Ball Busters!

Ball Busters! - Chapter 2: A Mother's Guide to Emasculation

Hilda Knutson, the Knutson triplets' tall and chesty platinum blonde mom, was at 38 years old entering the prime of her MILF years. Every so often, the sisters would look at their mom in admiration and gratitude for her genes, knowing someday they could still look as hot as she did at her age.

That evening, after Hilda came home from a late night BDSM session with one of her slaves, she changed into her usual all-black athleisure casual wear and sat down with her three daughters at the family dining table. She listened to them patiently as they told her all about these funny new feelings stirring in their bodies, caused by reminiscing about their childhood "Busting Game" and wondering what it might feel like to play it again, now, as young adults.

It got Hilda reminiscing herself, remembering the delight she felt over her girls' stories of schoolyard antics sending all those boys crying home to their mommas!

She'd known for a long time that someday, her girls would face their current dilemma, and she felt she owed them guidance, as their compulsion surely must be hereditary.

Hilda had always believed every young girl had at least a little touch of what her girls were feeling, anyway. As the superior sex, women were only brainwashed by society out of their natural role in dominating men like the sniveling worthless worms they were!

Amusingly, hearing her daughters try to articulate their need to punish male testicles felt a bit like their family discussions so many years earlier about "The Birds and the Bees," at the very same dining table.

"It just, like, gets my toes all tingly when I see a cute boy!" said Norah. "But, I mean I guess I kinda always felt that way. It's just like, now, I also wanna, umm, jam my toes halfway into his pelvis!!"

"Yeah," said Bridgette. "And when I'm at the gym? Laying into my punching bag? I start imagining, like, what if it were some guy's ball-bag? And what if more than punching it, I just wanted to kick the fuckin' shit out of it? And then before y'know it, I've spent an hour practicing my kickboxing, thinking about what my feet could do to some guy's nutsack...WHAM!!!"

"So that's it, Mommy," said Sophie. "We all realized we're still obsessed with kicking boys in the balls. But not just for fun, like when we were children. Now, it's almost a..."

Sophie blushed. Her mother patiently folded her arms under her heavy breasts and leaned forward, waiting to hear the brightest of her three girls admit her heart's desire.

"...Almost a need, Mommy!" she squeaked.

Sophie blushed harder. Hilda nodded. Her daughters didn't need to say any more than that. They were all staring at her so intently now, so desperate for her motherly advice.

This wasn't the kind of thing every mother talked to her daughters about. But as Hilda Knutson proudly knew, they weren't just any average family!

Tonight, she'd explain how to responsibly indulge those special, uniquely feminine urges they were feeling, to break a man's eggs.

But how to begin?

"Well, darlings, sometimes when a girl meets a boy, and that girl loves kicking boys in the balls very much...?"

No, no, no, thought Hilda.

"I suppose you get it from me, darlings," she sighed. "This need to dominate men. As you know, men actually pay Mommy to do that. I couldn't tell you when you were younger, only because I wasn't sure you'd understand. But now I think you're old enough to know, also, that really it's for my pleasure more than theirs. And I've known that since I was about your age...Known that I love to hurt men! That their pain is my pleasure!!"