Tracey's Mom Puts Her Foot Down

Dispensing free vasectomies since 1975.

     When I walked out of my bedroom into the hallway that morning, bleary-eyed, the sting from the Deep Heat Tracey had smeared onto my balls still made me feel queasy. I walked bow-legged toward the living room where Tracey was doing her morning yoga routine. I stood by the door admiring her limber physique, and how flexible her legs were in her warrior pose. She caught sight of me through the corner of her eye as she breathed out, her chest heaving in her tight workout top. Sweat dripping over her body, moist patches on her clefts evident through her tight yoga pants, traced her tight buttocks.

     "How are they hanging?" She chirped, excitedly.

     "Sore, they're still really sensitive," I said. "I barely slept all night."

     "Good," she smiled. "So if they got punted right now that would hurt really bad, huh?"

     "Yeah, I think I'm going to need a couple days off at-"

     Suddenly a gracefully-aged, feminine leg arched around the doorway, jamming its delicate, French-manicured, bare toes through my aching manhood, deep into my pelvis.

     I gasped deeply, dropping to my knees, wailing and keening like a beaten dog.

     "Too bad," came a smokey voice that I immediately recognised from my youth. It was Tracey's mother, she must have come to town. Her gorgeous, hour-glass figure emerged into view.

     "Mrs. Winters," I coughed and spluttered. "I didn't know you were in town."

     She stood before me victoriously, hands on hips, as I kneeled before her in the depths of agony. Even at her age, she was stunning. Some would say she was inappropriately dressed in a skimpy outfit, something I'd expect to see Tracey wearing. A tight red crop-top with a bare midriff and a tightly banded black miniskirt. Her assault on my balls stung more knowing I'd be rubbing one out to this very image after I'd healed.
     I still remembered her youth so vividly - the masturbatory aid of my adolescence.
     She drew her leg back and rocketed her toes into my balls a second time with a ferocity I wouldn't have thought she could muster. 

     The pain was blinding as I heaved and rushed forward, crumpling onto her leg. My face rested against her cool thigh. She left her foot buried deeply into my manhood as I strained to retain consciousness.

     "Tut tut," she chided. "You shouldn't make assumptions about a woman. Mr. Winters and I have gotten a divorce. It's Mz. Winters now."

     She arched her toes higher inside my crumpled mess of a groin. I wailed incoherently. I heaved, her toes elicited the desired response. Despite the agony running through my abdomen, my swollen member laid itself erect up against her devastating shin.

     "Mr. Winters didn't like the way I handled his goods. So lets just say he doesn't stand to attention any more. You on the other hand... Well... You seem to get very stiff indeed."

     Tracey appeared by her mother's side. "Like I told you, mom, he has a foot fetish and a ballbusting fetish. He really likes this. If you crunch his nuts hard enough he usually cums all over himself."

     "I see," she practically moaned. "I thought you were having me on, but this is very interesting."

     I was still beyond words after her second vicious kick, slumped over her leg.

     Tracey crouched down to my eye level, "Sorry, I forgot to tell you, my mom is visiting us and she'll be staying in your room. I'm sure when you're capable of speaking again, you'll tell me you don't mind. She told me about that time she caught you jerking off to a picture of her in our house when we were teenagers so I guess you owe her for all the mental jerk material. And I told her about your little masochistic streak, so I think this should be a fun month for the two of you. Okay, sweetie?" She cooed, slapping my cheek softly for emphasis. I moaned in response.

     Tracey stood up, turning to her mother, "I know it doesn't feel that big on your leg, but it's about 6 inches, so it's not much but it's something. If he can't keep it up from the busting, just go reverse cow-girl and make sure you keep a vice grip on his nuts, or better yet put one of your shoes over his nose as soon as you get home from a long day. He's usually rock hard after that."

     "Wow, you seem to have quite a handle on this."

     "You have no idea, mom. Okay, well I'm off to attend to that appointment we organised, Daniel. I'll let you two get better acquainted." She sashayed out the door, soaking in sweat, still in her yoga gear.

     "Well, she seems to be making quite the business out of these vasectomies. Looks like you got yours for a bargain, tiger," said Mz. Winters. "Now, lets get you onto the couch."

     She withdrew her foot from my crotch, causing waves of new pain to echo through my abdomen. I groaned loudly and collapsed. 

     She kneeled down to my side. "Come on now, get up. Stop being such a baby. They're only your balls."

     I was beyond complying. My legs were useless to me. My body was screaming for me to never move again.

     "Maybe you need a little motivation," she reached down to my waistband and slipped her hand inside my shorts. Her delicate and soft, manicured hand snaked its way around to my balls and locked on like a clamp." I wailed a high pitch note. "Up you get, son," she cooed.

     She lifted me up by the testicles and my legs suddenly found strength purely from the fear of having my balls ripped off. She pulled me higher than necessary and forced me to walk on my toes to the nearest couch before she positioned me in front of the seat and released me, I dropped back to my knees, a heaving mess.

     She slowly and gracefully perched herself onto the seat in front of me, crossing her legs. Her feet bobbing dangerously close to the mangled organs she'd just pounded. 

     "Now," she pouted. "As you can imagine a lady of leisure like myself would have racked up quite a lot of debt since my husband hobbled away nursing his excuse for reproductive organs. I've been thinking, Tracey says that you've been paying her bills ever since you two started on this sterility project of yours."
     She saw the shock in my eyes, "Oh yes, she's told me everything about your useless little scrotum stuffers." She jabbed at my crotch with her big toe. I startled. "My baby girl sure did a number on your nads, eh? You poor baby."
     She smiled affectionately, feigning compassion, before suddenly becoming stern again. A dark look passed over her eyes. She leaned forward and grabbed a hold of my scrotum through my loose pants, cupping them securely in her open palm.
     "Now, I'm 58, so I'm not interested in a man with working baby-makers. You can shoot all the blanks in me you want. What I do need is someone to pick up the tab. Understand?"
     "I-" She tightened her grip to a vice before I could get a word out.
     "Be careful, sweetie. Remember who's got your whole world in their hand. And I haven't even used my nails yet. Now, answer correctly and I'll go easy on you."
     She raised her free hand high into the air, balling up a fist.
     "Will you marry me?"
     "I-" *crunch*
     "Tsk tsk. That looked like it hurt. Now, I'll ask again, will you marry me?"
     "I-" *crackle*
     "Now I have to use my nails, baby." *squish*
     I screamed, "Yes! Yes! Please no more!" I was sobbing at her feet.
     "I'm glad you finally came to your senses. Now stop sobbing, it's not all bad news. You know, my ex-husband had quite the foot fetish too, so you pick up a few things by the time you're my age. How about we celebrate? It's not everyday you get engaged, now is it?"
     She raised her feet to wrap around my battered member. Her wrinkled soles began their ministrations and before long I was ready for my first orgasm at her feet.