Once again a new willing slave finds himself in a cold, dark dungeon — this time not only with me, but with the Goddess Jewels. Both of us are ready, and both of us intend to inflict some rather agonising ball busting. I wonder if he truly understands what is about to happen to him.

Dressed in tight latex and shiny PVC, our glorious high heels clicking against the stone floor, we call our pain slut in for the evening’s entertainment. There is no delay. We begin at once by humiliating his rather small cock, making it clear that something so insignificant deserves nothing more than to be thoroughly busted.

The reality of his situation sinks in quickly. The moment he begins begging for his balls to be punished, the lightest touch of our fingers makes his cock twitch and grow. That is all the invitation Goddess Jewels needs. She drives her knee hard into his balls, making him to recoil with a sharp cry. We take it in turns after that — one knee strike after another — and when the naughty slave tries to anticipate the blows, he quickly learns how fruitless the effort is.

The intensity only rises. Slaps, fists, and the hard tops of our boots rain down as we make him to keep his legs open and stand willingly, accepting every impact we decide he deserves. The more his cock hardens, the more determined we become. He is clearly enjoying the punishment far too much, and that simply cannot be allowed.

We want him broken. We want him on his knees, begging for it to stop.

I strike his balls harder still, watching him begin to crumble. He collapses onto his back, desperately seeking relief against the cold dungeon floor — only to discover there is none. Our high heels find him immediately, the soles pressing down, crushing his balls beneath our weight.

Finally the punishment starts to take proper effect. That tiny, pathetic cock shrinks in defeat, as though it has at last understood the truth: it deserves nothing more than to be beaten, crushed, and thoroughly humiliated.