Some Books With Busts!

A post for those of you interested in books, and perhaps expanding your literary library, or just looking for some decent busts in 'quality' literature, or whatever. There are a couple busts in some books I've read, and thought I could share it with you lot! 

My friend lent me this book called In the Pond by Ha Jin. It takes place in China, during what may of been the Mao Era(?) and focuses on the political aspect of a working man who's talents are being sorely underappreciated, and who is on the receiving end of unfair treatment by his higher ups. 

The book, as a whole, felt accurate, grounded and somewhat wise as well. However, it's very straight forward and not too much room for interpretation, emotion, or any real whimsy, which I found a bit disappointing. However, the book did have a bust that was treated pretty accurately and even is a plot development. Here's an exert. 

Some context, Bin is a father in his (I think?) early 40's at the oldest, and Ma is one of the leaders who treated Bin with disrespect, which lead to this scene. 

---

Bin was struggling to free himself, shouting, "Help! Help! They're kidnapping me! Save my life!"

People stood up, and some were coming over to watch.

"Who kidnapped you?" Ma cried, pulling Bin closer. He was so outraged he hit him in the crotch with his knee. 

"Oh!" Bin dropped to the floor, gasping and moaning. He was lying on his back with both hands covering his crotch, his legs stretching out in the shape of a flock of flying geese."

---

The scene goes on. Ma and the other leader, Liu, were unsure on how to handle this crippled man. They thought he was faking paralysis, but it was discussed later that Bin felt he would pass out and his testicles were bruised from this. Ma tried to pinch Bin's cheek, but he couldn't do anything but groan. Then, the other leader got tired of this and literally sat down on Bin's face, as he was crippled from nut pain. Here's an exert from that. 

---

Under Liu's weight, the rims of Bin's glasses snapped, and a lens fell out on the cement floor. Ma stepped forward and ground it to bits with his leather heel. Bin couldn't breathe and stopped making noise, feeling his limbs grow numb as though they were no longer his own. Liu's bottom, smelling of onion, was so heavy that Bin realized he would faint in a few seconds if he didn't take action, So he wiggled his head a little and took a big bite.

"Ah!" Liu jumped up, apparently crippled. With his right hand covering his hip, he was hobbling away and screaming "Oh, my butt. He bit my butt!" His forefinger pointed back at Bin while the palm was rubbing his hip. 

Ma kicked Bin in the thigh and motioned to his men. "Get him out of here."

They lifted Bin's upper body and dragged him to the entrance, while Bin kept shouting, "They broke my balls and glasses!"

---

And they go back to this scene many times, as Bin has to describe what happens to other people to portray the corruption, and how poorly he's been treated. It gets brought up pretty often, and I enjoyed reading about ballbusting in a more serious and realistic light, compared to what I happen to come across on the webs. Maybe not the hottest, but it made the story more enjoyable to me, and the overall story wasn't a bad one to begin with. 

Above, a man known as Andrew Smith

There's also a few story's by Andrew Smith (above!) that have ballbusting in them. I found these stories more enjoyable when I read them, when compared to In the Pond, as they are more focused on teenage romance which, don't be surprised now, is something I'm interested in. One in the book "Grasshopper Jungle" (which I really enjoyed a lot) and Winger (which I enjoyed less so, but was still super pleasurable.) To begin, the only bust I recall from Grasshopper Jungle. It was in the beginning, with a friend and his friend chilling when 4 bullies come by and ask if they could borrow their skateboards. A beat down followed when the 2 friends oh so rudely declined to let them share, and the following occurred. I took out some of the middle bit, but the idea and everything is still there. 

---

We got beaten up by Grant Wallace, Tyler, and some other kid who smelled like he had barf on his sleeves, while the fourth kid filmed it with his cell phone. 

Oh, and extra credit in history: You should never wear loose mesh basketball shorts and boxer underwear if you're going to get kneed in the balls. Just so you know for the future. 

...

I was curled up on my side, cupping my nuts, while the Sleeve of my black Orwells T-shirt adhered to some gooey piss stain on Grasshopper Jungle's asphalt. 

...

"Are you hurt?"

"Balls. Knee. Boxers."

"Oh. Um."

"There's blood on your Spam. "

"Shit."

---

Pretty decent stuff for sure. The busting speaks for itself, but I want to take this moment to really pound in that I really enjoyed this book. I felt Smith did a pretty good job at talking about romance among teens in a unique environment, and without spoiling much more, it's not just heterosexual romance either. I really enjoyed this book, and I think a lot of you would enjoy reading this book. Again, it's not a perfect book or anything, but I really enjoyed reading it and found myself attached to the kids. Grasshopper Jungle by Andrew Smith. 

Now, onto Andrew Smith's other story, Winger. Winger has a few of nut shots, and I'll transfer 2 of them here. However, there are a pretty hefty amount of mentions of balls and ball shots, and descriptions and whatnot, so I do recommend you get a hold of this book if you're really curious. It's pretty worth it, and not a bad read at all (although Grasshopper Jungle felt more quality to me.) This, or Grasshopper Jungle are good places to start if you don't read much. This one more so if you're interested in a High School environment, boys being boys, for better or for worse, and a lot of mentioning of testicles. 

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One of the funniest things I ever saw happened when Seanie first started playing after he'd quit the basketball team. Since Seanie was so tall and skinny, Coach M wanted us to try and lift him in lineout practice. A lineout is when the ball gets thrown in from out of bounds and players can lift up a teammate (by his shorts, usually) so he can reach the ball. Well, Seanie, at the time, was just wearing boxers under his shorts, rather than compression shorts, and when the forwards lifted him, he said it felt like his balls ended up in back of his nipples. His eyes bugged out, his hands both went right down to his crotch, and he said, 

"Ohmyfuckinggod!" Of course, the ball just sailed past him. He had other things on his mind. 

And he never came back to the pitch without some tight compression shorts on under everything."

---

Not bad at all, right? Here's another one, one that's a bigger part of the story, and a bit longer. But well worth the read!

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In rugby, when you’re tackled, you have to let go of the ball. Usually, you do it in a way that makes it easy for your own teammates to pick it up. But when I released the ball, no one was there to get it, so Seanie stepped right over me and poached the ball away for his team. 

And the terrible thing is, right when he stepped through, he planted his foot between my legs. 

Yeah. 

Like the world wasn’t big enough for Seanie to find somewhere else to put his fucking foot. 

And that’s how Sean Russell Flaherty, my good friend, the same guy who contrived so many Internet hoaxes about so many people, the same guy who’d told Annie Altman, the girl I am insanely in love with, that I got drunk with Chas Becker the night before school began, that same guy, wearing size twelve metal cleats, stepped right onto my balls. 

I became a black hole. 

Let me explain the physics of having your balls stepped on. 

The entire Ryan Dean West universe instantly collapsed to the size of a five-eighths-inch metal cleat stud, and everything I knew, everything I would ever know, got sucked into that pinpoint of agony. 

Newton obviously skipped that one crucial law. 

When my hearing came back, I heard Seanie saying, "Uh-oh." 

And I’m pretty sure that everyone in the Pacific Northwest heard Ryan Dean West shout, "YOUSTEPPEDONMYFUCKINGNUTSYOUSONOFABITCH!" 

Yes, I will admit to cussing that time. 

My universe gradually began expanding, but so did the agony. I could think again, and the thinking led to a heightened sensation of pain, if there could be such a thing, and a frightening realization, too. 

Mrs. Singer. 

Catastrophic penis injury. 

You have got to be fucking kidding me. 

I must be out of my mind. 

And as I lay on my side, in the fetal position, hands clutching for what I could only imagine in my most horrific visions had been damaged beyond salvation, my teammates formed, for the second time in the past twenty-four hours, a mournful and morbidly fascinated circle around me. 

"He’s dead," one of them said. 

"If he isn’t dead, he should kill himself immediately," another added. 

"Did you really step on his nuts?" A third one. 

I tried to answer them, but the only sound I could make sounded something like ehhhhrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgggh, and, shuddering, lying there with my face in an expanding puddle of mud, I realized I couldn’t unclench my jaw. 

Coach M blew his whistle to break practice. 

I rolled onto my back in the mud, my face turned up into the rain, eyes blurred, scanning the darkness of the clouds for the giant face of a mocking God who might be up there laughing at my stitched-and-stomped-on-skinnybitch-ass. 

"Not exactly the best two days of your life, eh, Ryan Dean?" Coach tried to smile, looking down at me, rain dripping from the brim of his hat. “Can you move?” 

And Seanie fell beside me, trying to help sit me up. 

But he was kind of laughing when he said, "Dude, my bad, Ryan Dean. And I know you’ve probably waited all your life to hear another guy say this to you, but, dude, how are your balls?"

And, all at once, I somehow instantly composed a haiku in my mind about how much I hated Seanie Flaherty, and, in a simultaneous flash of inspiration, derived a kind of mathematical, tautological formula about reality, that I could easily envision as a Venn diagram: 

Finding Humor in Getting Hit in the Balls = The Universe Minus One 

Seanie helped me to my feet. My head was groggy, my eyes swirled with tears of pain, and I felt like throwing up. The other guys were already making their way into the locker room and the warmth of the showers. 

I slipped my hand down inside my compression shorts, just to make sure everything was still attached properly. Something stung, and when I pulled my hand out and looked at my fingers, there was blood on them. 

Crap.

---

So yeah, that were a couple busts from Winger. A fun book, that I'm glad was recommended to me, because it definitely kickstarted my dive into art and literature. Everyone needs to find a good access point so they feel comfortable diving in, and Winger was that access point for me. Goes to show you what a good teacher who understands his students can do. 


So, I hope you guys enjoyed! If you've read any books recently, feel free to share them, with or without busts! I'm always looking to expand my library.