Rosie was supposed to be practicing her tennis, but the automatic ball machine was jammed. She was kneeling in front of it to unjam it when it suddenly cranked into motion, firing three balls in rapid succession directly into her tits.
The first ball hurt. The second ball left her breathless. But the third did something strange – just as it pounded into her titflesh (protected only by her thin tennis shirt), right in the same place the first ball had just bruised, she felt her pussy get wet.
After that it was out of balls. She stood up, rubbing her tits, carefully refilled it – from behind, this time – and went back to practicing her return. But as she volleyed the balls back over the net, she could still feel that wetness in her pussy, and the soreness in her tits – almost a *good* soreness.
She remembered when her father had used to spank her bare bottom, when she was younger. It hurt, and it was shameful, and yet it had left her warm and satisfied, like the pain had chased away all her other cares and worries. She remembered the day her father had stopped spanking her – well past her puberty – when he’d discovered her pussy had become embarrassingly wet during the spanking and left a damp patch on his knee.
The thought bothered her all through practice, and finally she couldn’t help herself. There was no one around. She got down on her knees in front of the ball machine – then, on consideration, got back up, took off her panties, her shirt, and her bra, and knelt again. Her breaths coming quick and shallow, she pointed the ball cannon deliberately at her tits, lowered one hand to her pussy to begin masturbating, and then used the other to press the remote control and make the machine start firing.
The pain was intense as tennis ball after tennis ball pummelled her tits. She wiggled back and forth to distribute the bruising across both of her fuckmelons. It hurt so bad – and yet it felt so good.
Deep down, she knew she deserved this pain in her udders, she deserved to have them bruised and crushed, and her cunt was so, *so* wet. Her fingers slid deep inside her fuckhole without resistance, and her thumb rubbed back and forth urgently across her swollen clitoris.
In the end, the orgasm she had was so powerful that she fell to the ground, surrounded by the tennis balls that had just abused her, clutching at her tits – now black and blue with bruising – and twitching her hips uncontrollably. She was still there, in fact, when the next court booking arrived…
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