… and stretch, two, three, four …

In a couple of my posts I’ve mentioned that I like to wear ball stretchers, and ever since I seemed to intrigue so many of you, Dear Readers, back in The price I’ve paid for sex and I’m a kinky little thing … apparently, I’ve felt I ought to fill in some of the gaps about my kinks and fetishes. So I’m going to start with ball stretching.

Every man can tell you what a kick in the balls feels like. The pain. The nausea. The lingering ache. The unmitigated sense of injustice. Yet for some people, CBT also provides a significant degree of sexual arousal. But not me. Yes, Dear Reader, that may seem contradictory, but despite owning (and enjoying) quite a few CBT toys, I don’t enjoy the torture, and certainly not the crippling sensation that can result from even the slightest and most innocent of teaticular tweaks.

So why do I like having my genitals trussed up, stretched and apparently abused? Well much of this I tried to explain in Chased, and the sensation of being held in my CB6000s pretty much goes for all my other cock and ball toys. For me it’s often about being almost constantly aware of my sex. It makes me feel … sexy? … I’m not sure about that as such, but they certainly make me feel sexual.

Maybe it’s best if I told you how I came to hang weights round my nuts.

My first CBT toy was more just a toy than anything remotely designed for torture. It was a cock ring with a leather strap attached, much like an Arab Strap.

It was a random purchase on a random visit to a random sex shop and was bought partly out of boredom. I found I liked how it felt, pulling my balls forward a little, and making my cock stand out when flaccid. But it was little more than jewellery and I had no need for help maintaining erections.

I started paying more attention to such items whenever I went to sex shops and next acquired a double strap fastened with press studs …

… which in turn was followed by a similar item with an additional ball splitting strap.

It may be significant that this device had a small D-ring attached to the strap that went between my nads and this could have had weights attached to it. This would have pulled on cock and balls equally (due to the location of the straps) so couldn’t really qualify as a ball stretcher, and in reality it was better suited to having something like a dog leash or rope threaded through the D-ring: thus a handcuffed wearer could either be led around by the genitals or trussed to something like a bedpost. (Which were occasional and fun games and there may be more of that when I tell you about Geri, my number 6.)

As we were perusing entry level CBT straps and the like, one thing that kept catching my eye was a ball stretching parachute.

They reminded me of a photoset I’d seen in a copy of Playgirl magazine. (I had no specific gay interest in male porn, though I was neither bothered about looking at pictures of other men’s cocks, nor indeed of masturbating over them but, more importantly, I was curious about the images, stories and letters that women were wanking over.) One particular male model fascinated me: as I remember he was olive skinned, moody looking and lightly built but muscular. None of this interested me. What I found utterly compelling was his bollocks. It wasn’t that I wanted to play with them, as I suspect the majority of his admirers would. I just wanted them. I was jealous of the way they hung low. His distended sack must have swung 3 or more inches below his body. I wanted that dangle and wished my scrotum was so slack.

Back then I hadn’t heard of ball stretching, but now, back in the sex shop, looking at a parachute, I realised this was something I might be interested in and might give me the pendulous plumbs with which the Playgirl model had fascinated me.

Admittedly there was a little apprehension on my part – I had occasionally experienced pain as a result of a misplaced strap, and the idea of hanging weights from by delicate baubles did have ominous potential. But I knew I liked the skin of my ball sack to be tugged on, so I was prepared to give it a try.

Sadly the parachute wasn’t for me as my nuts hung quite close to my body and I struggled to fasten the press studs above my balls. Add to that, the principal wasn’t ideal: I wanted to wear something all day and, at best, this would mean chains and weights hanging down inside a trouser leg.

Cue some research, and my next stretchers were the neoprene tube type.

These appeared to have two main advantages: firstly they were soft, and I expected they would apply pressure more gentally than the metal stretchers; secondly they could easily be worn under clothing, as they don’t require gravity to work – they simply compress and as they naturally try to return to their full length, they bear down on your testicles, providing a stretch for both your scrotal skin, and spermatic-chords.

Again, I found these were not for me. I never found a way to put them on without a need for at least a third hand, and as I was keen to wear these daily, that wasn’t going to happen. On the occasions I tried to them, I repeatedly found myself squeezing my balls way past discomfort and well towards pain. And the process of getting them off … well, lets just say it never went well! Failure number 2, and back to the drawing board.

My next purchase was a leather bag, double lined and filled with lead shot, which strapped around the base of my scrotum.

I liked the idea of this, but yet again my efforts were thwarted by my own anatomy and the relative position of the press studs. The bag just fell off, tweaking my balks as it slipped over them. Ouch! So I tried modifying the bag, and whilst my sewing skills were up to the job, I messed up my measuring: the strap that used to be too loose to stay above my testicles was now too tight and I couldn’t get it on at all. Failure number 3.

The search continued, and whilst browsing in a BDSM/fetish shop, I spotted a pair of weighted straps – effectively two leather tubes, filled with lead shot and press studs at the ends. Originally, these were stitched together at one end. But I could see no great advantage to this, so I cut them apart. This actually made life easier, as I could now use them separately if I wanted.

These actually worked well – I could put them on comfortably, and keep them in place for some time. Additionally, if I needed I could half or double the weight I was wearing. Sadly I was now single, and having finally found stretchers that worked for me, it all became purely for my own pleasure. I would often wear them from when I got home from work, until I went to bed and sometimes also at work … which added a little extra pervy pleasure. But I have not since indulged in any kind of CBT with a companion. (And no, Dear Regular Reader, I can’t imagine I ever will with my Wife, so don’t even bother to wonder.)

As with so many things sexual, the more you play, the more you want, and so I found myself looking at other stretchers. One of the things that had always put me off the steel collars was cost. Obviously, having shelled out on various stretchers I couldn’t use, and whilst the weighted straps were a success, this had become a bit of a falacy long ago. So I bit the bullet and purchased one. These consist of surgical grade, polished, stainless steel doughnuts, cut so they form two “C” shapes; these are fitted behind your balls and fastened with a couple of Allen head bolts.

And at last, I had found a truly good solution on attempt number 5. Once I had figured out the best procedure for getting the collar on (there were a few tweaks, and occasional pinches of skin as I nipped up the bolts) I soon found I could happily wear a collar all day.

Having found a device I could actually use, I started examining what I was actually trying to do, and researching a little more about the physiology. I won’t bore you with the details here (this post is long enough already) but suffice to say, unless I am prepared to wear increasingly heavy weights all day, 6 days a week, for months on end, it is unlikely I shall ever have danglers as pendulous as I’d like. And that’s not to say I want them round my knees. I’d be extremely happy for my nuts to drop just an inch. But personal circumstances mean I am unlikely ever to be so dedicated. What I have come to believe, and seem to have had some degree success with, it to re-educate my scrotum and my Cremasteric muscles. Having vested many cumulative hours of attention upon my genitals, I have come to the conclusion that my scrotum will relax to a reasonable length, and given the opportunity, my balls will descend accordingly. However, for some reason, both have been unwilling to comply with my conscious desires, or at least without persuasion. But by wearing stretchers, i have taught my body to relax a little more. This has been aided by the wearing of a second steel collar, and on occasions one of the weighted leather straps as well. Although the latter is as yet something I can only do for an hour or so, before my scrotal skin decides the stretch is too much, and I have to reduce it’s extension.

Whilst all the serious stretching has been a solo venture, I can confirm it is fantastic to fuck whilst wearing weights on my balls. I know this as I have worn them whilst using my trusty Fleshlight, wedging it between pillows, and pumping away at it as if it were the real thing. (How sad does that make me sound. Ha ha!) The sensation of stroking into a tight, lubed hole with my balls swinging back and forth is awesome. It would doubtless be even better if a real cunt were involved. And were my balls able to swing so well without assistance, I would indeed be a very happy man.

Whilst my ball stretching is both because I like the sensation of having my balls held, and because I would dearly love them to swing more freely, some people are prepared to take it to extremes. And I shall leave you with a couple of photos of just how far I am not prepared to go!!!

18 Responses to “… and stretch, two, three, four …”

  1. torturous man toys…ouch

  2. Gillian Colbert Says:

    Wow! Thank you for furthering my kinky education 😉

  3. The last two pictures just look … ouch!

    • Absolutely.
      The guy with the really long sack has written a lot about stretching and it sounds like a way of life for him.
      The picture of the guy hanging from his balls crops up a lot and, whilst impressive, does strike me as just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.
      I guess there are extreme examples of most fetishes, and these men must get something from stretching that is beyond my understanding.

  4. Good gawd. That last photo – jaw dropping – ball dropping. Holy shit! I had an exbf whose balls were naturally low-hanging. Like, super low. I used to tease him about his grandpa balls (is that wrong?? haha). He didn’t mind it and it never stopped me from stuffing my mouth with them!

  5. dawninflux Says:

    Oh, you have the metal ring one! I enjoy posts like this so much – information galore. Thanks for this.

    (I’ve tried to stop myself, but apparently I am also adding this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CZu9N8qMKjA&feature=youtube_gdata_player – my apologies)

  6. […] at least in the short term, I’m closing public access to that post. It still exists, and is still readable, you just have to ask for the password, and more […]

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