The revenge of the betrayed wife

Marta struggled to hold back her tears in front of Alessia, her lifelong friend. She was telling her how the house of cards that was her marriage had suddenly collapsed when, due to a simple motorcycle accident, her husband, Pietro, was hospitalized unexpectedly, unable to check his cell phone for a few hours.
Marta discovered countless hidden chats with women of all ages, which justified his increasingly frequent business trips and Pietro's lack of interest in her.

He had always been a good husband, even if he sometimes had some peculiar ideas, like when he tried to keep his wife out of work because, in his opinion, women were supposed to take care of the house.
He had grown up in an extremely patriarchal family, so it was normal to have some ideas like that. Marta had gotten used to it and hoped that with time, things would change.

Now the situation was different. Marta felt used, and the affair had been going on for months, venting her anger and sadness to Alessia.
Her friend had always been more impulsive than her, a self-confessed maneater without ever having entertained the idea of ​​marriage or anything of the sort.
It was she who proposed the idea of ​​physical revenge, different from what Marta had envisioned, with the usual clichés like "I'll disappear for him, he'll never see me again," as if these were appropriate revenge for the humiliation she'd suffered.
At one point, Alessia exclaimed, "But if we ripped his balls off, he'd definitely never be able to mate again."

Marta flinched at the idea; she'd always been a very quiet girl, and gratuitous violence had never crossed her mind, not even against her worst enemy.

Yet a thrill of excitement filled her. The idea of ​​having that power over the man who had always treated her like a woman and never like a woman brought strange thoughts to mind, which she immediately tried to push aside. She replied with a smile, "You always know how to cheer me up, Ale, but I don't think prison would be ideal for me right now."

A few days passed, life seemed to be moving on. Marta had moved in with Alessia to piece together the pieces of her life, and she hadn't heard from Pietro in weeks. She had developed an aversion to the men who had caused her so much pain, to the point of starting to feel a certain attraction to her friend Alessia, who certainly wouldn't have shied away from new experiences, but who, ever since she discovered the infidelity, continued to insist on violent and irreversible methods of revenge.

One day, Marta received a threatening text message from her ex, urging her to get back together with him or he might do something crazy, peppered with sexist and chauvinistic insults. Upon reading that message, Marta felt transformed and looked defiantly at Alessia, suddenly exclaiming, "Ale, let's castrate him." Alessia, busy preparing lunch, happened to be slicing a carrot and, hearing those words, she stabbed her knife in, replying, "With this or with scissors." "A knife for life," Marta replied. And they laughed with satisfaction.

That afternoon, Alessia returned from work and emptied a series of medications onto the table, including a very powerful, almost instant sleeping pill, saying, "With this we'll put him to sleep after luring him into a trap." Marta, worried about her friend's intentions, tried to justify herself and back out, claiming she was joking, but then quickly gave in. At dinner, the girls promised to move on. They would kidnap, beat, and castrate Pietro. Without mercy.

So that same evening, Marta texted her ex, making a date for the next day at Alessia's house, assuring him they would be alone and able to talk freely. Pietro, a macho misogynist, would never have thought that going to his enemy's house could be a trap, and he went there without any fear, promptly at 9:00 a.m., entering the house and allowing himself to ask for a coffee. Marta smiled and approached the coffee machine, silently, and prepared it in less than a minute, adding a teaspoon of sleeping pills to the sugar. A few minutes passed, during which Pietro began to rant insults and become aggressive, but suddenly he began to stammer and feel strangely dizzy. At that moment, Alessia arrived from the bedroom, wearing shorts and laces.

"What the fuck are you doing here, slut?" Pietro exclaimed, before collapsing to the ground, and the last images he saw were those of the two women pounced on him, stripping him naked, before falling asleep.

Pietro woke up completely naked and in an unnatural position, with his arms pulled upward, tied to a wooden beam, and his legs held open by a strange device tied to his ankles, a sort of spreader. Alessia and Marta were giggling in front of him, and at the sight of them, Pietro began to insult them and show off his rudeness and chauvinism.

"What the fuck do you want, sluts?"

"Yours, tiny, or rather, your balls," Alessia replied, laughing.

Marta was embarrassed, looking at her ex-husband's angry face with compassion and a little shame, but with every insult she received, her anger grew. She knew that if he begged for forgiveness, she might give in, but no. Seeing that tough face again, without a shred of remorse for what he had done, convinced her to move on. She was determined to exact brutal revenge.

Alessia, posing as a judge, said, "In the name of the Italian women, I declare Pietro here guilty of the crime of repeated infidelity and sentence him to castration after torture of the duration determined by his ex-wife Marta."

"Let's do it," said Marta, high-fiving her friend, delivering a sudden, devastating kick in the balls, landing on her ex-husband's jewelry, which began to writhe. " Ahhhhhhhhhrgggggg ,

tr- ... "You bastards, free me or I'll kill you both after raping you, free me if you dare." "We'll free you, darling, don't worry, soon we'll free you from the burden of your chauvinism, we can't wait to rip your balls off and make you swallow them. What's that you used to say at home? You're a woman and you have to cook? Here, the next dish I'll serve you will be pan-fried mini-balls of a failed man." Hearing those words from Marta, Alessia exulted as if she'd heard the most beautiful sentence of her life and began to think about what kind of torture to begin with. The kicks had only been the official start of the dance. She took a long, thin rope and tied it tightly around the poor man's balls, who, despite his squirming, couldn't avoid the operation, and she stretched it perfectly to the other end of the room, attaching it to a makeshift hook that was used to hold up an old piece of furniture. Everything seemed perfect: Pietro's body was tense, his pelvis arched forward to reduce the pulling effect of the noose tied to his balls, which jutted out toward the wall, taut as a violin string. Marta watched in silence, listening to her ex-husband's moans and curses, and smiled when Alessia pulled a small but powerful whip from a drawer.

















"Now let's start counting the lashes, but if you get too worked up, the noose could rip your balls off, don't you think? You better take it like a real man."

SWOSHH

"One" "Two" "Three"

Each lash was followed by heart-rending screams and paroxysmal movements that squeezed his balls even tighter, pulling them towards the wall. The poor man was completely immobilized, his arms tied to the ceiling and his legs spread. The whip struck and struck, violently, Alessia and Marta took turns to rest their arms and the count stopped at 50. The whip marks on his back were starting to become vivid and his balls turned a dangerous blue color.

Davide burst into sobs and uttered a single word: "Mercy."

Marta, satisfied, grabbed the man by the hair, tilted his head back, and whispered in his ear, "You were such a macho man! Are 20 kicks in the balls and 50 lashes enough to make you collapse? I've always known you're a total loser."

As she said these words, she pulled the rope tied to his testicles upward, dramatically increasing its tension and causing the unfortunate man's attributes to move forward, which really seemed about to fall off.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHRGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!" The scream was heartbreaking.

In response, Marta and Alessia accompanied the scream, followed by tears, with a thunderous, diabolical laugh. They had broken the man, hitting him in the most symbolic part possible. They owned his balls. They could do whatever they wanted with him.

The two women began circling Pietro, finally untying his balls, laughing and fantasizing about what they would do next. They decided to challenge each other to a target practice. Alessia had an old gun, the kind you buy at the market, with yellow plastic pellets. It belonged to her nephew, left there for months and months and never thrown away. She pulled it out of a drawer and showed it triumphantly to Marta and then threateningly to Pietro.

"Let's establish the rules, three shots each, balls are worth 10, dicks are worth 5, the rest of the area is worth 1, if you completely miss the target, minus 1."

"You're crazy, you're crazy, Marta, please stop chasing this crazy woman, please, forgive me."

"It's late, my dear, you should have thought about that before screwing half the company, whoever is responsible for their own misfortune..."

The two women took up position, standing in front of him about 5 meters away.

"Try to move before the shot and we'll attack you like a pig that needs to be castrated," Alessia said. Immediately afterward, she passed the gun to Marta. "The honor is yours."

The first blow just below the navel, the second precisely on the tip of his cock, followed by a short but intense moan, the third grazed his right testicle, and the man's writhing movements, accompanied by a scream, convinced the two to award 10 points.

There were approximately 300 blows, and it took them half an hour of play to finish them, with the score 301 to 291 for Alessia.

"Too bad, you beat me by one blow in the balls." They laughed.

The man was hanging by his arms, his legs barely holding him up anymore. The torture of the toy gun had been more bearable than the kicks and whippings, but the wait for the blow was psychologically more difficult to handle.

Pietro was 32 years old, a muscular man, with a physique built by days spent in the gym, 1.85 m tall and 90 kg. Seeing him so dejected and suspended, his face streaked with tears, completely immobilized and his body covered in bruises was truly shocking.

Knowing that the architects of this fate were the two women silently observing him made everything even more absurd. Marta was a beautiful 28-year-old woman, 5'7", slim and curvy, with straight black hair and a genetically perfect body; Alessia was a powerful woman, the same age as her friend, 6'1", also obsessed with the gym, blonde with light eyes, and a masculine but extremely sexy physique. They were the ones who were stripping the virility from that boy who until a few hours earlier had been the perfect example of the patriarchal society that views women as sexual objects. The law of retaliation was so clear.

"Free me, I'll do whatever you want, I promise, I beg you, I won't scream, I won't try to escape, I'll be your slave, just stop hurting me, please, have mercy."

The two women looked at each other. "Don't take the fun away from us just yet, we thought you'd hold out a little longer, you melted right away, you wimp," said Alessia.

"We can't just move on to slavery, we've only just started with the violence, be a man once in a while," Marta added.

Pietro lowered his head, he knew it wouldn't end there.

Pietro was lolling. He didn't know what to expect. He wanted this torture to end as soon as possible, but he hoped he'd still be able to keep his balls intact. In a fit of violence and machismo, he began to shout and thrash around again, insulting the two women. As soon as Alessia passed by, he let out a spit that, luckily for the woman, missed her.

"This was a terrible mistake, Mr. Dickhead. My goal now is not to cut off your balls, but to demolish them until they become a shapeless pulp and you have to spit them out."

After finishing her sentence, she unleashed a series of mind-blowing blows on the unfortunate man's balls, a series of blows of unprecedented violence that quickly rendered the man unconscious again.

"Stop or you'll kill him sooner than expected, my poor husband," Marta said, smiling.

"LET'S TORTURE HIM."

They untied him and he fell dead weight to the floor. The two women trampled on him relentlessly as they prepared their next move. They placed a table in the middle of the room and lifted the man's body onto it, leaving his legs dangling so they could tie them to the legs of the table itself and also securing his arms, leaving Pietro lying on the table but with his balls just hanging out, exposed between his spread legs.

They took the noose and re-secured it to his still bluish balls, tying the other end to a heavy, rotating ornamental device, a kind of rudder. The effect was terrible; the Women could have spun the object by wrapping the rope around it, increasing the tension on the noose.

"Fuck, we'll rip them off with this."

"I can't wait to hear him scream."

"Take the photos of his lovers, everything you have, the chats, the messages, the emails, let's make him understand where he went wrong. After all, this is just a simple educational gesture, right?" Alessia laughed.

After about twenty minutes and a few glasses of ice water to his face, Pietro woke up, finding himself in that position, starting to whimper, begging for mercy again.

"So," Marta urged, "now let's play a little game."

She positioned herself next to him, sitting on an upside-down chair, arms resting on the back and legs spread, like in an interrogation session in American movies. She lit a cigarette and smiled.

"Let's get started, here's the first photo, tell me the girl's name and role in the company, hurry up, worm."

"Ba-Ba-Barbara, she was the sales manager for the Southern area, I met her at a meeting in Naples."

"How did she fuck? From 1 to 10."

"Terrible, I immediately regretted it."

Alessia violently turned the wheel and Pietro shouted

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHRRRRGGGGGGG NOOOOOOOOO"

"Don't tell bullshit, piece of shit, answer seriously."

"O-eight."

"Eight, good girl, 80 grams plus 20 for the lie, total 1 kg."

Pietro didn't understand, a kg of what, what were the girls talking about? What had they been talking about while he was passed out?

"Yes, dear, you're right, you fainted because of Alessia's caresses. Now I'll explain. At the end of the game, we'll hang you from the ceiling, completely suspended, and tie some weights to your mini balls, which we'll calculate with this game. You can't lie because from chats with your friends, we know who you liked the most and who you didn't, and every girl who comes up, Alessia will provide a turn of the helm."

She gestured to her friend, who immediately tightened the rope, visibly pulling his balls and eliciting yet another heart-rending scream.

"Good, let's continue..."

The game lasted a very long time, they advanced very slowly to prolong the boy's suffering, who by the end had accumulated 8.6 kg from his 12 extramarital affairs, obviously rounded up to 9 kg by the two Women.

The man's balls were incredibly tense, they seemed on the verge of falling off and he whimpered senseless phrases, seeking understanding from Alessia and Marta who instead were increasingly amused by seeing him in such pain.

"Now let's move on to phase two of the game. If you even try to react, I'll cut your balls off and stick them in your mouth, okay?"

They untied Pietro, keeping the ropes around his wrists tight because they were ready to fight him. Instead, he let them move him as if nothing had happened, without even the slightest bit of fighting spirit, now spent. They stood him up and made him climb onto two chairs, one foot each, passing the rope from his arms over a ceiling beam, so that he could lift them by simply pulling down. Pietro passively raised his arms and found himself almost hanging with his legs spread apart resting on the chairs.

Alessia went to get a bucket, tied a rope to the handle and secured the other end to the man's testicles.

Pietro understood. That's where the 9 kg would end up.

Along with the bucket, Alessia had brought her homemade gym weights. She took exactly 9 of them, 1 kg each, and placed them in front of them.

"One at a time is more effective."

She gave one to Marta who She placed it in the bucket, not taking care to be gentle. Then the weight fell into the bucket with a devastating impact on Pietro's balls.

They continued like this, taking turns. As soon as she finished, Alessia began walking around Pietro, out of his sight, while Marta sat on the sofa opposite and spread her legs, stripping naked.

The scene was devastating: Pietro suspended in the air with his balls pulled down by the 9 kg weight, and Marta began to slide her fingers inside herself, engaging in autoeroticism.

"Let me come one last time, Pietro, come on, apologize, beg for mercy, it turns me on to hear you cry, defenseless puppy, move, apologize SCREAMING!"

Marta's hands moved expertly as Pietro began to stammer his apology. "Sorry, darling, I'm sorry, I made the biggest mistake of my life, I'm sorry, free me and I won't do it again, I'll live only for you, please."

"YELL DOG, YELL AND BEG FOR MERCY, BEG ME NOT TO TEAR OFF YOUR BALLS

." At that point, Alessia kicked the bucket, making it swing, forcing Pietro to scream as he tried to formulate his apology.

"SORRYY ...

Sure, she should have kept her word, but it would certainly have been better than castration.

"What did he say? 'Forgive me, and I'll be yours alone,' or 'I'll use my balls only on you,'" Marta asked her friend, who nodded.

The woman then stood up and went over to her ex-husband, placed her still-wet balls on his lips, and said solemnly: "You believed it, you worm, you believed that I would want to be touched by you again, you offered me your ridiculous balls, for you this is a way of apologizing to a Woman. I enjoyed seeing the hope in your eyes as I came. But don't worry, your offer to use your balls only on me will not be feasible because soon you will no longer have them."

Pietro winced and then was struck by an unbearable pain. Marta had violently hit the bucket, which began to swing again.

From behind, Alessia untied the poor, broken man and secured him to the table, keeping the bucket tightly tied, even though it was now on the floor, so as not to be able to let Pietro escape.

"You made me want it, though," she added. "Shall we play a game on the sofa?"

Marta nodded, and the two Women began to touch each other under the tired, crying eyes of the now soulless Pietro.

"After orgasm, you get hungry," Alessia said after repeatedly enjoying herself with Marta, under the somewhat absent gaze of Pietro, who was still alert enough to observe everything.

The two women, after refueling with something quick they found in the refrigerator, returned to Pietro and, without a word, completely untied him, leaving him stretched out on the floor, naked as a worm. The man began to crawl slowly, aimlessly. He didn't have the strength to get up and didn't know what was next.

At a certain point, the two women, without even speaking to each other but merely exchanging a nod of understanding, began to repeatedly kick Pietro's body, with unprecedented violence, initiating a truly gratuitous beating peppered with insults that became increasingly more severe as the man's screams grew louder.

"ENOUGH, PLEASE!"

"Take it like a man, you piece of shit, come on, show us what you're capable of!"

The blows continued to follow one another, and Pietro tried to cover the most painful areas with his arms, making the mistake, after a blow to the ribs, of covering his chest, leaving his balls free without clenching his legs. He found himself face up, with his legs slightly bent and open. It was at that point that Marta, now in the grip of a blind, vengeful fury, landed a kick on the man's genitals. His balls split under her foot, one going to the left and one to the right, and his cock was caught perfectly between them, crushed by the Woman's passion.

"I'm going to crush your balls, hubby, so we can see how you can whore later."

The man was now reduced to a mass of red and blue bruises, he no longer had the strength to breathe and alternated moments of rage with moments of pure submission, begging for mercy. At a certain point, the two Women's conversation made him shiver.

"The time has come to decide how to end this," said Marta.

"Should we castrate him or not? And if we do it afterward, what will happen?" she added.

"What do you mean IF, I was only thinking about the HOW," and they laughed together, but Marta was thoughtful, worried about the consequences.

"Let's give him a chance. If, despite being in such a bad state, he manages to satisfy us, he can have his balls saved. After all, he's a stallion, isn't he?"

They barely got him to his feet, his hands tightly tied behind his back, a spreader around his legs, and a leash around his neck tied to the table, which didn't hinder his movements but prevented him from escaping. The two women began licking his cock to arouse him.

"Now you're our SLAVE, satisfy us and you'll have your balls saved. If you disappoint us, you know what your end will be," Alessia said, placing a large kitchen knife on the table.

Immediately afterward, Marta approached her ex-husband and bent over, taking his cock in her hand and sliding it between her legs, gently enveloping it. Pietro began to move passionately, knowing he was risking everything right then. He summoned all his strength and began moving inside her. He was good at fucking, he had experience with his lovers, and now he hoped that these betrayals could help him, making his ex-wife enjoy herself enough to save his balls.

He managed to bring the woman to orgasm quickly, but immediately afterward he had to repeat the process with Alessia. They fucked him repeatedly for over two hours, the man resisting and managing to satisfy both of them several times. When they were tired, they left him there, still hanging, exhausted, and went away for what seemed like an eternity.

When they returned, he understood: IT'S OVER.

The two women were talking, holding two large kitchen knives in their hands, discussing a "Plan." It was the plan for his end.

"Did you really think we were going to save you? Come on, we couldn't save you just for making us enjoy ourselves a little. That's precisely why we're going to cut off your balls: for making too many women enjoy themselves."

Saying those words, Alessia untied the man's hands, and with his last shred of strength, he tried to break free and run away. Marta grabbed him, knocking him to the ground, and threw herself on top of him in a brief struggle. Alessia grabbed his legs, lifting them slightly, leaving the man resting on the floor with only his arms and face down, his balls dangling, and BAAAAAM.

A series of kicks to the balls in that position, with Pietro advancing a few centimeters with each blow, creating a totally ridiculous scene. This time the kicks were uncontrolled; any attempt to escape would not have been forgiven. The man's balls were at the limit, on the verge of bursting under the furious pressure of the Woman's foot.

Marta intervened and stopped her: "Enough, don't demolish them, I want to cut them off myself."

Alessia stopped and left the boy's now lifeless body on the ground, unconscious.

When Pietro awoke, he found himself tied crosswise to the ground, in a sort of garden of that isolated, enormous house, secured to the ground by four massive stakes, completely naked, with his balls bleeding and aching.

The two Women circled him, like vultures over a dying prey.

Marta was savoring the moment, almost physically enjoying the position of supremacy she held.

"It's time," she said.

She knelt between Pietro's spread legs, brandishing a large, sharp knife. Marta, meanwhile, was bouncing, excited by what she was about to see, slightly envious that she couldn't be the one to castrate this inferior being. Then she grabbed his head and lifted it towards her pelvis, forcing him to witness what was about to happen.

Marta took courage. She thought back to the insults she'd suffered, the physical abuse she'd sometimes been forced to endure in her married life. She grabbed her ex-husband's balls, now reduced to a swollen mass, and separated them from his cock and groin. A deep sigh and ZAC. His balls flew away forever.

Peter had been castrated. Peter was no longer a man.

The man let out a piercing scream before passing out. Alessia, a medical expert, immediately rushed to apply a dressing and stitches. They would decide later what to do with him; certainly, leaving him free would be risky; he would likely become their secret eunuch, hidden forever in that suburban villa, dedicated to serving and revering them while society declared him gone.

Marta and Alessia looked with satisfaction at the man's balls, now on the floor, forever detached from that lifeless body.

"What do we do with them?" asked Marta.

Alessia took a glass jar with a saline solution to preserve them, then placed it in a box and wrote some words on a piece of paper.

"To the Association of Victims of Domestic Harassment and Violence. Dear friends, remember that no matter what happens, We Women can react to anything. We Women can have the power to change things. Never bow your heads, and if necessary, castrate, castrate, castrate. Long live Women."

They laughed, freshened up, and quickly changed to take the package to the shipping point. Afterward, an aperitif awaited them at the bar where it all began.

They walked in and, as if nothing had happened, looked at the bartender and said in unison,

"The usual, thanks."

THE END.