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This Is Why You Don’t Put a Penis Pump on Your Balls

This Is Why You Don’t Put a Penis Pump on Your Balls:

For some reason there’s a handful of men who think penis pumps work. “You know what’s a good idea? Sticking my dong inside of a vacuum!” That’s basically what they’re doing, so it’s no surprise there’s a large collection of horror stories online involving these “pleasure” devices. One Reddit user went on the r/TIFU subreddit to add his cautionary tale to the mix.

FYI, TIFU stands for “Today I Fucked Up,” so you can probably guess where this story’s going…

It was a typical day in November (just last week) and I felt extraordinarily kinky. My fiancee liked the idea of trying some new stuff, so off I go to the local adult store to pick up some new things.

Among the many items I picked up, I also saw a “beginner’s pump” in the…masculine pleasures…section. Naturally curious, and since it was on sale, I decided to pick it up.

For those of you that have never used these before, a penis pump is pretty much a plastic cylinder with a hose attached to the end that you “pump” the air out of, creating a vacuum. In order to seal this vacuum, you insert your manhood through a silicone opening that pretty much resembles a condom or an inverted nipple on a baby bottle, and then a cut in the end of the tube allows your pecker to be pulled into the cylinder by the force created.

So I tried the thing out. Wow! Not bad! But since it was a beginner’s pump, the force was so weak that I felt I could do more.

Back I go. On the way I call in an order for a pizza, since I’m getting hungry. The cashier at the shop, meanwhile, gave me a funny look as I set a new one (was called something like “the firefighter”) on the counter. I take it home, lube up, and give it a try.

Oh wow! This thing PULLED! I thought it was gonna rip my pecker off. And then, being as inherently smart as I am, I decided “I wonder what it would feel like if I stuck my balls in it.” Yes. Some of us just really are that stupid and have to learn from experience.

So I slather ‘em up and stick them in the opening and commence the pumping. Almost instantly, both of my little boys go “slurp” into the opening of the rubber part. Meh. Nothing too cool about it. So I decide to take it off.

The pump is like “Nope. They’re mine now.”

I pulled. I tugged. I tried every motion and twist and turn, but was met with pain, pain, and more pain. At one point I pulled so hard I thought I was going to rip my sack off.

As I began to get a slight bit frantic, I noticed that my nards were feeling tighter.

Oh joy. Something was swelling.

I managed to pry the silicon part off of the plastic cylinder (a work of God, by the way, especially when everything is all lubed up). At this point, my nuts are stuck through the end and the rubber part is squeezing them, and they start turning blue. As I’m sitting there with my pants down at my ankles, I hear a knock at the door.

Oh right. I ordered a pizza. FFS.

I scramble to get my pants on, shrieking in pain a few times as I try to fit my jeans around my engorged ballsack-broccoli combo. By now I have tears in my eyes from it hurting so badly that the pizza guy probably thought I was insane as I hurriedly gave him the cash and slammed the door.

I rip my pants back off and think that maybe if I squirt lube on everything it will help slide it out. Nope. This thing has a death grip on me so badly that it’s not even moving.

Just when I think things can’t get more humiliating, I hear the unmistakeable jingling sound of my dog’s necklace. I had forgotten to shut my bedroom door, so now she comes in, jumps up on the bed, and starts investigating everything, stepping on my groin in the process.

Now I’m in hysterics. I’m panicking, ready to pass out from the pain, half-tempted to call 911, and about ready to kick my dog into the next century. I grab a pair of scissors and start trying to cut, but I can’t even get a grip on the damn things because the lube was doing what it was supposed to. When I finally do, they slip and puncture the scrotum.

So here’s me, a full-grown man, sitting on my bed, covered in lube and blood, screaming in agony, when finally my girlfriend comes home.

By now I’ve gotten this crap all over the carpet, the dog has gotten into the pizza, and she shrieks, thinking I tried hurting myself. When I explain the situation to her, she calls 911. I end up getting 3 stitches on my nutsack, have the thing cut off by a doctor, all the while I can see them smirking behind their surgical masks.

It hurts to walk.

The lengths men will go to get off.


Joseph Misulonas is an Editorial Assistant for Playboy.com. He can be found on Twitter at @jmisulonas.

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