So I put on my best poker face and told her that I read about a fetish called ballbusting that sounded very feminist to me. She replied, “Oh, I know about ballbusting, I’d love to actually meet a guy who is into it.” “So you can interview him?” I asked. “No,” she replied with what I now knew really was a sadistic smile, “so I can crush his eggs. I’d love to crush some eggs.”
I nervously stared at her, a bit speechless about her bluntness, while I got rock-hard under the table. “What? Does that make you nervous?” she asked me with a smirk, “to know a girl who loves crushing your fragile male eggs?” She was so confident and completely shameless about it, it was such a turn-on. I had to take this opportunity, I’d never meet another woman like her. So I told her about my fetish. Jennifer got really excited and immediately suggested that we do it right here and now. I loved how much she was into it, so I quickly agreed.
We got up, there was enough space in my open kitchen to do this. “Spread your legs,” she eagerly told me, and I did. I also put my hands behind my back. Jennifer got up close and grabbed me by the shoulders. Jennifer looked at me with a big sadistic smile, pulled herself in by my shoulders and kneed me in the nuts hard.
Intense pain exploded into my lower body and made me groan. Giggling, Jennifer did not hesitate and rammed her knee into my balls again with force. She was brutal, it hurt so much. I wanted to tell her to take it easy, but she just kneed me a third time, even harder. Everything went black for a moment as the crippling pain overwhelmed me. I collapsed to the floor with a scream, then curled up into the fetal position, moaning and holding my aching balls. Jennifer stood there, looking down at me, laughing with sadistic joy, and telling me how weak I was.
“Can’t take a hit from a girl? What kind of pathetic loser are you? Come on, get up and take it like a man,” she teased me. At this point, I had been paying girls to bust my balls for about ten years. Over the years, I must have been at least 150 of them who kicked me in the nuts. But Jennifer definitely was the most brutal ballbuster to ever go after my manhood. And an obvious sadist. Most girls start to worry a little about you once they have floored you, but not Jennifer, to her, it was just a reason to humiliate me. She wasn’t worried, she just wanted to hurt me worse. This was the hottest thing that ever happened to me, a truly sadistic ballbuster.
She kept telling me how pathetic and weak I was until I finally struggled back to my feet. I told her that these were the hardest knees of my life, and she laughed and told me to prepare for the hardest kick of my life. I wanted to tell her to take it easy, but I was too proud and too aroused. So I just got into position and exposed my aching manhood to her.
“This reminds me of Thomas,” Jennifer told me, “I had promised him a blowjob if he let me kick his nuts as much as I liked. The idiot agreed, and I ended up rupturing both his eggs,” she laughed with obvious sadistic joy. “Unfortunately, they were repaired in surgery, but knowing I nearly castrated a man feels amazing” Then she swiftly kicked me in the nuts with full force. Agony exploded. Eveything went dark, there was nothing but pain. The next thing I remember was curling up on the floor, screaming, suffering greatly. Jennifer was right, this was easily the most painful kick of my life.
Again, I heard her laughing and mocking me, telling me how pathetic and weak I was. The pain had overwhelmed me, but l still felt that this was the hottest thing to ever happen to me. Jennifer just displayed such genuine sadistic joy at my suffering.
The sexy sadist kneeled down in front of me and told me to move my hands away from my balls. I told her that I needed a little break, but she simply replied, “No, you need your eggs cracked.” Then she started to force her hands past mine. When I told her to stop, she ignored me. My hands were slowed down and weakened by the pain more than I had expected, so she managed to reach inside my pants. Without shame or hesitation, she grabbed my naked aching testicles, while I firmly told her not to do it. Then she started to squeeze them.
Intense pulling pain shot up into my abdomen and quickly got worse. I screamed for Jennifer to stop, but she just laughed and squeezed harder. It felt like she was pulling my intestines out through my ballsack. Her grip on my balls was tight, I couldn’t free them, I tried so hard, but I was slow and weak, suffering so much, unable to defend my manhood. Jennifer just gleefully laughed and continue to crush my sensitive organs.
I was in crippling agony and the pain only kept increasing. When I yelled at her to stop, telling her that I’m not playing, that I can’t take this, she just laughed, “Silly male, that only makes it more fun.” Brutally, without mercy and without my consent, she continued to squeeze my defenseless testicles hard.
This was assault. Abuse. I got overwhelmed by agony and kept losing vision in both eyes. I could no longer speak, only howl. When I heard myself, I was shocked, it sounded nothing like me, my voice was so shrill, so incredibly high-pitched. Jennifer laughed and surely mocked me, but I understood little of what she said, the pain was too bad. I do remember her mocking me like, “Oh, thank you for singing soprano for me, that is so sweet of you, I’m glad we are both having fun.”
Jennifer finally released my balls, but the pain didn’t stop, my system was completely overloaded, it just kept hurting horribly. I was screaming and crying, curled up into the fetal position, suffering agony. My sexy abuser lay down next to me, laughing hard, “This is the best thing I’ve done since I ruptured those eggs a long time ago. I’m so glad you are a filthy pervert.”
Very slowly, the pain subsided. But I was also emotionally overwhelmed. Jennifer had gone past my limits, against my will, she had really hurt me without my consent. This was genuine abuse. But she was still giggling and telling me how red and swollen my testicles were. She was a monster, and she was the hottest girl I ever met.
Then Jennifer got close, really close. I was scared she would hurt me, but instead she kissed me and started to stroke my dick. To my surprise, I instantly got hard. So I gave in and kissed her back. We ended up fucking on the floor. The fact that I got to squeeze her massive ass was amazing, her enormous cheeks feel even bigger than they look, and they look gigantic. Then we went to my bedroom. Jennifer mocked my limping a lot, but that didn’t stop us from doing it on my bed. I felt so conflicted, torn between the need to defend and protect myself, and my intense arousal and attraction to her. Afterward, we cuddled and eventually fell asleep.
The next morning, I woke up alone in bed. I assumed that Jennifer had left, but when I slowly limped out, I found her in the kitchen, cooking. She again mocked my limping, then told me that I woke up just at the right time, she was about to come and get me. “I’m making omelets for breakfast. Seemed fitting,” she giggled, “you know, because you can’t make and omelet…” “…without breaking a few eggs,” I finished the joke to her satisfaction.
She stood there in the kitchen, only wearing her shirt and a black thong. With her back turned to me, I could see that perfect mountain of an ass in all its glory. Staring at it somehow made me feel better. “You are allowed to touch it, you know,” Jennifer, who had noticed, giggled. I did not hesitate and got closer to give her cheeks a good squeeze, while she finished cooking. Then we sat down and had a nice breakfast. Jennifer really made some good omelets.
Now everything was normal, Jennifer was funny and friendly, cute and sweet. And flirty. When she left to start her workday, she said goodbye with a kiss. This clearly wasn’t just a one-night stand to her. I still had no idea how to feel. She had gone too far and really abused me, there could be no doubt about that. And if she did it once, she almost certainly would do it again. But every man with a serious ballbusting fetish dreams of a girl like her, even if that is not a particularly healthy or safe dream.
We didn’t see each other again until we happened to meet in the driveway in the evening. Jennifer wore dark-green sandals, very short denim hotpants that really showed off her incredible ass, and a dark-green tank top. “You’re still limping, how pathetic are your eggs?” she immediately mocked me. I was about to tell her that she really hurt me, when she suddenly pointed above my right shoulder and yelled, “Watch out!” Like an idiot, I fell for the oldest trick in the book, so I ducked and turned my head. Jennifer used the distraction to kick me in my still aching balls really hard.
The pain that exploded into my lower body took me by surprise and made my legs give in. I fell down on all fours with a scream, and Jennifer sadistically laughed at me. I was shocked, this was out in the open, anybody could see us. The neighbors, strangers, anybody. Jennifer didn’t care, she shamelessly enjoyed my pain and continued to mock how pathetic I was.
I told her that we should go inside, and thankfully she agreed, she even helped me up but continued to tease me about my pain. We went into my kitchen, and she confidently told me to get into position. Instead, I told her that I’m still in too much pain from yesterday and needed time to recover. Jennifer calmly but firmly replied, “If you keep talking back like that, I’m going to cut your eggs off and wear them as earrings. Now spread your legs.” I felt so torn. She was clearly abusive, but it was the really hot kind of abuse, the one that men with a female domination fetish fantasize about, a hot sadist who doesn’t respect my limits.
So I gave in and spread my legs. “Good boy,” Jennifer told me and gently stroked my face. Then she firmly grabbed me by the shoulders. I begged her not to go too hard. She looked at me, smiled, and said, “Just for that I’m going to knee you in the nuts with full force now.” And then she did, she rammed her knee into my aching and still swollen testicles with everything she had, violently crushing them. Agony exploded into my entire body, and I collapsed to the floor screaming. This was more than I could handle, but Jennifer just laughed with sadistic joy.
When I had calmed down a little, she told me to turn on my stomach. I curled up tightly, holding my balls, and told her that I can’t take anymore. Jennifer went into the kitchen and got the biggest, sharpest knife I owned. “I’m going to wear your eggs as earrings and flush your dick down the toilette. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life as a eunuch?” She was so confident and calm, I was terrified that she would actually do it. Yesterday had shown me how hard it was to defend my manhood once I was in a lot of pain, so this scared me into submission, and I turned on my stomach.
Jennifer took off my shorts and my boxers and made me spread my legs. Then she grabbed my swollen balls and pulled them away from my body. She took off her sandals and stepped on my defenseless sack with her bare right foot. When she put weight on it, my balls slipped out under her foot, but it still hurt a lot. “Slippery eggs,” Jennifer giggled, grabbed them, and pulled them back into position.
Again, she put her bare right foot on my balls, but this time she was more careful. First, she placed the edge of her foot between my body and the testicles and used it to cut off their movement. Then she put weight on her foot, crushing my fragile organs under her soft sole. It hurt like hell. I started to scream in a high pitch, making her laugh.
“I can feel your eggs getting flatter and flatter,” I remember her giggling as crippling pain overwhelmed me. Soon I was screaming at the top of my lungs, I was in agony. But worse, I was terrified of castration, it felt like my balls were about to pop. Jennifer laughed that she had no idea how much weight my balls could handle, but that there was only one way to find out. I couldn’t even plead with her, my testicles hurt so horribly that all I could do was howl like a wild animal that’s being slaughtered.
Eventually, I must have passed out from the intense pain. I remember catastrophic agony and the feeling of immanent castration. But then everything went dark and the next thing I remember is Jennifer giving me a handjob. I was in so much pain that I couldn’t even feel my dick, but surprisingly it was actually fully erect.
We ended up fucking on the floor again. The numbing pain made me last much longer than usual, Jennifer came twice just from riding my dick before I regained enough feeling in my cock to achieve orgasm. Again, we ended up cuddling in my bed and sleeping together. Again, I was terribly conflicted and unsure how to feel. So much of this was absolutely awesome, but there was no denying that what she did to me was clearly abuse, that I was the victim of brutal assault.
In the morning, Jennifer made breakfast again, pancakes this time. They tasted great, and it was a really nice breakfast that we shared. She mocked my intense pain, and it greatly entertained her to see how swollen my testicles still were. But otherwise, she was all sweet and cute. We said goodbye with a long, intense kiss. I had no idea what this was or how to feel, but this certainly wasn’t how simple friends with benefits would say goodbye.
I spent most of the day in bed, getting some work done, putting my swollen balls on ice. Painkillers helped as well. The time passed surprisingly quickly, but I kept having flashbacks to the last two evenings, when Jennifer so cruelly hurt me more than I could handle. I was really afraid of her, she seemed capable of anything. But at the same time, I was also immensely attracted to her. I can only repeat myself, but for guys with a really intense ballbusting fetish she is a literal dream come true. A shockingly big part of me wants a hot babe to abuse me like this.
Still, I decided to avoid her for the rest of the day, to give my balls a chance to recover and my mind time to process everything. The reasonable part of my brain kept reminding me that this abuse had to stop. If I talked to my friends about it, nobody would understand. They would tell me to go to the cops, and maybe I should. Jennifer had assaulted me. Twice. And threatened me with a knife. This was textbook abuse.
In the evening, Jennifer sent me several pictures of shoes and asked me which pair she should put on to kick me in the balls. The voice of reason in my head screamed at me to just block her. My front door was locked, I was safe, and I should go to the police first thing tomorrow morning. Otherwise, she would never stop. Instead, I picked the slutty black sandals with the really high heels and texted her back.
A few minutes later, Jennifer unlocked the front door. She must have taken a spare key at some point without my permission. The sexy sadist wore the slutty high-heeled sandals, a tiny pleated black skirt so short that it covered barely half her fat ass, and a very revealing red crop top. This was not an outfit you’d leave the house in, this was just to turn a man on.
Jennifer told me to get naked, and I obeyed. I was still in pain, but I powered through it. She came close and inspected my testicles, mocking how swollen they still were. When I told her that I was in serious pain, it clearly made her happy. In my head, the alarm bells were ringing. What was I doing? She was an abuser, a monster. I should try to kick her out or call the cops. At least, I should confront her about the spare key and demand that she give it back. Instead, I obeyed her when she told me to get on my knees and spread my legs.
“I’m going to kick your swollen eggs now,” she told me with a big sadistic grin, “repeatedly.” So she did, slamming her foot into my aching testicles. It really hurt, making my pain much worse and making her happy. Then she kicked me again, harder than before. Crippling pain shot into my entire body, and I let out a scream. But Jennifer just kicked me in the balls once more, making me scream even louder. I was breathing irregularly, barely able to stay on my knees, it hurt like hell. Jennifer finally gave me a moment, she looked down at me giggling and then mocked my suffering. “You boys and your pathetic eggs, so silly, so fragile,” she grinned.
Soon she told me to get into position again. Without even thinking, I present my swollen testicles to her. She immediately kicked them twice, really hard, making me howl and fall over in terrible pain. My entire body hurt, I was in agony. Jennifer laughed out loud, telling me that my weakness was unbelievable.
After a couple of minutes, she helped me back up on my knees so that she could hurt me even more. I did not resist, I didn’t even beg her to stop, I simply got on my knees and spread my legs. My entire body was trembling with pain, I could barely keep it together. But it was like Jennifer was torturing reason and sanity out of my mind. The voice in my head that told me to stop this, to protect myself, kept getting ever quieter. It was almost gone. While my desire to obey Jennifer, to submit to her, was so strong. Was this even really abuse? It almost felt like doing this was her right.
Without hesitation, Jennifer kicked me in the balls again. I could barely take the hit, the pain was mind-bending. She laughed about my suffering, then kicked me even harder. Grinding my teeth, I desperately tried to stay on my knees, holding on against the crippling agony. “Well done, taking all those kicks,” Jennifer grinned, “here is your reward.” Then she kicked me in the balls with full force. Catastrophic pain completely overwhelmed me. I just remember flashes of horrific agony. Eventually I was curled up on the floor, holding my seriously swollen testicles, suffering horribly. I had stopped screaming but was still crying hard, I definitely had never been hurt worse than this. Above me, I could hear Jennifer laugh.
When I had calmed down a little, Jennifer kneeled down in front of me. She gently stroked my face, telling me that she really liked the new color of my sack. It had turned entirely black and blue from her brutal kicks. “Your eggs are swollen so big, almost like they want to pop,” she giggled.
Jennifer leaned down and gave me a kiss, then continued to gently stroke me. The voice of reason in my head was almost gone, I felt so happy about having this cruel sadist in my life. She felt happy too and explained to me that we were together now. I almost cried with joy as I suddenly realized how hard I had fallen for her. These last three days were really intense, I definitely needed time to process everything, to let my mind catch up with my heart, but there was no doubt about my feelings.
With her big sadistic grin, Jennifer told me that there is only one fitting way to mark and to celebrate our new relationship, “I’m going to rupture your eggs.” I immediately knew that she was serious and almost had a panic attack. The pain made it difficult for me to speak and move, but as best I could, I desperately begged her not to do it. This was too much, too extreme, too dangerous. I pleaded with her, told her to torture me, to abuse me every day, but please don’t castrate me.
“I’m not going to castrate you, silly,” Jennifer laughed and grabbed my bruised and swollen testicles, one in each hand, “Remember, I’m somewhat of an expert in rupturing your pathetic male organs.” I was in far too much pain to defend myself, all I could do was beg. But she just sadistically giggled and started to squeeze my hurt organs using her fingernails, digging them into my fragile testicles. Catastrophic pain exploded into my abdomen, and there it mixed with a sudden, visceral nausea. The suffering radiated into my entire body. I screamed in an unbelievably high pitch, making Jennifer laugh. It hurt so much I couldn’t even speak, only howl. Then I had a severe coughing fit that felt like my lungs were coming up.
Without mercy or hesitation, my sadistic abuser continued to brutally crush my tortured testicles. I was in more pain than I could possibly take, howling at the top of my lungs. I had lost vision in both eyes, the intense nausea felt like I wanted to vomit up my inner organs, and I had another heavy coughing fit. My body was out of my control, it just suffered as much as it could suffer. Through all of it, I could hear Jennifer laughing with the greatest joy. She clearly was having the time of her life.
Her cruel attack had completely overwhelmed me, I felt like I was in hell or worse. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined that suffering like this was even possible. Jennifer dug her fingernails deeper and deeper into my testicles, at this point the organs were surely dying. I barely held on to consciousness, my entire existence had become the worst possible agony, unnaturally strong nausea, and crippling coughing fits.
Jennifer violently crushed my testicles in her hands, taking them far beyond anything they could take. As the horribly deformed organs lost the fight for their lives, I felt a flash of burning agony as I suddenly and forcefully threw up. With my ruptured testicles in her hands, Jennifer was laughing hysterically as everything went dark. I remember mind-breaking suffering but nothing else.
Then I woke up in the hospital, already after the surgery. Jennifer must have called me an ambulance. The nurses told me that I didn’t need to worry, the surgeon repaired my testicles, and I would make a full recovery. What a relief. She had not castrated me.
The official version of events that Jennifer had told them was that I did this to myself, self-busting gone wrong. I learned this when I got visited by a psychiatrist. He told me that they couldn’t force me to do anything, but that he strongly recommended therapy. I pretended to be reasonable and to accept his suggestion. Satisfied, he gave me a list of therapists and left me be.
Then it was visiting hour. The door opened, and in came Jennifer. I was so, so happy to see her. There was no more doubt, no more conflict, I was no longer torn. My mind was clear. Now I knew that this was right, I knew this was good, and I knew that I was lucky to have such an amazing girlfriend.
Happy End

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