When I was in the second grade, I learned that if you kicked boys in the balls, that they would cry and leave you alone. Well. Most of them. Some required several kicks.
And I knew that my brother nor any of the neighbors would ride my fabulous green girls bike because if they fell off, they would hit their balls on the sissy bar and possibly die.
As I got older I realized that balls were indeed magical things. If they got cold, they would snuggle up into the mans crotch, and when they got warm, they would hang low to cool off. Mother Nature obviously thought quite highly of these … balls. Better not touch them. They were delicate like eggs and could break under the slightest duress. They should also never be teased and not pleased because they could turn blue and … what? Fall off? They were also not a thing to be laughed at or mocked.
Then I started working as a Professional Dominatrix.
In the last ***teen years, I have smacked them, kneed them, dug my fingernails into them, pierced them with needles, tied them up, tied them down, tied weights to them, pinned them to butterfly boards, squished them in one of these (link probably not safe for work), electrified them, teased them until they were quite blue then locked them in a chastity cage and sent them home keeping the key, wrapped them as tight as can be in a long strip of latex and pulled the end to create a helicopter effect (and much screaming), stretched them, bounced them, whipped them, stepped on them, lit them on fire, and finally…. laughed at AND mocked them.
As it turns out, everything I was told about balls as a girl, was a lie. As it turns out, the only thing you shouldn’t do to them is twist them. That can cause real damage. Well. So can lighting them on fire, but I’m a professional and it was a controlled blaze.
What did you learn as a girl that you slowly, but surely, realized was a lie as you got older.