Knockout

Knockout

By Preunbb

*

“Time’s up, Dennis! We’ve got self defense scheduled now.”

Dennis turned to the shrill voice coming from the blonde minx at the door, a headache forming as he tried to ignore it and continue reffing the bout between his boys. They had the place booked until 5, and the clock on the gym wall clearly read 4:05.

Every week, Serena tried to get her class started just a little earlier than last, cutting off the last 10 minutes he used for helping his young boxers cool off. She always walked in like she owned the place, like her female self defense class was the most important cause in the whole world. Like her midriff-baring sports bra and too-short booty shorts and intimate knowledge of male anatomy allowed her to walk over him.

It was ridiculous. Hell, the whole concept was ridiculous. Female self defense? Dennis wasn’t a sexist, but these feminists just needed to get realistic. He wasn’t in peak physical condition, and even he could clock her cold in one punch. Not that he would, of course. But he knew there was a good reason they kept boys and girls separate in boxing: the boys had a huge strength advantage over the women. It wouldn’t even be fair.

“Hey, asshole, did you hear me? You’re five minutes over!”

The blonde was in front of him now, as he tried to rein his thoughts in. He looked down at her, startled by the view her plunging neckline and his extra foot of height provided. She scowled as she followed his eyeline to her cleavage, and crossed her arms angrily over her modest bosom.

“Don’t make me use what we teach the girls in our class on you!”

Her class giggled. Dennis kept cool at the thinly-veiled threat, but Serena saw the shine of uncertainty in his eye. Her scowl turned to an evil grin.

“Trust me, they’d would be very eager to finally get the practical demonstration I’ve been promising them.” She drew closer to him, standing on her tiptoes so they were almost eye to eye, and stuck her tongue out to the side, mocking deep thought. “Let’s see, if I remember my lesson plan, this week’s session is about...Knees to the groin?”

One of her posse chimed in. “Isn’t that every session, Ms. Jackson?” The blonde

paused and put on an exaggerated frown, as if she hadn’t considered that, then shrugged. “Well, we do more than knees. Squeezes, stomps, punches, heel stomps, back stomps, partial rupture, total rupture...I like to go through every topic in every session. No telling how much of that we’d be able to get through with your balls, but I’m sure the girls would love to see a real example of even just a few of our class’s techniques.”

Dennis turned pale, then red with fury, as the knockout gorgeous fighter in front of him casually went on. “Really, Dennis, don’t you want to have children someday? Don’t you want to continue your genetic line? It’s insipid to risk all that just to steal 5 minutes of class time from me. Think this over. You’re a good looking guy, but you’re being an asshole, and I’d hate to have to damage-” her emphasis eliciting another giggle from the female half of the spectators “-you just so you can understand how to read a fucking schedule.”

He couldn’t listen to a word out of the bitch’s mouth. He jabbed his finger angrily in her face.

“Listen here, we’re scheduled until-”

Urk

Her left hand moved up whip-fast and grabbed his pointer finger, bending his arm around and nearly breaking his knuckle. Pain shot up his arm as he stumbled over. It hurt, but not more than his first broken nose. He roared from the pain and swung at her with his free hand.

Huc

She was even faster with her leg.

Her knee shot up between his, and he saw the impact before he felt it. His hand continued its trajectory, but with less than his total power. Serena stumbled back at the impact, her aim misaligned so she just grazed his left testicle, smushing it into his leg and twisting it around on his cords painfully. He tries to suppress the sudden nausea as that awful nutpain shot up, growing and constricting his thoughts as his vision blurred.

The crowd gasped, and Serena drew her leg back and brought her hand up to her mouth in horror. Behind her, students started whispering frantically, on both sides of the gymnasium.

“...Holy shit she actually got him, I thought she was just bluffing…”

“I swear I heard something crunch from him down there. That can’t be good, right?”

“....You know she’s actually castrated guys before, right? Like, ACTUALLY! I swear, I heard it from my sister…”

“Coach Wise, are you ok? Do you need ice, or an ambulance, or…”

Serena stretched a hand out to help him up. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to actually hurt you, I just wanted to scare you a bit!” She bit her lip guiltily, ineffectively hiding her smirk. “I didn’t mean to actually break anything down there. Is...anything broken?”

“I’m...fine.” Dennis whimpered, his shrill tone reassuring not even himself. He waddled off to the bathroom, trying to block out the cries of concern and sympathetic cooing from the crowd outside, his heartbeat pounding in his ears, his head and guts and hand and balls all screaming in pain.

In the handicap stall, he unbuckled his belt and gently pulled his boxers and jeans off. He took great care not to jostle his painful jewels as he gently stretched the elastic over them, squealing harshly when his hand slipped and the underwear waistband snapped into his sack.

He’d thought her knee barely brushed his genital, but that didn’t square with what he saw between his legs. His left ball was purple and twice the size of its brother. He probed it gently between his thumb and forefinger, being as delicate as he could. The fat lump of flesh in his hand was sore, and he could’ve swore the bottom of it had slightly more give to it than the rest, but he optimistically told himself it was just his imagination. The thought of her knee connecting with the force and angle she’d meant it to crossed his mind, and he let out an involuntary shudder. An impact like that would have completely pulverized his nuts; he was lucky to be getting away with a relative minor injury.

His phone vibrated. Dennis struggled to push the gleefully sympathetic face of the blonde out of his mind as he tapped on the message from his girlfriend. A picture from below of a red-furred vulva greeted him, its owner coyly keeping her breasts in the shot but her face out of it.

Come home from boxing early, I’ve been waiting for you all day :*

Fuck his aching ballsack, fuck the girl that caused it, and fuck this whole volunteer community class. Kayleigh had taken every opportunity today to remind him that she was home alone, extremely bored, and barely clothed. It wasn’t easy keeping his mind on work when his phone got a constant stream of new and interesting angles of her naked body.

Another photo appeared, this one with her bent over and her tight butt up in the air. Her delicious shorthaired pussy was just barely peeking out between her freckled legs. He wasn’t happy giving up the space their class reserved, but he didn’t have the energy or the balls to fight it anymore. He couldn’t pass up an opportunity like this.

He staggered up, hoping that the slight reduction in pain wasn’t just his hopeful imagination. He was sure his nut worked fine.

At least, he could tell that his cock did.

When he stepped out of the locker room, the boys were gone. The clock read a smidge past 4:30; he’d been nursing his balls in the bathroom a lot longer than he thought. The women who had kicked them out were scattered around the locker room doors in a semicircle, rather than the neat lines they normally formed. In front of the group was a tall dusky Asian girl, almost the same height as Dennis. She was wearing a tight-fitting high school gym shirt that read GO HUSKIES 2009, and her ample breasts and tight body filled it out perfectly. She didn’t have his bulging biceps or six-pack, but it was obvious that she’d put work into herself, and she had the easy grace of someone who was comfortable with ending a confrontation physically.

“So, I think we can both agree earlier wasn’t really a fair fight.” Her voice was smooth and confident, a upward lilt on fair the only indication she found the incident amusing. “Serena felt awful for the knee, but we all saw that you barely got hit. Here’s our offer: Your students are gone, so your class is obviously over. But as an apology for hurting you, we’ll share the space with you. A fight between you and me fulfills both our goals: I can demonstrate some self defense moves for our class, and you can practice your boxing. You’re ready for a real fight, right?”

Dennis closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose,his other hand still thrust between his legs as if that would help the pain. “You can just have the space already, I don’t want to fight you. I’m heading out.” He stumbled forward, his knees bent inward, trying futilely to keep some scrap of dignity.

The girls let out a groan of disappointment, and their champion raised her left eyebrow and frowned pityingly. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize just how bad Serena kneed you. She must’ve gotten you in the nuts REAL bad. You’re right, you should definitely head out immediately. Get a professional to take a look at those.” She met his eyes, and despite her tone of worry, her eyes were filled with mirth. “Are both of them popped? Or do you think one of them still works?”

There was a smattering of giggles at his expense. Like neutering a guy was the most hilarious thing in the world.

Dennis’ face burned as he almost choked on his rage. Enough of this. These girls need to be taught a lesson already. They couldn’t treat him like this. He was Dennis Fucking Wise. He’d knocked Joe Altacounte out cold in ‘02, had an undefeated 10-0 record in winter of ‘06, gotten golden gloves at the age of 21. He was a fighter, and he knew what he was doing. He could take this underfed big-titted social justice warrior girl.

“Fine.” He stood up straight, the agony of his shifting ballsack driving his temper higher. “Let’s go. You, me, the ring. Whatever ruleset you want, whatever fight you want. Let’s get this over with already.”

Her grin returned. “Sounds good to me. I’ll give you a minute to head back to the bathroom and get prepared.”

She stepped closer to him, close enough for him to feel the warmth from her smooth tawny skin and smell her mild but distinctly feminine scent. “You’ll need to put your cup on, right?”

He turned in a huff and walked back gingerly to the locker room. He once again got undressed gently, and sat splay-legged on the bench as he dug through his gym bag for his rarely-used cup, his balls puddling out onto the cold lacquered wood. In boxing, all of the boys were very careful about not hitting each other in the groin so he hardly ever used the cup, but Dennis had a feeling his new opponent didn’t feel similarly.

He found the hard plastic cup at the bottom of his bag. It smelled faintly of ball sweat and old plastic. The black NuttyBuddy fit him snugly but comfortably...on a good day. But it was not a good day; As Dennis eyeballed the mismatched lumps of manflesh between his legs, he knew he’d never manage to fit all of himself into it without risking some severe crushing or pinching of his very sensitive bits. The cup looked miniscule next to his bloated, lopsided scrotum.

his phone buzzed again, and this time his girlfriend’s sweet perky nipples stared back, standing at attention, her breasts forming the background of the photo like gently rolling goosebumped hills. “Huuurrryyyyyy”, read the accompanying message. “I need someone to warm these up :(”

He shoved the cup back into his bag and pulled his pants up. This fight would be over too soon to worry about this. He wasn’t getting suckerkneed this time. Without the element of surprise, this girl didn’t stand a chance. One punch is all it would take to knock her out cold and be on his way home to his ginger nympho girlfriend.

On cue, another picture. This one needed no message. She was on the bed, using the mirror at the foot of it to get a perfect angle for the shot of her spread legs and the delicious pink pussy between. Her hand that wasn’t holding the camera was pressing into her clit, as she pleasured herself without blocking his view.

His cock stiffened in his pants. One solid hit is all he’d need. He swung the door open to the cheering crowd.

Pinned

Erica leaned back against the ropes, awaiting her opponent. She’d done her best to project her ballbusting inner goddess that Serena always taught her class about. “Look the part, be the part” was her motto: If you acted like you had no problem cracking a couple of testicles like walnuts, chances are that the boys would be so scared of you, you wouldn’t even have to use the brutal self defense techniques at all.

And it had almost worked! But her last little barb had pushed the coach over the edge, and now he was calling her bluff. She knew it was stupid; she didn’t have to rub his face in his own defeat like that. But he just looked so damn cute when he was fuming at her.

Oh well. She’d never had the chance to fight a boy before, but she sure wasn’t going to be using any of the techniques they’d learned in this class. With his cup on, ballbusting wouldn’t be particularly effective, and of course Serena’s lesson plan never once deviated from her laser-sharp focus on testicular pain and destruction. Still, it was good to know; if he got fresh with her, she could hit him hard enough for him to feel it through his cup.

Dennis climbed over the rope, and Erica noted how he carefully avoided twanging the tightly-pulled cord into his crotch. Even with protection, boys were so protective of their genitals. His paranoia would make this fight a piece of cake.

“And...GO!”

The bell rang, and they went.

Once in the ring, her opponent seemed to remember that his balls were safe. He would never have stood with his legs so spread apart, his crotch completely undefended and bulging out unnecessarily, if it wasn’t a distraction tactic. Erica knew that he must’ve thought he was invulnerable between the legs, with that stiff, unfair piece of plastic completely protecting his biggest weakness.

Except...It wasn’t completely protected. With her musculature and Serena’s training, Erica had the strength to hurt boys even through steel cups, as a number of volunteer “rapists” for their class discovered the hard way. On the one occasion a training participant had worn a plastic cup, she’d split the thing in half, causing an enormous amount of distress for the poor boy and compelling her to cover the hospital stay for his surgeries (Purely out of sympathy, of course; the legal waivers volunteers signed was quite extensive).

Of course, none of her roughhousing in gym compared to the damage she had inflicted on her former beau, who wasn’t lucky enough to have any protection...

She couldn’t think about awful night. Not right now. With a cup protecting him, she definitely wasn’t strong enough to inflict permanent damage, but she could rattle him. Maybe give him a more direct hit than the one Coach landed, and really show him what a girl’s knee to the balls can do.

He swung and she barely sidestepped the haymaker. For a big guy, he was fast. She feigned a quick knee to the groin. His confident facade cracked, and his eyes grew wide. He must have just realized the plastic cup wouldn’t do shit for protecting him.

But instead of taking the easy route, she swung behind him and booted him in the back of the knee, and one more punch in the stomach as he collapsed.She waited politely for him to stand back, and danced away when he tried to surprise her with a sudden swing. He stumbled and caught his breath, lunging towards her.

It was then that Erica noticed just where he was looking. His eyes were glued to her chest, and she grabbed the strap between her bra cups and yanked it up in a futile attempt to cover up more of her ample bosom. The one she kept at gym was a little too small, but it had never been a problem in the all-girls class before. Pretty hard to care about covering a little boob when you showered naked together.

The big black man across from her was practically salivating though, and without ball hits, she needed every advantage she could get. She brought her fists up in front of her in a mock-boxing gesture, “accidentally” squeezing her tits together with her elbows.

“Awww, not used to getting kicked, because you only know how to use your fists? Or does the below-the-belt rule in boxing go all the way to the ground-”

Whump

His left fist squashed her breasts into her ribcage, and the underqualified bra gave up. Her boobs spilled out as her top burst apart and drifted to the floor, the thin black scrap of fabric beyond repair.

Erica couldn’t focus on her sudden nudity. A tit didn’t hurt like a nut, but it did hurt, and he’d gotten her directly on. Her breath hitched in her throat, and she coughed heavily at the ache in her chest.

But through the pain, she smiled. After all, if he thought boob hits were off limits…

Well, she didn’t need to hold back any more.

She faked being winded, crumpling to the floor. When he leaned over her, she shot up, bringing her knee straight into his groin. Her bony kneecap rocketed into his bulging package. Erica felt it connect with something, but the resistance she’d expect from even a plastic cup wasn’t there.

She must have missed his balls entirely.

She shoved her victim to the ground, prying his legs apart as he gibbered helplessly. She brought her heel up high and grinned. No way could she miss a target this large in this position.

She stomped down, but he rolled away and snapped back up onto his feet at the last minute, visibly shaken but still in control of himself. His slight limp made her realize her first hit hadn’t totally missed, and she wondered why she didn’t collide with his cup. Maybe they’d been kneed up inside of him, and she had actually hit him in the stomach? She hoped not; that would have ended the fight really fast. It would be like cracking a pair of eggs still in the carton.

He barrelled at her, and she pretended to stumble and fall onto her back on the floor. He towered over her, left hook flying towards her-

But his footwork was still sloppy, and hers was perfect. His stance had each of his legs on either side of her, in the perfect position for a hard heel up into his crotch.

She brought her knee up to her chest, then straightened it out and rocketed her bony heel up in between his legs, putting every ounce of strength in her muscular legs into the blow. This time, she felt a piece of some oddly-shaped testicular protection crack. She could feel the outline of his organs through it; it must have been the cup version of those socks with toes. Her thigh extended fully, her incredibly strong leg muscles pushing her heel deep into his crotch and lifting him off his toes entirely. His own weight was now pinning his groin into her heel, and his muscular boxer build only helped increase the pain she was causing. She had sudden flashbacks to that fateful night with her ex.

That night, the argument was about...god, what was it over now? She couldn’t even remember. Not cheating. Not anything even particularly important. But she was furious. She just needed to wipe that smug smirk off his face.

Before her boyfriend could react, she had crammed her knee between his thighs.

She gasped. That had been way before she’d started her training at Serena’s class, back when the only things she knew about his anatomy were the methods used for his pleasure. They’d always been an especially erogenous zone for him: she recalled the way he’d moan when she cupped his large, hairy low hangers with her palms, her lips gently massaging them as he reciprocated with delightful moans of pleasure. It had been clear to her even then, that the male sex organs were extremely sensitive to the slightest touch. The effect of a full force knee must have been unimaginable.

His sweetly sensitive right testicle was trapped between her knee and his unforgiving pelvic bone, and with a gristly squick it had given way to mush. She’d held him as he sobbed on the floor, the blaring doppler of the approaching ambulance drowning out his gibbering.

His other nut had survived that day, but their relationship hadn’t. Even now, her thoughts often wandered to how he coped with the life-changing injury she had dealt him, if he still possessed the manliness he had when he held her in his arms, if he still possessed the masculine scent whenever he exerted himself physically, or if he could still ejaculate without any complications. Or if all of these things had been lessened by half.

She snapped back to reality. His cup was broken, but she needed one more hit. She pulled her foot back and snapped right back into his balls as he was falling, the combined force of her foot and his fall increasing the power of her heel.

Thump-splish.

No more resistance from the cup at all. Not even the jagged plastic splinters that should have been there. The ball of her foot collided with a testicle, but a watery splish was all she got from her heel on the left side. Erica started to put together the pieces with sickening horror.

The poor idiot hadn’t packed a single piece of protection. Those sounds beneath her foot hadn’t come from a fractured cup...

She stood up and let him go, pulled his pants down as he collapsed face-first to the ground.The remains of his manhood almost literally spilled out of his pants. Most of his sack was full of fluid, but his right nut floated among the mush, spongy and damaged but still intact. Her coach’s first kick must have done more damage than they had thought. And the overconfident moron...he thought he could get away without protection. He thought she wouldn’t kick there.

“We’ll get the ambulance, Dennis.” Serena was on the phone, frantically describing the scene to the operator on the other end. Erica sat in front of him and leaned over to offer him comfort, her partial nakedness forgotten.

At least, forgotten by her. As she leaned closer, Dennis’s eyes focused on the perfect rack presented to him. Between the testicular trauma and sexual overload, he lost control. He started spurting wildly, each long streak of cum he emitted bringing staggeringly painful aches in his remaining testicle. The nutcords on his injured side spasmed uselessly, his body trying to pump semen from an organ that no longer existed. He coughed and tried to cover up his soaked shorts as thick white semen gushed through the thin fabric and onto the gym mat.

Erica didn’t have to be a urologist to know that sudden ejaculation wasn’t a good sign for his testicular structural integrity. She patted him on the back and avoided his gaze, pretending like she didn’t notice the congealing, spreading pool of man-juice forming on the vinyl mat below.

“I’m sure it will be fine, Dennis. You’ll be ok with just one testicle. I’m...sure your right ball still works perfectly. You’ll still be able to have sex and have children. I know it.”

She kept cooing little white lies to get him through the pain until the ambulance arrived, trying her best to allow him to peacefully finish what would likely be his final orgasm.

Epilogue

Dennis rubbed his hand over his long, flaccid cock, concentrating with every ounce of willpower on the video on his laptop. His solo testicle joggled up and down in sync with his hand as he tried to coax an orgasm from his limp member. It had been nearly two months since that last boxing session at the gym, and a month since Kayleigh had dumped him for being unable to satisfy her needs. Without a nymphomaniac girlfriend ready to jump his bones at any minute, Dennis had started masturbating again.

He tried to focus on the task at hand, and not focus on how much better it would feel to be pumping his load into that wet red-haired pussy. The video in front of him was nearing its most-viewed part, as the tall black man thrust rhythmically into his screaming Asian partner. Before, Dennis would have focused on the woman: tits jiggling in time with her moans, eyes rolling up and a slight grin crossing her face as his tempo increased and she drew closer to her noisy climax. But Dennis could only focus on the rock-hard erection of his fantasy stand-in. He couldn’t believe he’d always just taken his boner for granted when masturbating; after all, how difficult was it to get hard with some porn, your hand and some lube?

Since his surgery, erections were another fantasy of his. The slightest thickening of his member in his grip was all he could manage. With only one testicle intact, and it in a badly injured condition, the nurse had helpfully informed him that a loss of erectile function could be a side effect of his injury.

The doctors had never managed to fully assess the fertility of his remaining testicle. While at the hospital, they had tried to extract a semen sample from him several times to examine, but his injury made the task impossible (although not for lack of effort on the part of his ‘kind’ doctor). His last nut remained incredibly sensitive, and even the slightest sexual stimulation brought tears of agony as his damaged ball failed to produce anything for her to test. She finally decided to send him home and have him test his fertility when the pain was low enough to masturbate, by himself. In god-blessed peace and solitude.

The mind wrenching agony in his nut finally reduced to a dull ache, where it remained for four weeks before Dennis decided it would likely never go away. So here he was, doing his best to produce some ball juice to prove to himself that he still could. In his former days, two months without orgasm would’ve left him spurting at the slightest touch, but his reduced libido kept his head cool. Not all side effects are necessarily bad, the nurse had said coyly to him.

But increased stamina wasn’t worth much without the hard cock to go with it.

He closed his laptop and lay back, limp cock still in hand. The image of that scene in the gym was burned into his mind. He could see Erica looking up at him, on the ground but with the inarguable upper hand already. His balls aching viciously, knowing there was absolutely no way to cause an equivalent pain to her. He’d wanted to concede, but he took too long to react — She’d had a victorious grin plastered across her face, unaware of the damage she had already done, right before rocketing her foot into what she thought was a hard, protective cup...

He felt a familiar rush surge through him, and his cock twitched. Not an erection, but...something. He gave a few experimental pumps, trying to put his half-castratrix out of his mind. He managed with the effectiveness of a drowning man trying to ignore a nearby boat. Her smooth skin, the breasts that threatened to spill out of that tiny black sports bra (and the revealed dark nipples when they did), that perfectly sculpted bubble butt…

That horrified (or horrifying?) gleam in her eyes when she pulverized his testicle.

The semen forcing itself out from deep inside his agonizing balls, fleeing like lifeboats from the Titanic.

That first sickening crunch when his organ had given way beneath a trained fighter’s knee, and the softer, wet noise of her heel slamming into his crotch when she’d finally popped it for good.

Dennis’s orgasm took him suddenly. He closed his eyes and gasped, fantasies of Erica liquefying his last remaining testicle inexplicably filling his mind. His imagination was so intense he nearly convinced himself she had popped it in reality, and he instinctively grabbed for the solitary organ with his free hand. The nausea and pain that followed contact verified that, indeed, his last testicle was still intact.

Although it remained in one piece, the nurse had cheerily informed him that its ”functionality remained questionable”. When Dennis opened his eyes, he got the stomach-churning answer to that question.

His massive load was plastered all over his sheets, his belly, and his legs. But instead of the thick, opaque cum he produced when he was still a complete man, his spurting had only covered him in a thin liquid. It looked like precum, but felt stickier. He didn’t need a fertility testing kit to know what this meant. It was as clear as water.

That orgasm on the gym mat hadn’t just been the most intense of his life.

It had been his last real load.