📰 BITE BACK Magazine: The Crotch-Kick Kid, All Grown Up

📰 BITE BACK Magazine: The Crotch-Kick Kid, All Grown Up

By Puzzleheaded-Run154

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Twelve years ago, we ran a piece on an 18-year-old girl named Olivia. She was a 5'2" Black Belt, already on the Wushu National Team, and her profile, which we’ve never forgotten, listed her "Favorite Targets" as: 1. Groin, 2. Solar Plexus, 3. Back of the Head. We were obsessed. Today, at 30, Olivia is a lead stunt performer and fight coordinator. We sat down with her to find out if she’s still as terrifying, and to ask the question we’ve been dying to know: did she ever... you know... get to use that favorite target?

BITE BACK: Olivia, welcome. We dug up your old profile. Did you know you were our hero at 18? Listing "Groin" as your number one favorite target is the most badass thing we’d ever read.

Olivia: (Laughs) I’m looking at it on my trailer wall. It’s pretty raw. I guess I was an edgy 18-year-old, but I wasn't wrong, was I? It’s a great target.

BITE BACK: So you made the dream happen. You're a professional stuntwoman. You get paid to fight.

Olivia: I get paid to make movie stars look like they can fight. My Wushu training was the perfect pipeline. All that acrobatic, high-performance style is what directors want for superhero movies. But my job isn't just to be a martial artist. It's to be an athlete who can get slammed into a fake wall 15 times, make it look like it's the first time, and not get hurt.

BITE BACK: Your old profile listed hook swords and the 3-section staff. Do you still play with those, or was that just a phase?

Olivia: They're what got me in the door. The industry calls them "exotics." Every director wants some weird, cool fight scene, and being the woman who can actually use a chain whip or double daggers without taking her own eye out? That’s my resume. That’s how you get hired.

BITE BACK: Okay, let’s get to it. You’ve worked in a male-dominated field, you’ve been a 5'2" woman walking around the world. We have to know. Have you ever, in a real-life situation, had to go full-force on a guy’s nuts?

Olivia: (Smiles) Oh god, yes. Of course. A great many times!

BITE BACK: A great many times?! Okay, we don't have all day, which is a tragedy. You have to give us... let's say, your top four. The greatest hits.

Olivia: (Leans in) Alright. Let's do it. Story One: The Classic. I was in my early 20s, after a late shift, walking to my car in a parking garage. I did everything right—keys between my fingers, scanning. But a guy stepped out from between two vans. He didn't say a word, he just grabbed me. Grabbed my jacket with both hands, pulling me toward him. There was no space, no time. My body just... did it. It wasn't a thought. As he pulled me in, I dropped my weight and I drove my knee up, hard. The sound was... I can't even... a SQUISH and a POP, all at once. A wet CRUNCH.

BITE BACK: And? And? What did it feel like?

Olivia: It’s not like hitting a pad. It was this... sickeningly soft, dense, wet impact. It’s graphic, but my kneecap connected, and I felt these two distinct, soft... orbs just... splooch. It was a horrible, wet CRACK. He didn't scream. It was this choked, gurgling, gagging sound... no scream, just a wet gasp. His hands flew open. He just... folded. He went down to the concrete, and I didn't stick around. I ran.

BITE BACK: (Wincing and grinning at the same time) My God. "Crushing two hard-boiled eggs." That crunch-pop sound... he probably won't be having any for breakfast. Or making any. Ever.

Olivia: Let's just say he made a very poor life choice, and I was his immediate, painful, karmic consequence.

BITE BACK: That gagging sound... I bet his voice went up a few octaves right then. After a splat like that, he’s probably a permanent soprano in the "I Fucked Around and Found Out" choir.

Olivia: He certainly won't be winning any 'Father of the Year' awards, that's for sure.

BITE BACK: Talk about a 'pop' quiz in anatomy. And he failed. Spectacularly.

Olivia: I think he dropped something. Oh, right. His entire lineage.

BITE BACK: God, this is when I'm just so grateful for our anatomy. It's such a relief not to have your entire operating system just... dangling by a thread.

Olivia: Right? It's their one, giant, glaring design flaw. That splat-thwack is a feature, not a bug!

BITE BACK: Okay, I've fanned myself. Give us Story Number Two.

Olivia: This one was different. At a crowded bar. I was just trying to get a drink, and this guy grinds up right behind me. I could feel... all of him. I tried to move, he follows, presses in again. Then he just... grabs my ass. A full, confident grab.

BITE BACK: The audacity. What did you do?

Olivia: I turned around, smiled right at him. "Did you just grab my ass?" He smirked, "What if I did?" So I said, "Then you get this." I've got a stunt performer's grip. I reached down and grabbed a handful of his jeans—right at the crotch. And I just... ripped. Downward. A loud RRRIIIP! sound. His zipper just BAM!... split. The whole seam gave way.

BITE BACK: (Gasps) No!

Olivia: Oh, yes. There was this awful ripping sound. He looked down, and his... entire package... his balls, his dick, everything... just... tumbled out with a wet little FLOP. His nuts just... smacked against his own thigh. He was just... exposed. He didn't sit. He shrieked, stumbled back trying to cover his new... ventilation... and fell right over a table with a CRASH. The bouncer came over, "What's wrong with him?" I just pointed and said, "I think he's having a wardrobe malfunction. He... blew a seam."

BITE BACK: You didn't just 'clap' him, you... unzipped him! Permanently!

Olivia: He was trying to show me his 'package,' so I just... unboxed it for him. In front of everyone. That flop was the big reveal.

BITE BACK: Talk about 'letting the boys out to play'! You ripped the fence down!

Olivia: He'll need more than a tailor; he'll need a... scrotum... stapler. After that BAM...

BITE BACK: He was trying to be a hard-ass, and you just... exposed him as a soft-ball... haver.

BITE BACK: That's one way to 'air out' a pervert!

Olivia: He'll think twice before 'flying' open again.

BITE BACK: He wanted to 'pop' his crotch, and you just... popped it open. That RRRIP-SPLAT was amazing.

BITE BACK: Okay, I am living for this. You're a public service. What's Story Number Three?

Olivia: This one was more subtle, but maybe more vicious. I was on a packed subway car, rush hour. This guy behind me... I could feel it. He was... pressing. That 'oh, it's so crowded' erection. That deliberate dick-push. I moved, he moved, pressing in again.

BITE BACK: The worst.

Olivia: I didn't have room for a knee or a rip. He was too close. So I just... reached back, like I was adjusting my bag. I got a good, firm handful of his entire... situation. His whole sac. And I just... pinched, twisted, and yanked. Hard. Upward. I heard his breath just hiss out. It was a silent THWUMP... just all the air leaving his body. I pulled his entire sac, testicles and all, up and out over the top of his waistband.

BITE BACK: (Shrieks) NO! You... fished them out?!

Olivia: (Winks) Like a little fleshy ornament. He was trapped by the crowd and the pain. He couldn't fight back. He couldn't even scream, just made this silent, weeping "O" face. His nuts were just... dangling over his belt, like a... splat... sad little accessory. The doors opened. He stumbled out onto the platform, frantically trying to... tuck his own balls back into his pants before anyone noticed. The doors closed.

BITE BACK: You didn't just 'juice' him, you... served him. On a platter!

Olivia: Gave him a new... 'belt accessory'. That sad little splat.

BITE BACK: He was trying to be a prick, and you just... put his balls in time-out. Outside his pants.

Olivia: That's not 'above the belt'... that's on the belt! That THWUMP really... elevated them.

BITE BACK: He'll never be able to 'tuck in' his shirt again without wincing!

Olivia: You 'hoisted' him by his own... scrotard.

BITE BACK: Talk about 'airing your dirty laundry' in public!

Olivia: That yank-and-splat was a new fashion trend: Scrotum á la Belt.

BITE BACK: Okay, one more. What's the most insane story?

Olivia: Oh, Story Four: The Shower. That was the most insane. It was at my old self-defense gym—an all-women's dojo. I was showering late after a sparring class. Last one, totally naked, water running, steam everywhere. The door opens. It was a guy in a maintenance uniform. He just stood there, blocking the exit. And he smiled.

BITE BACK: Holy shit.

Olivia: He's staring at me. And I'm just... there. Totally naked. I'm not a small woman, I'm athletic, I'm... voluptuous. I've got big, broad shoulders from Wushu and strong, thick legs. He’s probably seeing all that—the curves, my heavy, oscillating breasts, the soft skin—and thinking 'easy.' He's not seeing the engine under it. He's not seeing the Black Belt. He then unzipped his boiler suit, took it off, and hung it on a hook by the door. Like he owned the place. He was just in a gross t-shirt and pants. He took a step toward me and said, "Just be quiet..."

BITE BACK: I'm going to be sick. What did you do?

Olivia: He lunged to grab my arms. I was naked and wet, so I was slippery. I ducked under his grab, my breasts swinging with the motion, got inside his reach, and I threw a full-power, hip-torqued, boxing uppercut with a closed fist. Right into his nuts. The sound it made was... unreal. It was a THUD. A WHOMP. A sickening, percussive SQUOOSH. Like a cantaloupe hitting pavement. A wet, percussive SPLAT-CRUNCH. And this guy... he didn't gag. He didn't shriek. He just... projectile vomited. Instantly. All over himself, all over the shower wall. And then he shrieked. It was so loud the entire 7 PM jiu-jitsu class came running in.

BITE BACK: Oh my god. The cavalry!

Olivia: Exactly. So you have this scene: 20 women in BJJ gis standing in the doorway, staring. There's this guy, curled up on the wet tile, covered in his own puke, weeping and holding his ruined testicles. And me, standing there, completely naked, water dripping from my dangling breasts. My instructor, a total badass, brushes past the boiler suit he'd hung on the hook. A big envelope falls out of the pocket and spills. All over the wet floor. Photos. Dozens of them.

BITE BACK: No...

Olivia: Yep. Photos of us. In the shower. From the vents. Weeks of them. The mood changed. It went from 'what happened?' to fury. One of the purple belts just... grabs the waistband of his pants. Another girl grabs the other side. They just... yank. Ripped his pants and his shitty underwear right off him. He's now as naked as I am, but... significantly less dignified. And my instructor just looks down at him, then at his tiny, shriveled dick, and says, "All this trouble... for that? Pathetic." The other girls just started... laughing.

BITE BACK: A truly perfect, humiliating end.

Olivia: But it wasn't! The laughing... it must have broken his shame-spiral. He gets this rage look. He was a big guy, and clearly high on something. He struggles up, half-puking, and he roars. He lunges, not at me, but at my instructor, the one who insulted his dick.

BITE BACK: What?! The stupidest move in history!

Olivia: He lunged at a 4th-degree black belt... but he was strong. He was running on pure, psychotic rage. He threw her off like she was nothing. He was a real, credible threat. He swung and caught one of the other girls in the face, hard. We all just... saw red. He roared and went for another girl.

BITE BACK: Oh my god. What did you do?

Olivia: He was strong, but he was in a room with 20 women who train every day to handle bigger, stronger opponents. It wasn't a fight. It was... teamwork. It was a tactical problem. He threw off one girl, and another one landed a perfect heel-kick to his inner thigh. He buckled, and a third girl came in low and drove her knuckles into his already-ruined testicles. The SQUELCH was audible over his yelling. A real gushy POW. He shrieked, and that was the opening.

But he still wouldn't go down. He was a fucking berserker. He grabbed one of the smaller girls by her gi and threw her into the lockers. He was grabbing and swinging, and he was all rage. My instructor screamed, "Base! Take his base! Target! Only the target! Swarm him!"

It was chaos, but it was focused chaos. He was strong, but he wasn't '20-women-and-a-freshly-smashed-scrotum'-strong. Two girls went for his legs, just to get him off-balance. As he stumbled, another girl (our best striker) came in with a full, soccer-style punt to his groin. The THWACK... it echoed. Like a baseball bat hitting a water-balloon. A huge SPLAT. He screamed, a sound I will never, ever forget. But he still tried to get up, grabbing at people.

So, another girl did it. A BAM!. And another. A CRACK!. It was brutal, but he wouldn't stop. He was an animal. We had to end it. We just... took turns. It was a frenzied, justified, systematic dismantling. A symphony of SPLAT, THWACK, POW. One girl would smash a heel into his nuts. A CRUNCH. He'd roar, and another would kick him in the same spot. WHOMP! He was on the ground, but still fighting. So two women pinned his arms, another sat on his legs, and a fourth just... repeatedly... stomped her heel, hard, onto his groin. SPLAT. Over. SQUISH. And over. SPLAT-CRUNCH. Until he wasn't a threat.

And then, in that moment, as the steam was clearing and all I could hear was his whimpering, I felt this... intense tingling sensation. I looked down, and in all the steam and water, I realized... 'Oh.' My body was... reacting to the power. It wasn't just adrenaline; it was this... primal, physical rush of empowerment. A full-body response.

BITE BACK: (The interviewer's eyes go wide, and then a huge grin spreads across her face.) "Olivia. Are you saying...?" (Her eyes flick to the large purple dildo on the desk. Olivia follows her gaze, and then looks back at her, nodding happily with that same, knowing smile.)

Olivia: (Laughs) "I'm just saying... it was a very... empowering... experience. In every possible way. I mean, don't get me wrong, that's... not a regular Tuesday night for me. But the adrenaline... the power... I've never felt more like a fully-realized woman than in that moment."

BITE BACK: (Laughs, fanning herself with her notepad) "Is it hot in here, or is it just this story? My god, Olivia. I'm surprised there isn't more wet steam coming from between your legs right now, just remembering it."

Olivia: (Laughs) "Let's just say it's a very... vivid... memory."

BITE BACK: "Oh, I'll bet. So, do you... you know... relive that moment? When you're all alone? A little SPLAT-CRUNCH to get you through the day?"

Olivia: (Leans in with a devious smile) "When I'm alone, and even when I'm with my man. Much to his chagrin. He knows he can never really compete with that."

BITE BACK: "God, that's the hottest thing I've ever heard. You're our hero. Okay, now what happened? He's just... a puddle?"

Olivia: We all just stood there, breathing hard, covered in... well, him.

"Is he... done?" one of the white belts asked, still shaking.

"Nobody goes near him," my instructor ordered. "One of you, call 911. The rest of us... we're not letting him move."

The guy groaned, and we all flinched. He was still trying to get up.

"Oh, hell no," one of the purple belts said. "He's not getting up. Somebody grab that utility hose."

There was a long, coiled-up cleaning hose on the wall. Two of the girls grabbed it.

"We can't let him get up," my instructor said. "He's too strong. Tie his hands and feet."

So they did. They trussed him up like a Christmas turkey. They looped the hose around his ankles, pulled them up to his wrists, and tied them off. He was completely, utterly immobilized.

And then, once he was secure, once we knew it was over, the laughter started. It was hysterical. It was this crazy, tension-breaking sound. We were all looking at this... thing... trussed up on the tile in a puddle of his own vomit, his tiny, shriveled dick on display for God and everyone, and we just... lost it. We were crying with laughter. The cops showed up to find 20 women in gis and one naked woman, all laughing hysterically, pointing at a hog-tied, dick-out pervert who was just... weeping.

BITE BACK: (Dying laughing) That is the greatest story I have ever heard! You just... collaborated on his balls!

Olivia: It was a team-building exercise! He provided the... equipment.

BITE BACK: He came for one girl, he got 21! He wanted to get photos, and he just got submissions. And stomps. And punts. And a WHACK!

Olivia: He was trying to be a 'Peeping Tom,' and I just... popped Tom. Then the rest of the class... SPLAT Tom... and tethered Tom.

BITE BACK: That's not a walk of shame. That's a... 'crawl of shame while hog-tied in your own puke' of shame.

BITE BACK: He's lucky you didn't just rip his useless dick off and flush it.

Olivia: (Smiles) Who says they didn't?

BITE BACK: (Gasps) Olivia! ...Wait, did you?

Olivia: (Winks) Nah. We're not monsters. But, God, can you imagine the logistics? We're not plumbing experts.

BITE BACK: (Laughing, picks up a large purple dildo from a desk) I mean, it would have been a hell of a trophy! You could have mounted it on the wall like a little, sad, shriveled... this. (She gestures with the dildo).

Olivia: (Laughs) Oh my god, and what would we have done with the balls? Used them as little stress balls? 'Feeling anxious, Brenda? Squeeze the pervert's nut.' After that SPLATTERFEST...

BITE BACK: You could have put them in a jar on the reception desk! 'Please Take One'—no one would ever mess with you again.

Olivia: We could have bronzed them! Made them into a keychain! 'World's Worst Pervert, 2025.'

BITE BACK: Just a little... sad, deflated... scrotum-pouch. The ultimate 'Bad Dragon' accessory! Okay, okay, we're terrible. But he was worse.

Olivia: Exactly. He's lucky all he got was... everything else.

BITE BACK: What happened at the trial?

Olivia: Oh, the trial was a joke. The whole courtroom was packed. His public defender tried to paint us as the monsters. He was wheeled in, a catheter bag attached, looking pathetic. The prosecutor just held up the envelope of photos. The gasps in the courtroom. Then she held up the medical report for the girl whose orbital bone he fractured. Then she played the 911 call where you can hear 20 women screaming 'He's attacking us! He won't stop!'

The best part was when the witnesses took the stand. The woman from Victoria's Secret? She described him flying out the door and landing, saying, "I've worked in lingerie for ten years, your honor. I've never seen a 'restraint' that... unappealing."

Then the nurse from Planned Parenthood got up. The defender asked her, "Did you render aid?" She said, "Sir, what I saw was a 100% effective, non-hormonal, permanent contraceptive procedure. Our clinic fully supports it."

The whole courtroom, even the judge, was giggling.

BITE BACK: (Laughs) The judge must have loved that.

Olivia: The judge... she was a woman, total powerhouse. She kept a straight face, but you could see her biting her cheek to keep from smiling. But the defender's masterstroke? He called us hysterical. So our lawyer called an expert witness on... let's say... 'spousal disputes' and 'excessive force.'

BITE BACK: No...

Olivia: Yep. Lorena Bobbitt. She takes the stand. The whole courtroom is silent. Our lawyer just says, "Ms. Bobbitt, in your expert opinion, did these women use excessive force?"

And Lorena just... looks at the jury, looks at the judge, and says, "Sir, let's be clear. I'm the woman who famously severed a penis with a kitchen knife, drove away with it, and threw it into a field. And a jury found me not guilty by reason of temporary insanity, because of what I'd been through."

She leans forward. "These women... they just kicked and stomped and... tied him up after he assaulted them and attacked them. They had him outnumbered. They could have done anything."

Then she gives this perfect little smile and says, "They showed incredible restraint. They... left it attached. If my actions were justifiable, this is practically community service. If that's not 'judicious self-defense,' I don't know what is."

The entire courtroom erupted. The jury was out for ten minutes.

BITE BACK: So, what did he get?

Olivia: The judge came back and announced the verdict. Guilty. On all counts. She gave him the maximum: Twenty years.

BITE BACK: (Applauds)

Olivia: And that's when he lost it. He stands up, or tries to, knocking his wheelchair over. He's screaming, "Twenty years?! Mercy! Your Honor, mercy! Look what they did to me!"

And he... gestures... down. He's pointing at the catheter bag. And then, in this fit of rage, he just... yanks the tube out.

The whole courtroom gasped. He's standing there, holding this bloody tube, screaming, "Look! Look at it! It's ruined! They... they broke me! It doesn't even work!"

And he's pointing at this... just... mangled, purple, swollen... mess.

And all the women in the courtroom... the jury, the gallery, me, my instructor... we just... burst out laughing. Uproarious, can't-breathe laughter. It was the most pathetic, ridiculous thing we'd ever seen. All the men in the room—the bailiffs, the defender, the male jurors—just went pale. They were cringing, recoiling, crossing their legs.

The judge, furious, grabs her gavel.

WHACK! "ORDER!"

The sound of the gavel... it was like that first THWACK. It just... triggered him. He yelped, and his hands flew down to cover his groin, even though it was too late.

He's just standing there, naked from the waist down, crying, holding his bloody catheter, and covering his own ruined, splattered nuts.

The judge just stared at him, disgusted.

"Mr. Johnson," she said, her voice ice-cold. "Your plea for mercy is denied. What happened in that shower was self-defense. What happens to you in prison... is just justice. Get him out."

The applause was deafdeafening. The DA just shook his head and called it 'community pest control.'

BITE BACK: Okay, I need a drink. Olivia, you are a national treasure. This is a feminist magazine, so we have to ask. You're standing there naked, your fabulous breasts on display, having just pulverized a man's testicles... does that make you feel... less feminine?

Olivia: (Laughs) Are you kidding? My femininity and my power are the same thing. My job is literally to be the power for other women, to double actresses and coordinate their fights. I teach women how to hold a weapon, how to feel capable. Empowerment is my profession. Strength isn't masculine; it's human. My control, my power, my ability to squish hard-boiled eggs when I have to... that doesn't make me less of a woman. It makes me a more-evolved one.

BITE BACK: Finally, what's your advice for women today who feel scared, who want to find their own power?

Olivia: At 18, I said, "You just to start." At 30, my advice is more direct. You don't have to be a Black Belt. Just go to one Saturday self-defense workshop. Learn, just once, what it feels like to break a grip. Learn how to use your voice. Learn exactly where the balls are and the fastest way to get your knee, your heel, or your keys into them. The confidence you get from that one class, from knowing your body isn't just a target but is a weapon... that’s the first step. That’s the power no one can take from you.