Ten years ago, any bloke who said he was obsessed with "ball playing" would be categorizing himself as a gym rat, or perhaps a softball league addict. Words warp weirdly, as culture squeals forward. Today, a dude admitting to "ball play" devotion is undoubtedly outing himself as a gonad-gouging, scrotum-suffering nut knave. Cruelly creative body modifiers are tormenting testicles with intense neo-primitive zeal. Floppy flesh-sacks are getting skewered, burned, stretched, slapped, injected with liquids, and even slashed off!
The wrinkled "turkey wattle" bags that sequester a man's "family jewels" are densely webbed with nerve sensitivity; a swift kick to the wobblies is crippling. Sweaty vulnerability, combined with totemic status as tanks of testosterone, marks the dangling pouches as principal targets for cutting-edge S/M games.
"Show some balls" is the slang demand for an exhibition of courage; perhaps this explains why I challenged my pair when I was prepubescent. My brother Oliver and I used to maim ourselves in nutty, scorching contests -- we'd press our hairless scrotums against illuminated light bulbs until one of us surrendered. Our endurance ordeals caused second-degree burns, scabbing, and dangerous layers of tender skin-peeling.
Twenty years later, "Mistress Josephine" resurrected this memory when she twisted my testes. "Ouch!" I yelped. Gooey pain coursed out of my groin, mingling with anticipatory fear and fantasy -- another twist, I believed, would shatter my balls. Like water balloons, they'd wetly explode like volcanic zits.
Online forums exist for anyone curious about ball-brutalization -- savage tips and surgical advice are suggested, plus references to dominatrixes and masters who specialize in scrotal inquisition. Below, I've also posted several torturous recipes that can be imposed upon eager gonads:
Ball Beating: Slap, punch, and squeeze the pitiful beanbags. Viciously pull on the wispy hairs. Poke 'em sharply with pencils, or whip 'em with a miniscule cat 'o nine tails. Rubber mallets and drumsticks are also employable.
Scrotal Piercings: The "guiche" ring is inserted near the rear of the balls, by the gritty perineum (seems like you might accidentally wipe some shit on it). The "scrotum ladder" lines the tissue between the testicles with stairs of "jewelry." It would be a hassle taking all this stuff off at an airport's metal-detection station! Other piercings are the "hafada" and "trans-scrotal."
Ball Crushing: Encase the terrified sacks in wet leather; when it dries they'll be shrieking. Vice grips, rubber bands, and blood pressure cuffs can also provide squishy fun.
Scrotal Implants: Want lower-hanging balls? Just slice open your sack, and pack it with stainless steel. But beware of gangrene, and other infections.
Ball Stretchers: Another technique that develops droopy baskets. Wrap straps around the top of the scrotum -- this will force the nuggets south into the tight, anguished sack. Straps (as wide as four inches) can be Velcro, leather, or even metal -- if they're very naughty slaves. Warning: Don't block circulation.
Scrotal Infusions: For a "puff daddy" appearance, squirt your bag full of a sterilized fluid, like saline, distilled water, or diluted Lidocaine. You'll look like a blowfish, or dim sum.
Testicle Weights: Dangle fish-lead from a chain or rope wrapped around the top of the scrotum. Work your way up to three pounds. If hauling around industrial loads isn't your style, replace the cargo with a large bag of candy.
Temperature Tortures: Immerse the naughty nuts in a tiny hot tub, or scald them in a bowl of cooked rice. Alternate with ice-rubs. Electrocution is also exciting, if you're into CIA scenes.
Castration: The Vienna choir boy cut is absolutely the last inning in anyone's ball game, but many still seek this "sack-rificing" adventure. Anesthetics and a sheep, pig, goat and cattle device called the "Burdizzo clamp emasculator" make the procedure "quite painless" according to a Florida survivor named Gelding. The "Elastrator" -- also available at large-animal veterinary supply houses -- is another popular method. It's a ball-clamp that eliminates blood circulation; in six hours the deceased nuts "can be cut off without any pain or bleeding," notes Eunuch.org.
Serious caution must be maintained with any of the procedures above. Hemorrhaging, shock, and testicle rupture are the penalties inflicted upon stupid players, and careless castrati can bleed to death.
If reading this article made your shivering sack recoil high up in your loins like a cringing collie, watch out! Next time you're invited to a "ball game," ask questions before you arrive, and wear a protective jock-cup, just in case.
Hank Hyena is a columnist for SFGate.com and a frequent contributor to Salon.