Strip Snap

Ballbusting Story: Strip Snap, by GrggyCascade 12-23-2011

"This is a story I started writing after several months of being a member of this great site, in the hopes that it constitutes 'giving something back'. It draws its influence from 'Cards for Kicks', in my mind the greatest Bb story ever written, and as such, contains castration and brother-sister themes. If that's not your thing, best to steer clear. This is the first part of the story, which is largely intro; you can skip it if you want to get straight to the story proper."

* * * *

It began and ended with a game of strip poker. Just me and a girl named Maddy who I'd been wanting to fuck for God knows how long.

She looked like my very definition of a hot girl; not too tall or short, long, blonde hair, fantastic legs toned from dancing and martial arts, an awesome rack obviously, and this really angelic face that I could easily imagine blowing a load onto. She also had this really sweet, innocent sort of personality. While that may seem a pretty fucking big obstruction to my admittedly poorly-conceived (and, in retrospect, executed) 'nail this chick' plan.

I knew there wasn't a nut that wouldn't crack, given enough persistence. At least I thought I did; I was a virgin then, to be honest. At nineteen years old. Anyway, I was getting to be pretty desperate, which may explain why I was trying so hard to get into the pants of a girl so far out of my league, who acted like she didn't know the difference between underwear and a chastity belt.

Another flaw in my plan was that Maddy clearly didn't like me very much; maybe she thought I was a wiseass or something, but she was always acting really snooty around me. That was actually another thing that really turned me on about Maddy; I have kind of a thing for slightly posh birds. Always makes the eventual conquest that much more satisfying, or so I assumed.

You may then be wondering how a girl who seemed fairly damn unlikely to be having sex at any time in the near future ended up playing such an erotically charged game of strip poker with a guy who was extremely damn unlikely to be having sex at any time in the near future, or ever. As you may be unsurprised to learn, I had a plan.

See, while she may have hated my guts, Maddy had a pretty major crush on this friend of mine called Mark, which had me sort of devastated for about five minutes before I realized I could put this to my advantage. You see, Mark and I, and a couple of other guys and girls had this regular poker night, where we'd all get together and – you guessed it. We alternated houses, and this week I was hosting. When my two housemates told me they were both going home for the weekend on account of a sick dog and dead uncle respectively, I twiddled my imaginary moustache and laughed pretty fucking evilly for a good two minutes.

What I did was, I invited Maddy to our little poker night and – casually – mentioned that Mark would be there. I mean, I really was casual about it – I sort of let it drop in a 'you know so-and-so, right?' kind of way. I definitely didn't want her to know that I knew about her thing for Mark, in spite of it being basically public knowledge at that point; she was genuinely the kind of girl who'd never admit to having any feelings remotely sexual in nature, at least not to a sarcastic bastard like myself who'd not waste two seconds in making fun of her about it.

Phase two in my plan was to wait til Friday, the night before, then to ring up everyone who was coming except Maddy and tell them I couldn't host this weekend, as I had to go home on account of my dog being sick and my uncle being dead, and we'd have to have the thing at my place the following weekend. I figured the next weekend would be the perfect time to tell them all about the hot, wet, incredibly brief, sex I would doubtless be having this weekend. It was the perfect plan, as far as my sex-driven brain was concerned.

Anyway, for the first hour or so after Maddy came over, I had a hell of a time convincing her the others really were coming, honest and truly. I knew this would be the most dangerous phase of my plan; luckily for me, however, several thousand years ago man discovered alcohol. My calculations were correct; despite being a first-year uni student Maddy wasn't much of a drinker, and she was tipsy as hell after her third rum and coke. At first I felt pretty bad, on account of calling them 'cuba libres' instead of rum and coke, until I figured it was pretty small game compared to playing on her feelings for a guy in order to trick her into coming to my house and, all being well, letting me do her.

In her somewhat inebriated state, she was far more amenable to the idea of a friendly game of strip poker that I could even have dared hope. The plan was going fantastically; I was already guessing the colour of her panties and wondering whether she shaved her pussy or not. A small problem arose when it transpired that she couldn't actually play poker, and was too drunk to learn the rules. Which is how we ended up playing strip snap.

Anyway, this has all been an introduction, and a fairly fucking long one at that. Therefore, without

further ado let me regale you with the events of that fateful evening

We were sitting on the floor opposite one another, with the cards serving as something of a buffer zone. Maddy wasn't wearing anything you or I would call sexy; a simple jeans-and-long sleeve shirt affair that left too much to the imagination. I was however, in a spectacularly good mood at that exact moment as she was in the process of removing her top, me having won the third straight game of snap. Her inadequacies when it came to simplistic card games were not known to me beforehand, but had played spectacularly into my hands.

“Dear Lord, what voluptuous breasts!”

“What?”

“Nothing. Ready for the next game?”

Fast forward a quarter hour and the evening, and my guest, were looking ever better, assisted no doubt by copious amounts of alcohol and nudity. Maddy was down to nothing but her bra and panties. For my part, I'd managed to get this far losing nothing but my shirt and socks. Which, as it happened, was rather fortunate, given the raging boner my baggy jeans were doing a solid job of hiding. In all my short life I'd never been so aroused; Maddy clothed was a fucking hottie, but the sight of her with nothing covering her tits and cunt but a few inches of fabric defies my linguistic skills to convey. Relatively speaking her underwear was probably fairly modest, but to me she was at that the embodiment of sexy. It was also at that moment that the evening began its downswing.

“I give up.”

“Fair enough. Lose the underwear.”

“I never lost!”

“Them's the rules, babe.”

Now, at this point I should probably emphasize how drunk we both were. I wouldn't normally attempt to pressure a girl into stripping. No matter how hot. Even so, in my drunken state I was a little surprised at what she said next.

“Either you can drop this stupid game, or I can kick your ass.”

It was not only her violation of the general habit she made of frosting her every sentence with sickly-sweet rhetoric that surprised me; naturally the notion of this petite chick doing me any actual damage activated my male pride's 'derogation and scorn' response.

“Just how do you intend to do that?” She pursed her lips as she often did, giving her a slightly pouty, if determined, look. “I'm a blackbelt in three martial arts. Not only would I beat your ass, I'd probably do some...permanent damage.” Something about her pause, and the way her eyes flicked momentarily down from my face gave me cause for concern. Still, my pride was wounded, and my ego demanded satisfaction. “You're crazy.” She smiled.

“Close. I'm a girl. Which means I lack certain hindrances when I fight. Testicles for example.”

At this, I was speechless. Maddy didn't seem put out. “Kicking a guy in the balls is basic. But I've been doing martial arts for ten years; I could crush your testicles as easily as if they were grapes.” Her sheer dispassion enraged me, but she, apparently, wasn't done having her say. “Being a guy, I imagine you're rather attached to those things hanging between your legs. So... imagine how it would feel to lose them forever, in the most agonizing way imaginable. Now imagine, as you're lying on the floor, coughing up blood, clutching desperately at the useless mush that was once your manhood, in the worst pain any man has ever felt, knowing that the rest of your life will be one long, continuing misery; no testicles, no sex, no children. People would find out; everywhere you go they'd laugh at you behind your back, knowing there's nothing between your legs but an empty bag and a limp, useless penis. Now, imagine, from your pit of unfathomable pain, despair and humiliation, looking up and seeing a girl, one of the 'weaker' sex, smiling down at you, and knowing she's the reason your life is ruined. All because you just had to see my tits.”

It was the longest thing I'd ever heard her say. Also, the most terrifying. But my drunkenness was fast giving way to rage; her cockiness, her self-assuredness of inflicting this unimaginable pain and humiliation upon me – how dare she, I asked myself.

“Bullshit!” Again she smiled. Strange how her smile, once the epitome of hot in my eyes, was fast becoming a thing to be feared and shunned. “Come on. You act like I've never ruptured a guy's testicles before.” My blood ran like liquid ice. I'm not sure why; I had never really believed she was lying, I just didn't want to. Now, suddenly, I could all too easily see those feet that lay not two feet from my own fragile genitals, crashing up between some guy's legs, cracking his balls open like eggs. My terror was reflected in my voice, which came out in a hoarse whisper.

“Whose?”

“My brother's.” Of course. Nothing surprised me now. “Well, he's not really my brother any more since he's not really a guy any more.” She giggled to herself. “He made the mistake of underestimating me as well. We were fighting over something stupid. I was always careful to go easy on him; he may have been a twat but even I couldn't bear putting him through the humiliation of explaining to our parents how his little sister kicked his testicles into pulp.” In spite of my abject terror, I found myself hanging on her every word. “Well, I landed a kick to his groin. Turns out I kicked him a bit harder than I meant to; he went down, screaming and holding his balls. Obviously I had to check on him. I managed to get his hands away from his crotch, and pull his trousers and boxers off, but then...” She smiled to herself at the memory. “...then, well, his little dick flopped out. I mean, I was only fifteen at the time; I'd never seen a guy's cock before, but he was two years older than me, and I knew they were meant to be bigger than, like, two inches flaccid. Anyway, I tried not to laugh, but I couldn't help it. I guess girls had laughed at his tiny dick before, 'cause he jumped up, still naked from the waist down, and called me a fucking whore. He slapped me across the face, and I just lost it. I grabbed both his testicles and just started squeezing as hard as I could. He was screaming so loud, and I was yelling that I was gonna crush his little balls, that he was gonna be sterile, that his pathetic excuse for a dick would never work again, not that it mattered... Finally I had him up against the wall; he was begging like a bitch for me to let go, screaming that he needed his balls, that he'd do anything. It was too late though; I let go his nuts and slammed my knee between his legs as hard as I could. It was so easy; I felt his testicles turn to jelly without any resistance at all. I had his arms pinned against the wall and I just kept smashing my knee into his empty scrotum, screaming about how he was a eunuch now, how his little sister ruined his manhood, about how pathetic he was, with a tiny dick and a sack full of mush... I just left him there, naked, screaming and crying in a pool of his own blood and vomiting for my parents to find. I still don't know what he told them; God knows he wasn't going to let them know it was me who burst his little balls. If he told them, I'd tell everyone, and what little scrap of dignity he had left would be gone. Still, it all worked out; I started a rumour about his lack of equipment; a bunch of girls kegged him in PE class and 100 guys and girls saw not only his little dick, but the sad flap of skin that was once his manhood.``

My brain, at this point, was functioning only on some basic information processing level; whether it was that or the gleam in Maddy's eye, the way she was breathing a little heavier, I have no idea. What I did know was that I had absolutely no doubt that this sweet, innocent girl was perfectly capable of brutally castrating her own brother for no good reason whatsoever. “My God!” I managed to croak.

“Yeah, I almost felt bad for him. I can't even imagine the pain of having one's testes liquified, nor the humiliation of having it done by one's own younger sister. And with such ease. Still, at least he learned that actions do have consequences. Sometimes those consequences involve the cutting short of your genetic line.

Needless to say, I'd never been so glad of my vagina. Well, except for when I fingered myself that night; my brother was at the hospital, and just the thought of what I'd done, the memory of feeling his balls explode, the thought of the doctors slicing his sack open and draining out the remains of his little testicles, imagining the look on his face when the nurse confirms his worst fears; sterility, no more sexual pleasure, ever... It all just got me so hot, I couldn't help myself. Besides, I figured at least one of us should get to come that night. God, that was the best orgasm I ever had. My ex-brother could never have given a woman that kind of pleasure, not with that little thing between his legs. Honestly, I feel like I did womankind a favour by rendering him useless.” It was obvious how caught up she'd become in her own story; she wasn't even bothering to hide her partial nakedness anymore. Her legs were splayed open, giving what on literally any other occasion would have been a world-class view, and from the way she was breathing her boobs looked fit to burst out of her bra at any moment. Returning, apparently, to the house which suddenly seemed far too empty for my liking, she fixed me with the deadliest smile I've ever seen, and said, “So, them's the rules. I lose my underwear, you lose something far more precious and altogether permanent.”

-----------------------

The boundless horrors of One Man One Screwdriver paled into a mild discomfort compared to what I felt at that moment; not since the release of that song Friday had I felt such a turbulent melée of rage, confusion and sheer, immeasurable terror whirling down in my lower intestine and sending me into some primal, Family Guy-esque gurgitation of irrelevant pop-culture references. Here was a girl who, not ten minutes ago, had been in my eyes the very picture of innocence, even frigidity, now sitting half-naked on my floor, graphically recounting her masturbation to the memory of shattering her own brother's testes. Next she'd tell me she wasn't even a virgin.

That covers the terror and confusion. But I could also feel the undeniable rumblings of nerdrage building down inside; just who the fuck was this bitch to so casually strip a guy of his manhood, and derive some kind of twisted sexual pleasure? Just who the fuck was she to think she could do the same to me? This fucking petite bitch? I became aware of the bond I suddenly, inexplicably felt with Maddy's brother; truly, I thought, this (former) man is more my brother than hers. Still, on top of that was the suspicion that my identifying so strongly with that pathetic virgin4life was not necessarily a good thing. Not to mention that chance possibility that Maddy hadn't been exaggerating her nut-busting capabilities; best, I thought, not to risk losing my balls over some fucking eunuch I'd never even met.

“You're a fucking evil bitch,” I said.

That, in retrospect, was the moment things really took a turn for the worse.

“Excuse me?” Maddy asked after a beat, raising one eyebrow and fixing me with a hard stare from behind the curtains of blonde hair that cascaded downwards. I suspected I may have blundered. Still, too late to go back now, I thought. “What the fuck is the matter with you? You think a guy's balls are the kind of things you can just break when you feel like it? Just kick into a fine paste at the drop of a hat?”

“Yup.”

“That's a guy's manhood we're talking about! Half the fucking reason a guy draws breath is for what's in his pants; you think you can just take that away? What's more, you have the audacity to come into my house and threaten to do it to me? I've half a mind to tear the ovaries right out of you!”

It was her turn for speechlessness; her voice clearly stolen away by an overload of conflicting emotion. Either that or she was considering the best way to emancipate me from my burdensome masculinity.

“And what's more,” I ranted. “Two inches flaccid is only small compared to your massive vagina, you whore.” I barely knew what I was saying by this point; most likely I was just spouting whatever asinine gibberish came to mind because I knew that silence would probably be the death knell for my testicles.

“I've ruptured balls for less than that,” Maddy said in a slow, quiet voice. “My brother was a twat; given the chance I'd gladly castrate him again, and a hundred times more. However: I am willing to put this stunning display of arrogance and stupidity down to masculine empathy. As I said, I can hardly imagine what having your testicles crushed must feel like; you, however, probably have some inkling. In light of this, and only this, I give you this one and only chance to apologize.”

This, my friends, gave me considerable pause for thought. Was I to sacrifice my manhood, speaking figuratively, by effectively begging for mercy from this girl? Or was I to have it taken away, speaking agonizingly literally, by continuing down this one-way road to potential sterility?

“I think this has gone far enough,” I said. “Maybe you should just get the fuck out of my house.”

“Maybe you should just make me,” said Maddy. “And if that's your idea of an apology, perhaps you don't value what's in your pants as much as your angry little speech had me believe. Perhaps,” and here, the iciness of her face cracked into the slightest of smirks, “the loss of what's in your pants would be, let's say, a lesser loss, quantitatively speaking, than it would be to most guys.”

I leaped to my feet. “What the fuck is that meant to -” I shouted.

“Sit down,” she ordered. I sat down. She smiled. “This has given me such a great idea,” she said, putting a cloying, girlish emphasis on the such. She seemed suddenly the very definition of feminine innocence. “Why don't we,” she said, drawing out the last word, “play sudden death?”

I nearly died, and suddenly. Did she mean what I thought? “Do you mean what I think?” I asked.

“One round,” she replied. “The loser loses all their clothes.” Holy shit. “Holy shit,” I said. “No way.”

“Why not?” she asked, poutingly. “I know you want to see what's in here...” brushing one hand across her breasts, the other across her crotch. She grinned. “Unless... you're afraid, for some reason. All that talk of my brother's little willy got you red-faced?” The truth was, it did; I'd never had my penis laughed at by a girl before, and I didn't mean to start with one who could ensure I never used it again.

I sure did want to see what was in there, though.

“Well... Why not?” I said. I'd been winning all night, and she still seemed a little drunk. I figured I could salvage something from this doomed endeavour, at least. She drew the first card from the top of her pile, and we started playing. The king of clubs went down, followed by the nine of hearts. Then the three of diamonds; the five of clubs; the jack of diamonds; the seven of spades; the queen of hearts; the nine of diamonds; the king of clubs; the ace of spades; the ace of hearts. From my kneeling position I lunged triumphantly at the pile of cards, arm outstretched. Maddy's barefoot lashed out, catching me square in the groin. “Snap, crackle, and pop, bitch,” she said.

The pain was awful. I curled into a desperate ball and fought the urge to vomit. Words like 'burst,' 'rupture,' and 'sterile' kept running through my head.

“Aww... Looks like you lost, Johnny boy,” I heard, from somewhere through the fog of pain. I could envisage the pouting, pseudo-concerned look she must surely be wearing. “And I want my prize. Now, stand up, or I really will burst your berries.” I don't remember getting to my feet, but somehow I was there, albeit precariously. “Oh, you're fine,” she snapped. “I didn't feel anything pop. Stop clutching your little balls and give up the clothes.” I was wearing only a loose-fitting pair of shorts, and under those, boxers. There was no choice.

Reluctantly and achingly, I awkwardly maneuvered my shorts down my legs and kicked them over to where Maddy was sitting. Then I dropped my boxers. There was a moment of silence.

“Oh, wow,” said Maddy. A smile began to form. “No wonder you're in this position. You've been letting your dick do the thinking, and there's so little of it.” She shuffled on her backside over to where I was standing, then fell languidly backwards, letting her right leg drift lazily up into the region of my crotch. “I could burst them so easily,” she said in a sultry whisper. “Just a couple of kicks would do it; then they'd be gone. Would you like that, little Johnny? Want to have two ruptured testicles? It's not like you could be any more useless to a woman.”

This had gone far enough, I decided. In one movement I swept her foot aside and leaped backwards out of her reach, painfully aware of the ridiculous flapping of my genitals. All through this performance, Maddy didn't make a move; then she moved faster than I could have believed, but not in the expected direction. I instantly put myself into my idea of a fighting stance, ready to protect my throbbing testicles from the onslaught. However, none was forthcoming; in fact, she seemed to be holding...

“Oh God, no,” I said hoarsely.

“Smile, little boy,” said Maddy, and snapped a picture with my phone. I threw myself across the room with savage abandon, only to be intercepted by a ruthless groin kick that laid me out on the floor, gasping for air and fighting the overwhelming urge to die. “That one had to hurt,” I heard Maddy say, from someplace miles away. “Still, probably not as badly as having every girl you know get a look at your little willy.”

“Noooo...” I croaked. I felt my balls; they were already noticeably swollen, but thankfully intact.

“The best part is, they'll think you sent it to them, you sick pervert. They'll be lining up to kick whatever's left between your legs into jelly. Now, who's first... Ah, Sophie; that's your sister, right? I think we should let her know what a disgusting individual her brother is, don't you?”

What little of what she had just said that registered with me was sufficient to spur me into one last, desperate, action; from where I was lying, I lurched upwards and forwards, swinging my arms wildly in a last-ditch effort to save my remaining dignity. I knew my testicles were completely exposed, but I had to get that phone. Now, Maddy was still lying in a v-shape; I would have to get almost on top of her if I was to have any chance of grabbing the phone before the worst happened. This would leave my balls vulnerable to terrible damage, but it was all-or-nothing time.

At the last moment, I sidestepped Maddy, seizing both her legs in my right arm while lunging in with my left; the phone was within my grasp when I felt vicelike fingers enclosing my naked balls. I looked from the phone to Maddy's face, on which was fixed an impish grin. She pressed a button.

“Sent,” she said, without breaking eye contact. Silence reclaimed us both; I, too shocked to talk, too fearful for my manhood to make a move; she, squeezing my testes ever tighter, enjoying my pain too much to say a word.

Maddy, and not my balls, was the first to break. “Quite the predicament, this,” she said. Nothing, I said. “And an example of Darwinism in motion,” she continued. “Clearly, guys as poorly endowed as you are genetically programmed to have little regard for your reproductive capabilities. Thus, via situations such as these, the puny ones are weeded out, leaving only real men left to pass on their superior genetics.” I thought it better not to correct her tentative grasp of evolutionary theory, so very erudite was her grasp on something far dearer to me.

My phone rang. I feebly reached for it, but Maddy pulled it out of reach, and applied even greater pressure to my rapidly flattening nuts. Slowly, she raised it to her ear, all the while staring me straight in the eyes.

“Hello..? Oh, hi Sophie... This is Maddy; I'm here with John... I know... Don't ask me; he must have sent it to every girl whose number he has... No, I calmed him down... You don't want to know... No, really... Well, my feet and his testicles were involved; does that make it clear..? Well, he's conscious... You want to? Fine, I'll put you on speaker.”

She held the phone flat in her palm. For the briefest of moments I allowed myself to indulge the crazed fantasy that she had been putting the whole thing on. Then my older sister's voice came out of the speaker.

“John, are you there?” I looked pleadingly at Maddy. She squeezed my balls.

“I'm here, I'm here,” I replied, my voice far higher-pitched than I'd imagined it being.

“John, would you mind telling me why you just sent me a naked picture of yourself?” Once more I made eye-contact with Maddy. Redoubled testicular pain was my reward. Pop, she mouthed. “That wasn't meant for you,” I said desperately.

“No, I can see that,” came the reply. “Well; never mind that for now. Is it true this girl kicked you in the groin?” I didn't look at Maddy, but she squeezed my balls harder anyway.

“Yes,” I squealed.

“And are you okay? Have you... checked yourself out? You're sounding a bit high-pitched.”

“I'm – arghh – I'm fine, I'm fine.”

“Are you sure?” She sounded concerned. “Your testicles are very vulnerable, you know, and you only have two. If they're damaged...”

“Soph, please,” I said, frantically trying to bring the conversation to an end.

“No, listen to me John; a serious blow can rupture your testicles. If that happens, they'll have to be removed, and then your willy won't ever work again. You'll never be able to have another erection, which means no babies for you. And Mum and Dad may want grandkids someday.” This was almost as excruciating as the pain in my balls. Almost. “Soph, they're fine,” I hissed through gritted teeth. “Well, just be sure. We must remove a testicle a week at the hospital, and it's never pretty. Three days ago it was some kid, barely turned sixteen, whose little sister had gotten a little carried away. We had to remove both his testicles, and I was the one who had to tell him. His mother and sister were there, and every time his mother wasn't looking, his little sister would start smiling and rubbing her hand between her legs... I'd just hate to find you in one of my hospital beds and have to give you the news that you'd never be a man again”

Never one for hysterics, my sister.

“Sophie, my balls are fine; they're intact. Now would you please just go?”

“Okay, as long as you're sure. Just don't you be sending me any more pictures, otherwise I will be telling you you'll never be a man again, right before I burst your testicles myself!”

There was a hint of a smile in her voice; I knew I was off the hook. “Sure Soph; sorry about that.”

“That's fine. Look after those balls of yours, little brother. Oh, and John... If you're going to flash your junk about, make sure you've got something to show off, dude. I'm not sure that thing could ever make me an Aunt, even with two functioning testicles behind it. Stick to wanking, little bro. Ta-ra!”

“That was embarrassing,” said Maddy, and she was right. Fortunately, I didn't really appreciate this at the time; unfortunately, it was because my balls were enclosed in her slowly contracting fist. But then, you don't need me to tell you that, do I? I just told you. It's not like it's been years since...

Anyways,

“Aaaack,” I said, and I was right.

“Now,” said Maddy. “That's no way to beg for your balls.”

“Aaaaaaaaacccckkkkk,” I said.

“Don't you care if you can't get hard anymore?” she asked. I affirmed, monosyllabically, that I very much did.

“Maybe we should call my brother.” She scrunched her eyebrows, pursed her lips. “Ask him what it feels like to get neutered. Then, he couldn't beg good either, so he's probably no help to you. Wow,” cycling through the numbers, “you have everybody's number on this thing.”

Her legs were free now; my having long since let them go. Maddy suggested calling my mother.

“I could hold the speaker right to your sack, and let her listen to the sound of her son's nuts popping.” Through pain and tightened teeth, I managed,

“No,” but the phone begged to differ.

“This really isn't your day,” Maddy opined, looking at the phone's screen, and turning it upwards towards me. 'Mum,' it said.

“Well, shit,” Maddy said. “I can hardly crush your nuts in cold blood. The moment's just dragged on too long, now. But I can't let you get away with this.” She pondered, while my phone continues ringing.

“It's been a night of games,” she decided. “So, apropos, here's what ah propose. Talk to your mum. Fob her off. Make her believe nothing's wrong, and I consider,” she raised her index finger, and pouted again, “consider letting you keep your manhood.” I nodded. “I'm going to release your balls now,” she said. “And you are to sit with your legs spread, and answer your mother. Deviate from my instruction, and I pulp your balls. Give your mother any impression other than this is just your typical Friday night of loneliness and lechery, and I pulp your balls. Are we agreed?”

I didn't answer, since it wasn't a question. She let go my nads, and I collapsed onto my rear end. Maddy came up so where were sitting opposite one another, and kicked my legs open, placing her feet close to my balls. It was the same situation in which we'd found ourselves so recently. The whole thing happened within the span of a second. I naturally grabbed for my groin; the pain was intensifying now they were released, lancing up into my abdomen. They looked horribly swollen.

Maddy kicked my hands away with one foot. She forcibly handed me the phone.

“Got to be a couple of rings left only,” she said, smiling. “Best to answer while you're still a baritone.”

Ignoring – well, that was impossible; but anyway – the savage pain in my mangled testicles, I answered.

“Hello,” I said, trying to be a baritone.

“Hello!” My mother's effervescent, relatively youthful, voice. “Are you alright, love? You're sounding terribly high-pitched.”

I looked imploringly at Maddy. She made a crushing motion with one fist.

“I, ah... No! Get your foot – Sorry, mum. What I meant was, I... walked into a door handle.”

“Oh, no!”

“Yeah.”

“Are you saying you've injured your... parts?”

“Not injured, mum; just...”

“Are you sure?” my mother says. “Your... testicles are very delicate, John. And they can't be replaced. If they get damaged, you understand that your willy won't work anymore.”

“Damnit, Mum! I mean... yeah. Sophie walked me through the particulars.”

Maddy was almost holding her sides in from laughter.

“Oh, dear. You talked to Sophie? I hope she didn't say anything to unnerve you, John. Some of the stories she tells me...”

“Yes, I got some -”

“... mostly involving sisters and their brothers, would you believe it. It makes me glad I taught your sister from a very young age how weak are male genitalia. I took care to remind her constantly how easy it would be for her to hurt, or even permanently damage you...”

“Yes, mum; I was usually there.”

“... easily she'd be able to make it so you could never have children. And believe you me, she needed reminding!”

“Well, mum, we don't need to – Aaaarrgghh! - I mean to say; what d'you mean by that, mum?”

With my free hand, I was trying to extricate Maddy's foot from my crotch. Goddamn my family, I might have thought, had I been capable of such needless verbosity.

“Well, all of the times she used to kick your balls, of course. You must remember. I did my best with that girl. But it seemed almost like, whenever I explained to her about how testicles can burst, and how exquisitely painful and humiliating this is for a boy, she went ever more out of her way to attack your tender bits... Oh, are you sure they aren't damaged, John?”

“I'm sure.”

“Maybe it wouldn't hurt to... send a picture of them to Sophie? She sees this kind of injury all the time, and could probably tell right away, if -”

At this point, Maddy couldn't hold back a choked shout of laughter; but my mother was underway.

“...wouldn't mind.”

“Mum. There's slim to no chance of that happening.”

“Oh, but it's nothing she hasn't seen before, darling. And I do mean that. Remember all the times she used to bust you when you were naked?” A chuckle on the end of the line. “She must have seen your willy and your testicles half a dozen times. So have I, for that matter, since I was always having to make sure she hadn't broken anything down there.”

Maddy, bent almost double; breathless and slicing the air with both hands. 'Stop,' she was mouthing.

“Ma, I'd love to reminisce,” I said. “But I have to go, damnit.”

“Well... promise me you'll get your testicles checked if they... swell, or, anything..? Won't you, love?”

“Bye, Mum. It's been excruciating, as per.”

I hung up, and turned off and threw away the phone.

We were in an interesting scenario, Maddy and me. I was naked, and she was laughing, which was something with which I'd come to terms. I was humiliated, and my balls were throbbing in electric convulsions of pain, and I was fast getting used to that. Maddy's foot, poised between my legs, ready to render me sterile, was something I still wasn't totally comfortable with.

When Maddy looked up, her cheeks were flushed and streaked with tears.

“You poor bastard,” she choked out; breasts, bouncing ebulliently. “You never had a chance, did you?”

I looked at her foot.

“To think you started this night hoping to get a look at my pussy,” she was saying.

I looked at her foot.

“With an upbringing like that, you'll be lucky to ever lay a girl,” Maddy was concluding. “Even if your sister didn't already sterilize you from kicking your little balls too much. I can't even imagine the issues you must have.”

I looked at her foot.

“Still, you did good,” she said. “I think there's just one more thing you can do for me, before I let you keep your balls.

“You have to beg me for them.” There was silence.

“Alright,” I said, quietly.

“What's that, little Johnny boy?”

“I said, alright.”

She cocked her head.

“That's no way to beg me. Now come on. Kneel, at least.” I knelt, inadvertently squashing my swollen balls between my own thighs, and yelping loudly. Maddy stood up.

“Now,” she said.

“Maddy,” I said, eyes fixated on a single point at her feet. She told me to look her in the eyes. I let my own travel up her legs, smooth and bare; past the crotch of her panties and her taught stomach; her gorgeous tits, and finally, her face. Dear God, but she was beautiful.

“Maddy,” I said. “Please let me keep my balls.” She made a sound like a buzzer.

“I already told you that's no good,” she snapped. “All you're doing is convincing me you don't think I really will crush your nuts. Do I have to disabuse you of that notion? Do you want me to crush one and make you beg for the other?”

“Please, don't do that, Maddy. I know you could easily destroy my balls. With one kick, you could make me a balless freak, who could never please a woman.”

“Even though...”

“Even though I could never please a woman anyway, with this pathetic dick between my legs. There's no reason for you to let me keep my testicles, since I'm so useless as a man; I'm entirely at your mercy.”

Maddy took my face in both her hands. She held my face in her hands, and my gaze in her own. She smiled. I smiled pathetically.

Then I felt a detonation of agony in my groin. There was a crunch. I keeled over onto my side, blind with pain and deaf with screaming. I could taste blood.

“That was a definite rupture!” I could barely hear Maddy shouting. “Nice try, Johnny, but not good enough! You realize you tried to **** me, John? You think I'd ever let you keep your balls after that?”

I vomited over the cards; long forgotten and dispersed across the carpet. My legs were pressed together; my hands, clutching desperately at my ruined groin. There was clearly only one testicle remaining, along with some unsubstantial mush.

“I hope it was worth humiliating yourself, John! You're going to be a eunuch! Maybe when I fuck your friend Mark, you can listen to us coming and imagine you could ever give or feel that kind of pleasure.”

Then, my legs were being prised apart. They felt like water; I hadn't the strength to even resist. Then my arms; my limbs were pinned stelliform to the ground.

“Look at me, John,” I heard her say. I opened my eyes. Maddy was above me; spreading my legs with her own, and my arms with her hands.

“Please,” I began.

Her knee smashed into my groin, with an audible pop. My limbs contracted, throwing Maddy onto the floor. My hands flew to my scrotum, which was now nothing more than a sack of pulp. I was barely registering the implications; permanent sterility, no more sexual pleasure, ever...

But Maddy was shouting these things, over my screams and dry retchings.

“Nothing left between your legs,” she was yelling. “Feel free to call me from hospital and cry about being eunuch for the rest of your life. Which reminds me...”

The last conscious memories I have are of a series of electronic tones, and Maddy's voice.

“Hello, Sophie? No, me again... Well, you should really hear it from him... Just say, if it's nieces and nephews you want, you'd best hope for a medical miracle...” And my sister's, emanating out of some spot close to my head, where Maddy had left my phone, before flouncing, clothed once more, from the room; back to her innocent facade and real men.

“John? John..? Was that... your balls, John? Do you need... save them... can't be saved, John, and... sterile...”