Hey all you ballbusting fans! Here is a new story based on musician and fitness influencer Omar Enfedaque. He is built like a tank and always exercising shirtless in the park with kettle bells so his muscular frame inspired his ball beating!
If you want more videos of him working out shirtless his handle is https://www.instagram.com/omarenfedaque - great angles where you want him ballbusted! BBSuzie xxx
If you want more videos of him working out shirtless his handle is
Omar showing how her jerks off
Always bragging about being naked
Omar was the kind of guy who turned heads wherever he went. Standing tall with broad shoulders, muscles rippling under his bronzed skin, and a chiseled six-pack that seemed almost sculpted by the gods themselves, he often drew attention when he worked out in the park. His usual spot was right by the fountain, where the sun cast a golden glow over his shirtless torso as he cranked out sets of push-ups, pull-ups, and squats with ease.
It was a warm Saturday afternoon, and the park was bustling with activity. A few women sat nearby, eyeing him as they whispered and giggled. Omar noticed them, but he was used to it. He thrived on the attention his physique brought, always throwing in a few extra reps whenever he had an audience.
"Let's see if he's as tough as he looks," one of the women, Lisa, whispered to her friends with a mischievous grin. The idea struck her out of nowhere, and it was so absurd that her friends burst into laughter. They joked about it for a while, egging each other on, until Lisa finally stood up, the devilish glint in her eyes growing brighter.
As Omar moved from squats to a plank position, completely absorbed in his workout, Lisa approached him from behind. Without a word, she lined herself up, took a deep breath, and with surprising speed, lifted her leg into a perfect mule kick, her heel landing squarely between his legs.
The shock and pain were instantaneous. Omar gasped, collapsing onto the ground, his hands instinctively clutching at his groin. A ripple of laughter spread through the park, and Omar’s pained groan seemed to hang in the air.
His ego bruised more than his body, he tried to get up, but before he could fully recover, another woman from the group stepped forward, eager to join in. "Hey, let me give it a go!" she said with a giggle.
Omar, still on his knees, couldn't believe what was happening. His attempts to stand were cut short as the next woman delivered another brutal kick. His body convulsed in agony, but the sight of his muscular frame crumpling under the blows only seemed to amuse the women more.
------
As Omar dropped to the ground after the first kick, his breath came in short, panicked bursts. He clutched at his groin, his eyes wide with disbelief. "What the hell?" he gasped, looking up at Lisa with a mixture of pain and shock. "Why would you—"
Before he could finish, another woman stepped forward, laughing. “Oh, come on, tough guy, you can handle this, right?” she teased, lining up her shot.
Omar raised a trembling hand, trying to push himself upright. “Wait—no, stop!” he pleaded, but it was too late. The second kick landed with a sickening thud, and he doubled over, collapsing fully onto the grass. "Oh god, please!" he groaned, his voice cracking under the weight of the agony coursing through his body.
By now, more women had gathered, giggling amongst themselves. One woman from the back shouted, “Look at him squirm! I want a turn!”
Omar, struggling to breathe, propped himself up on one elbow, his voice desperate. “Stop! Please... you’re hurting me!” His words came out in ragged gasps, but no one seemed to care.
Another woman, this one with long red hair tied in a ponytail, walked up with a playful grin. "You’re always showing off, Omar. Let’s see how strong you really are!"
He tried to scoot backward, his voice growing hoarse. “No more… I’m serious! You—" His words cut off with a loud grunt as her kick struck home. His body spasmed, his hands instinctively clutching at his groin, but the damage was already done.
Tears brimmed in his eyes as he lay crumpled on the ground. “You don’t understand… the pain… please…,” he begged, his voice barely a whisper. But the line of women had only grown longer.
As the next woman approached, Omar could only manage a weak, "Why? Why are you doing this?" His voice was laced with both pain and confusion, but his pleas were drowned out by laughter and cheers from the growing crowd.
A woman at the front of the line giggled as she stepped up, her boot tapping the ground playfully. "Because, Omar," she said with a smirk, "it's fun to kick a man there!"
And with that, she delivered another brutal kick. Omar’s body jerked violently, and for a moment, he thought he might black out. His vision blurred, and the throbbing pain in his groin became unbearable. He let out a guttural cry, his voice barely audible.
Through gasps, he muttered, “Please… someone… help…” But no help came. The women kept lining up, their laughter ringing in his ears as he lay there, helpless, each kick pushing him further into the abyss of pain.
---
Omar gasped as he tried to roll away from the relentless line of women, but his body wouldn’t respond. The pain from the first kicks had already left him incapacitated, yet the laughter and taunts continued, as though his suffering was a spectacle they couldn’t resist watching.
The first woman’s kick had been more playful than malicious, her heel connecting solidly but without the full force of what was to come. "You should’ve seen your face!" Lisa had laughed, shaking her head as Omar collapsed in a heap.
The second kick, however, was delivered with purpose. The brunette lined herself up, her sneakers digging into the grass as she launched backward. Her heel drove upward and struck his groin with brutal precision. Omar’s breath hitched in his throat, and a strained, guttural sound escaped his lips.
“God, that felt amazing!” the woman exclaimed, laughing. “It’s like I hit a piñata!”
Omar was too overcome to speak. His hands trembled as they hovered over the damage, unsure if even touching it would worsen the unbearable ache. "You... don't understand..." he rasped, his voice barely audible. "It's not... funny. I think—"
Before he could finish, a third woman stepped up, her high heels clicking against the pavement as she approached. She adjusted her stance, her smirk widening. “Let’s see how he takes this,” she said with a wicked grin, lifting her leg in a controlled motion before slamming her heel upward into his groin.
The sharp, pointed heel crushed into him with devastating precision, and Omar screamed. The sound tore from his throat involuntarily, a mixture of agony and disbelief. He could feel a sickening internal snap, and his eyes rolled back as a wave of nausea overtook him.
"Did you hear that?" one of the onlookers gasped, her hand over her mouth in mock horror. "That sounded like something… broke."
Omar tried to speak, to plead for them to stop, but his voice was hoarse. “Please… I’m begging you… something’s wrong...” His breaths were shallow, his chest heaving as he fought to stay conscious.
The next woman in line—a tall blonde in running shoes—brushed off his cries. “Oh, come on, you’re built like a tank,” she teased, jogging in place as she prepared her turn. “You’re not gonna let a few kicks take you down, are you?”
Omar couldn’t even lift his head to reply. His hands were pressed against his groin in a futile attempt to protect what remained, but it didn’t matter. The blonde’s sneaker slammed into his hands with enough force to shove them aside and hit its target dead-on.
Her heel crushed into him with a horrifying accuracy, and Omar’s entire body convulsed. His cry was choked, his voice breaking under the sheer intensity of the pain. He curled up on the ground, his face pale and his limbs trembling.
The women seemed exhilarated by the effect their kicks were having. One woman stepped away from the crowd, fanning herself dramatically. “Wow, that’s a workout in itself!” she joked, laughing as she watched the next woman take her place.
Each kick seemed to push Omar further toward the edge. By the time the sixth or seventh woman stepped up, he was barely able to move. His groin was a throbbing, swollen mess, and the internal damage was undeniable.
Then it happened. A sharp, gut-wrenching rupture. The ninth kick—delivered by a woman wearing chunky boots—struck with such force that Omar felt an unmistakable tearing sensation. His body stiffened, his eyes widening in horror as a fresh wave of agony consumed him. “Oh, God! I think… they’re gone…” he croaked, his voice barely above a whisper.
The woman pulled her leg back, looking down at him with mock sympathy. “Oops,” she said with a smirk, not bothering to hide her amusement.
After his testicles ruptured, the kicks didn’t stop. If anything, the women seemed even more enthusiastic, laughing and cheering each other on as they took turns. Omar’s voice grew weaker with every blow, his words devolving into incoherent groans and gasps.
One woman crouched down beside him, her tone dripping with mock concern. “Aww, poor guy,” she cooed, running a finger down his cheek. “You look like you’re in so much pain. Should we stop?”
“Yes...” he managed to whisper, his voice barely audible. “Please... no more...”
But his plea only made the crowd laugh louder. The women spotted Omar's fitness equipment, big heavy shiny kettlebell. "Here girls, help me lift this." Another woman—her heels impossibly tall—stepped forward needing the help of three other women to gift the heavy metal object from the ground. Omar's spots this and sees what that are planning to do with it.
"No..please.." as he tries to roll away only for his large sweaty frame to be pinned back. The 4 women hover the heavy kettlebell over the remain bulge where Omar's manhood used to be. He hoist it high and slam if down between his legs.
Omar arches up and screams. "Ooft that was heavy" the tall woman mocked, whilst the women all laugh mockingly and at Omar's pained reaction. "Let's make sure his manhood's really ruined" as they prepare to lift the kettlebell again and delivered yet another devastating blow. Omar’s body jerked violently, but by now, the pain was so overwhelming that his senses had started to dull. He drifted in and out of consciousness, his world reduced to the relentless pounding in his groin and the mocking laughter surrounding him.
When the last woman finally stepped away, Omar lay motionless on the ground, kettlebell now indented into his groin, his body battered beyond recognition. The women dispersed, satisfied with their fun, leaving him broken and humiliated in the grass.
As the world around him faded, Omar managed one final thought: Why? Why did no one stop them?
Kick him in his unprotected shorts
Drop that kettlebell on his nuts
