I was reading this and it reminded me of some teen activities
At boarding school we had a activity called "greasing" this involved smearing some kids balls with Mecleans toothpaste. It burned like high hell. My recollections are a bit hazy but I was aware of the practice long before I ever participated in it.
The operation normally took place at night and most likely I imagine on a weekend. People seemed pretty focussed on school during the week.
I do recall though looking back that feeling of detached curiosity when some kid or other was deemed in need of being greased and would be grabbed and someone would squeeze a goodly amount of toothpaste into their hand and they would shove it down the kids undies or PJ pants and plaster his balls in it. The kid would be held down bucking and screaming until it was deemed enough was enough and the kid would run off to the showers.
The day must have come when it befell me and the burning sensation was insane. I bucked and struggled and fought all to no avail and when finally released sprinted for the showers. Then a second wave of pain. Interestingly as the water hit there was a second wave of pain. The burning sensation continued at a milder level for some hours.
I do not recall how many times I was greased. Not many. The curiosity though was there and at various times I tried it on myself. Sometimes accompanied by masturbation that I guess creating a neural pathway joining pleasure and pain.
The other memory from this same time was that it befell me to grease someone else. I suspect that I was 'designated' to perform the act. I do not recall being the sort of kid who would do this sort of thing as a personal vendetta. I recall the kid in question knew that I was designated to do this. In hindsight a example of dominant power. I recall quite a feeling of exhilaration as I negotiated with him that he would grease himself. This gave me a sense of relief because I was not all that keen on either shoving my hands down his pants nor the physically forceful process of catching and forcing it all to happen. Somehow the negotiated approach seemed better. The poor kid agreed to do it and to stand until I released him. This suited me fine and I received notoriety for the act as a small group witnessed it and witnessed the poor kid standing there with tears streaming down his face bent over holding his burning balls and pleading to be allowed to go.
Interesting how ones memories are triggered
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