Sparring With Abby

Sparring With Abby

By StackHack77609

I had been going to the same sparring gym for a few years when I first met Abby. I wasn't an especially serious fighter, but I had gotten a lot better since I started. My improvement was largely thanks to Margret, who owned the gym and ran all the classes. She was either in her late twenties or early thirties-- I was never quite sure-- and she was completely gorgeous; I had always had something of a schoolboy crush on her. But more to the point, she was a fantastic teacher, and over the course of a few years at her gym, I had gone from a complete beginner to feeling like I could pretty much hold my own on the mats with anyone-- within reason.

For a number of months, my sparring partner at the gym was a guy named Bennet, who I felt like I had a nice rapport with. But Margret liked to switch our pairings every so often, so that we didn't fall into ruts sparring with the same people over and over again. She asked me if I could start coming at a different time so she could match me with a new partner, and I was happy to oblige.

The following week, I got to the gym at my new time, and Margret called me over to where she was standing with someone I couldn't see from the entrance.

"Hi Colin," she called out as I approached. As she turned to face me I could see that standing next to her was a girl who appeared to be about the same age as me-- I would later learn that she was a year younger. "This is Abby; you two are going to spar together going forward."

My heart skipped a beat. I had never sparred with a girl before, and I was not expecting that Margret would pair me with one. But what struck me with much greater immediacy was that Abby was stunningly, outrageously hot. She was painfully beautiful and had an astonishing body; anyone would have thought so. But even more than that, she was every inch my type-- I had never met, or perhaps even seen, someone who was more my type in my entire life. I had always been extremely attracted to Margret, but it was more abstract, like the way you have a crush on your English teacher when you're in school, or a character from a TV show. Abby, on the other hand, standing in front of me and smiling, made my blood boil in my veins. Simply put, I wanted to have sex with her, very badly. I wanted to remove what little clothes she was wearing-- the tauntingly short shorts, the thin tank top with only a sports bra underneath-- and fuck her on the mats right here, right now. Instead, I stuttered out a flustered hello, my voice catching in my throat.

"Hi Colin!" Abby said, smiling brightly. The sound of her voice was like honey in my ears. From the first words out of her mouth, it was obvious that she was an incredibly warm and friendly person. "I'm really excited to become sparring partners! Margret has been telling me a lot about you, and how strong a fighter you are. I'm really looking forward to working with you!"

"Oh, uh, yeah," I stammered. "Me too. Definitely."

"Okay, let's do it," Margret said. "Why don't you two get into a nice long bout; no warm up, right into it. Give yourself a good opportunity to start learning your new partner. I'm going to be circling around with some other groups but I'll be keeping half an eye on you guys."

"Sounds great!" Abby replied.

We went to opposite sides of the mat and surveyed each other. I couldn't believe how hot she was. Being so acutely aware of her body also heightened my awareness of my own body; I was wearing only a t-shirt and some rather thin-- and short-- gym shorts. I wasn't wearing a cup-- Margret didn't let any of the boys wear cups because she said they interfered with proper form and good technique. It had never been an issue since I'd been coming here. Then again, I had only ever sparred with other guys before, and it went without saying that it wasn't in anyone's interest to start hitting below the belt. I considered warning Abby that I wasn't wearing a cup, but decided against it; she must already know if she'd been training with Margret for any amount of time. Plus, it was too embarrassing; I had hardly spoken to this girl at all, and that was not the foot I was looking to get off on.

We each spent a few minutes shaking out our limbs and then nodded to each other to begin. We approached slowly, our fists held loosely in front of our chests. I was feeling a bit more cautious than usual, still not quite sure what to make of sparring with a girl. I threw some light feints, mostly meant to gauge her reactions. It quickly became apparent that she was very good-- perhaps the most skilled fighter I had ever sparred with. Her reactions were lightning quick and she had an extremely limber presence on the mat, easily evading or maneuvering for advantageous space as necessary. Her instincts were excellent. Soon my hesitancy and uncertainty subsided as I became lost in the focus necessary when facing a formidable opponent. Bit by bit our light, exploratory movements were loosening and becoming more intense, more heated: true sparring. I was enjoying myself-- it was an electric feeling to spar with someone who could really meet you inch for inch.

Abby threw a quick two-punch combo that I blocked, and while her arm was still extended I tried to take advantage of her momentary loss of balance with a side kick, but she nimbly let her weight fall away in the other direction, using her own momentum to evade the strike. She planted her feet and faked a punch towards the side of my head, then quickly dove down and launched a series of fists into my side in the brief moment that I raised my arms to deflect her faint. I quickly recovered and fended her off, but not before she had landed two or three blows into my ribcage. She backed off and I stood up straight, rotating my shoulder to stretch out the muscles in my side.

Then, as I was standing straight and momentarily distracted with stretching out my ribs, Abby, who had been backing away, planted on her feet and quickly changed direction, taking a step toward me. With one foot planted, her other leg cocked back at a 45 degree angle, and after a brief pause to accrue maximum power, she shot it forward, her bare foot connecting unsparingly with the direct center of my ultra-thin cotton gym shorts, smashing with previously unimaginable force into my incredibly vulnerable ballsack.

There was a shocking initial impact, and then after a couple seconds a much, much deeper and more intense agony overtook me. "Ohhh," I called out meekly, falling quickly to my knees. "Ohh, oh my god, fuck. Ohhh fuck." My voice was a whisper as I could hardly make sound come out of my mouth. I had been hit in the balls before, but never like this. My previous experience was with playful smacks from friends or glancing blows from a wayward soccer ball or two. Up until now, I had considered those experiences to be incredibly painful. But this was something else entirely. This was a full-force, unobstructed, precisely accurate kick from an extremely skilled martial arts fighter. It seemed ludicrous that my body had a mechanism for making me feel the way I now felt, one that wasn't even particularly difficult to access. I would have done anything to not feel the pain I was feeling, but there was nothing to be done.

Abby stood over me, not seemingly surprised or concerned, still maintaining the stance and energy of a fighter, as if the bout were still going on. My senses were all working at a diminished capacity, but I could tell that Margaret was making her way over to our corner of the gym.

"Oh dear," she said with mild concern in her voice. "I guess I can surmise what happened here."

"How long does he have to stay down before he forfeits automatically?" Abby asked matter-of-factly.

"Well," Margret said, "the rule we go by is 90 seconds, but I'm not sure--"

"And can I keep fighting until the 90 seconds are up?"

"Well," Margret said, some hesitation evident in her voice, "taking the rules at face value, you can, technically, although in this instance I'm not sure it's necessary."

"Okay," Abby said, nodding like she understood.

"You all right, Colin?" Margret said, bending down and putting a hand on my back. I groaned miserably. "I think you'll be fine. Just give it some time. I'm gonna keep making the rounds but I'll be back to check on you two. Abby, will you stay with him while he recovers?"

"Of course!" Abby replied brightly. She had finally relinquished her sparring energy and sounded like the same super friendly girl I had been introduced to.

As time passed I slowly began to recover enough lift my head speak. Abby was sitting on the mat next to me and smiled as I lifted my head. "Oh my god," I said for the nth time.

"The 90 seconds passed a while ago, so we can both just rest now," Abby told me kindly. "You all right?" she asked, acknowledging my plight for the first time.

I breathed deeply. "I guess I will be," I said, looking down at the mat in embarrassment. "I... I'm not wearing a cup."

'Yeah, I know," Abby said flatly. "None of the boys here wear cups. You're the first boy I've been paired with, but it's not, like, a huge secret."

I was a bit shocked to hear her say this. She knew I didn't have a cup on? And she still kicked me there, that hard? On purpose?

"Oh," I said; I could hear the confusion in my own voice. "I would have thought, I mean-- I would have thought you wouldn't, you know, you wouldn't hit me there if you had realized."

She looked puzzled. "Why? The whole point of sparring is to find an advantage, and getting a boy where it counts is a great advantage if the opportunity presents itself, right?"

"Oh," I said, quite flustered. "Um, I mean, yeah, I guess."

"I really believe in training to be the most complete fighter possible," she continued with conviction, "so I wouldn't want to put any limits like that on myself."

"Yeah... I mean, yeah, I guess that makes sense," I replied, blushing hotly as I looked down at the mat.

"Anyway, why don't we take five to get some water, and then we'll start our second bout. Sound good?"

I could not wrap my head around the idea of going again, but I also couldn't imagine arguing with this girl whose presence made my heart feel like it was going to beat right out of my chest. I sheepishly agreed.

In the second round, I managed to avoid getting my balls smashed again, but only by focusing nearly all my energy and attention on protecting that one part of my body. As a result, Abby beat me roundly; it was more than clear that I was not nearly a good enough fighter to compete with Abby unless all of my focus was reserved for the sparring itself. If I walked around with my balls in my hand the whole time, so to speak, she would wipe the floor with me.

After the session, as we were gathering our things, Abby asked if I was free to go grab some coffee; she wanted to get to know me better. To say I was elated would be an understatement. I wasn't sure if she was expressing romantic interest or just being friendly, but either way I was thrilled at the idea that we would have anything to do with each other outside the confines of the gym.

---

In our next session, a few days later, I was maintaining an advantage from the start. We were fairly evenly matched as fighters, but I was managing to control space on the mat better. I could tell that Abby was becoming more and more determined to regain the upper hand. She started fighting more aggressively, more recklessly, adopting an all-or-nothing approach. She drove me out towards the edge of the mat with a furious offensive. I did my best to defend, moving backwards to stay out of the vanguard of her attack. But soon I had run out of room, backed up against the wall. I raised my fists higher in front of my face, ready to make my last stand, but I didn't get the chance. Without hesitating Abby took a step back, then a step forward, using this second step to build momentum behind a kick, her bare foot flying up with brutal force into my totally unprotected balls. It was disastrously accurate, perfectly striking both of my nads dead-on. The force of the kick was inconceivable; it was like she had been gearing up to kick me in the chin, mustering the enormous amount of power that would take, and the only reason her foot only got halfway there was that my balls got in the way.

I tried to gasp, unable to make a sound, and before I could react in any way, Abby, lightning fast, had pinned my shoulders to the wall, planted her left leg, and then swung her right foot back and pounded it into my balls again. And again. She kept kicking, a soft grunt of effort accompanying each thrust of her foot-- it must have been six or seven kicks, each one as hard as the last and mercilessly accurate. I would later reflect on how astounding her accuracy was. Not one of her kicks missed or was even a glancing blow. Each one struck the direct center-point of my sack with unthinkable precision. She took two or three seconds between kicks to gather herself; you would think that in the course of a fight one would kick frantically, as fast as they could, but Abby was tremendously deliberate and calm as she deposited her foot into my jewels again and again. In my experience, a kick in the balls doesn't really sink in until a few moments have passed, but that wasn't the case here. As each kick landed, my balls exploded with pain, each impact of her foot immediately sending waves of agony through my body.

Finally Abby released the pin on my shoulders and took a step back, still in a sparring position as if the fight were somehow going to continue. I collapsed to the mat, doubled over, the pain all-consuming. "Ohhhh no," I whimpered, my voice hoarse with tears. "Oh my God, oh God, fuck. No no no."

Everything after that was a bit of a daze, but I vaguely realized that Abby was starting a 90 second countdown until I forfeited. I was on the ground for a long time. At some point Margret had come over but I had no idea what they said to each other. Evidently Margret was not particularly worried, because she walked away again after a few minutes.

I spent most of the remaining class time recovering on the floor, but I was able to stand up and gingerly walk out when it was time to go. Abby walked out with me and seemed eager to talk.

"Wow, what a great session!" she said enthusiastically. "We make such great sparring partners. It was awesome today how you had the edge for the whole first part of the fight, and then I managed to pull it out in the end."

"Yeah," I agreed, not sure what else to say. "Good fight."

"I'm so excited to keep sparring with you," she went on exuberantly. "This is the most fun I've ever had at the gym!"

I had some extremely mixed emotions listening to her. On the one hand, I couldn't help feeling immensely flattered that anything about me made Abby feel excited. But at the same time, thinking ahead to so many future fights where it seemed inevitable that Abby would continue to smash my balls was terrifying.

"Hey, listen, Abby," I began nervously.

"Yeah?" She asked sweetly, smiling at me.

"You know, I'm really enjoying sparring with you too, but, um, do you think maybe you could, like, stop kicking me during fights?"

Abby laughed brightly. "That's funny. Could you imagine? Only throwing punches? That would hardly be sparring at all!"

I shifted uncomfortably. "No," I said, swallowing hard, "I mean, like, could you stop kicking me, you know... in the testicles?"

"Oh," Abby said, her brow furrowing with mild confusion. "Well, I don't really think that would be fair, would it? I mean, the goal is to be the most complete fighter possible, to have the fullest understanding of every dynamic that comes into play on the mat. You're asking me to narrow the parameters of sparring, just to make it easier for you. I don't think that would be right, you know?"

"Yeah..." I sheepishly agreed. "I hear what you're saying. It's just that, you know; it hurts so badly."

"That's all right," Abby said with a smile. "As long as we're aspiring to be the best fighters we can be, things like that don't matter so much. Hey, do you want to get something to eat? I want to hang out more!"

I couldn't imagine eating with the way my stomach felt, and I was also a bit stunned with how easily Abby had dismissed my plea for mercy; but even so, the prospect of getting to spend time with her was the most enticing thing in the world, and I happily agreed.

---

Over the next few months, my relationship with Abby developed rapidly, both on the mat and off. Sparring with her had became a real pleasure-- other, of course, than when she was racking my babymakers, which she did with some frequency, and with a brutal disregard for how devastating it was for me. We had also begun to spend a ton of time together outside the gym; she had quickly become one of my best friends. On top of being achingly attractive, she was an incredibly kind person, but I was also learning that she had a mischievous side that didn't come through on a first impression. She loved bending rules, taking risks; things that made life feel real and immediate. I found her captivating, and I was a bit confounded that she was so enthusiastic to spend time with me. The truth is, I was friend-zoned hard, but I can't say I even minded that much-- I was so thrilled to have any kind of proximity to her.

We sparred at the gym twice a week, but we began spending more and more time together on our own. Soon I was seeing Abby nearly every day. We would often hang out at her house, which was always empty in the afternoons and early evenings. We would watch TV, play video games, or just talk. Sometimes we would do extra sparring on our own, which was always a thrill for me; somehow the intense physicality and even intimacy of it was heightened enormously outside the official-feeling confines of Margret's gym.

One day I was at her house in the afternoon and we were a bit bored. Sitting on the couch, we took turns suggesting things we could do, but it all failed to catch our interest. Then Abby sat up straight and smiled at me.

"Oh, actually, I know something we could do; something I've wanted to try for a while," she said with a little glint in her eye.

"Sure," I said. "I'm down for anything."

Abby smiled at me dryly. "Want to spar naked?"

If I had been drinking something I would have done a spit take. "What?" I choked out.

"You heard me," she said laughing.

"Uh, I mean-- why?"

She shrugged-- a gesture I always thought was particularly cute on her. "I just sort of think it would be exhilarating, like the purest form of fighting. I think it would feel like it always does, but my heart would be racing even more than usual. I don't know, it's exciting! And I feel like I'm so comfortable with you that we could do it without it feeling weird."

I had impossibly mixed feelings about this, but I already knew deep down that it all distilled to a single fact: the chance to see Abby naked, under any circumstances at all, is something I just could not pass up.

"Okay," I said, trying to sound at least casual if not confident.

Abby's eyes lit up, and she clapped excitedly. "Yay!" she said. "Wow, I thought I'd have to do way more convincing. Okay, let's go up to my room."

I had only been in Abby's room a handful of times, and just being in there made my heart rate go up under the most casual of circumstances. It was a big room, with a large carpeted area in the middle that would be perfectly suitable for sparring.

"Okay, you know what comes next!" Abby said, already pulling her shirt over her head unceremoniously, standing in front of me in just jeans and a bra, a mischievous smile on her face.

"Uhh..." I stammered, many kinds of overwhelmed at once.

Abby laughed. "I can go first if you're a little nervous," she said.

"Um, okay," I said, basically abandoning any attempt to keep my cool.

Abby unbuttoned her jeans and in one elegant motion slid them down to the floor and stepped out of them. She was wearing very narrow, thong-like underwear but she quickly took those off too. Finally she reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, letting it fall to the floor, her soft breasts spilling out into the room. Abby was standing in front of me completely naked. A sight I had tried to picture in my head an unthinkable number of times, and here it was, right in front of me. Honestly, she looked even better than I could have imagined. Her body was outrageous; taut and firm, smooth and supple, soft and yielding in all the right places.

I was awe-struck. Abby laughed a little at my reaction. "Okay, your turn," she said.

With a tempest in my heart, I tried to get it over with as quickly and un-selfconsciously as she had. I pulled my t-shirt over my head, the slightly cool air in the room nipping at my bare torso. Then I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of both my gym shorts and my boxer briefs, and, after a breath, pulled them down to the floor, shaking them off my ankle.

Abby shamelessly eyed me up and down. I felt completely on display. She looked back at my face and her eyes widened a bit. "Whoa. Colin," she said, a slight flush coming into her face. "I never realized..." her eyes wandered back over my body. "God, you're hot." She quickly looked back to my face and her blush grew a little redder. "I mean-- don't get me wrong. I've always thought you were handsome. But, geez." she said, her eyes trailing down again. "You've got a great body."

I had never really seen Abby lose her composure quite like this before, and it was exhilarating to see it happen at all, to say nothing of thinking that it was in reaction to me. "Uh, thanks," I said. "You too."

She laughed, my meager compliment seemingly snapping her back to her normal self. "Okay, well, enough ogling. Let's spar!"

Everything was happening so fast. I had been incredibly worried that I would have an enormous boner the whole time, but miraculously I was staying composed-- and soft. While seeing Abby naked was probably the most arousing experience of my life, and made my dick want to get as hard as possible, being seen by her, and anticipating the fight that was about to start, was utterly nerve-wracking, and made my dick want to shrivel up to nothing. Luckily, the two forces cancelled out, and if you were looking at my penis (which Abby certainly was) you couldn't tell that anything was amiss.

Before I had any time to gather my chaotic thoughts, the fight had begun. To say that Abby's nakedness was distracting would be an enormous understatement. Her breasts, unrestrained by a sports bra or anything else, wriggled freely with her every movement. Each time we made contact, our bare skin touched, sending a jolt through my body. Abby seemed much less preoccupied with the one detail of this match that was different from all our others, and was therefore fighting much better than me. I was lucky if half my mind was on the match; at least half was dead stuck on how badly I wanted to fuck her.

As we got more into the flow of the fight, Abby became a bit more aggressive, probably sensing how distracted and therefore off my game I was. She had backed me into a bit of a corner, and it was taking all of my defensive resources to avoid being completely dominated. She landed a few quick jabs into my side, her fists hurting my ribs but also feeling electric on my bare skin. As I repositioned to defend my side, she pivoted with crazy speed and started alternating jabs into my face, quick and precise, none of them too strong but creating an unrelenting barrage as they kept coming. I lifted my hands in front of my face, and her fists started deflecting off my forearms. But this was a critical mistake on my part, as it also served to obstruct my vision. While I was still preoccupied with fists flying into my face, Abby had taken a step back, and then kicked with her customary force into my freely hanging balls.

A loud smacking sound reverberated off the bedroom walls as her bare foot slapped against my naked ballsack. "Ahhh!" I yelped. The pain struck instantly, which seemed to be a special skill that was somehow unique to Abby. It was incapacitating. In fact, it felt like I was frozen in place; I had bent slightly at the waste upon impact, but I hadn't collapsed, and I couldn't seem to move my body at all-- my balls hurt too much. This proved to be a critical failing as Abby-- after a moment of surveying how I seemed to be stuck in place, bent slightly at the knee, my legs bowed open by the force of her kick, duly framing complete access to my genitals-- brought her leg back and kicked my testicles again. The same loud slapping sounded echoed in the room, and the red-hot pain from the second kick snapped me out of whatever paralysis had me stuck in place. But even that wasn't fast enough. The second kick turned out to be only the first of a two-kick combo, and even as my knees were beginning to buckle and I was collapsing to the ground, Abby, with preternatural quickness, had cocked her foot back and unleashed it into my balls a third time.

I fell to the floor in debilitating anguish, my knees pressing into the carpet, bent at the waste as far as I could bend, as if smashing my face into the carpet as much as possible could somehow alleviate the pain.

"I'll start your 90 second countdown," Abby said calmly, as if reading from a rulebook.

I hardly processed what she had said. Needless to say, a 90 second countdown was the last thing on my mind. The idea that I might be a threat to get up and continue fighting within the next 90 seconds was beyond laughable. I squirmed on the floor in agony, futilely searching for some position that was at all tolerable.

"Thirty seconds left," I heard Abby say on the outer reaches of my consciousness. In my delirious state, it seemed like part of the problem was that my balls were in contact with the floor, and that I should lift them off the floor so that they could recover free from pressure. I rested my head on my forearms and lifted my butt into the air, spreading my legs a bit so that my tender balls didn't rub against my thighs, a degree of contact that seemed unbearable right now. I had been in that position for probably ten seconds when I sensed that Abby was walking around to stand behind me. Then, out of the corner of my eye-- and much too weak to do anything about it-- I could see that Abby was rearing her foot back to kick right underneath my butt, which of course is where my extremely tender balls were hanging vulnerably with no protection of any sort.

"No no n--" I tried to call out, but it was too late. Abby's foot came whizzing up between my spread legs at a crazy speed, and was abruptly stopped only when it made precise contact with my testicles. I gasped, and the strength in my arms gave out instantly, like a reflex, my face collapsing onto the floor. I was hoping to slowly and tenderly lower my hips to the floor to avoid any sudden movement, but in the time I was trying to figure out how to do that, Abby had reared back and her foot came crashing into my aching nuts from behind again. It seemed like she was kicking with the same force she did when I was standing, but because my balls were so much lower to the ground, her foot collided much lower in its arc, and therefore more of the energy from her strong leg was transferred to my unfortunate gonads.

I had collapsed entirely to the floor, laying in a fetal position, quietly sobbing. I stayed like that for a long time. Abby would periodically talk to me, but I didn't much register what she was saying, I just groaned in response. After a long time-- I can't really say how long-- I felt okay enough to lift my head and speak.

"Holy fucking shit," I said, my voice still hoarse and my face red. "Why did you keep kicking me when I was already down?"

"What do you mean?" Abby asked, the tone of her voice indicating that she thought this was a stupid question. "The 90 seconds weren't up. Why would I let my guard down before the fight was officially over? That would be a bad attitude. Besides, you practically presented yourself to receive more. I have to say I was a bit surprised, you're usually a much more strategic fighter than that. But it would have been silly for me to let up at that point."

"Oh my god," I said with a deep breath. My balls still hurt, but I had begun to feel at least okay, like I could bear to be in my body again. "Jesus Abby. You really ruined me with that one."

"Oh come on, it's not so bad," Abby said dismissively. Then she got that old mischievous smile on her face. "You just need to get the blood flowing again. Here, let me help you."

Abby reached down and put her hand on my side, and then turned me over so I was lying on my back. Even in my partially recovered state, the feeling of her soft hand on my naked skin was electrifying. But it was nothing compared to what came next. As I turned over onto my back and looked up at Abby, I was suddenly reminded just how naked she was-- which is to say, completely. My heartbeat shot up 20 bpm, and not because my balls were aching.

"We just need to get the blood flowing in the right direction," she said again, that playful smile on her face. Abby knelt down and then slowly lowered her naked body on top of mine, bit my bit, her neck rubbing against my neck, then her supple breasts resting on my chest-- at which point I though I might pass out from ecstasy-- her smooth stomach pressing into mine, and then her thighs, knees, calves, and, finally, crotch lowering down onto all of my equivalents.

"Ohhh," I moaned, this time with previously unknown pleasure. It was incredible how quickly I had pushed the pain in my balls to the back of my mind. I got hard quicker than I ever had in my life-- and boy was I hard. Abby smiled down at me, slowly combing her fingers into my hair and messaging my scalp, while the rest of her body slowly and slightly writhed on top of mine. Her breasts lightly rubbed against my chest as she moved herself back and forth, and then, after a moment, she started gently and ever so lightly rubbing her labia against the exposed underside of my incredibly hard cock. I can say with total confidence that it was the best I had ever felt in my life. I had never, never, never wanted to have sex more badly. I put my hands on her flanks, right above her ribcage on either side, and the feeling of her smooth skin underneath my hands nearly made me cum.

"I'll bet it doesn't hurt quite as much now, huh?" Abby asked teasingly.

"Oh my god," I said, overwhelmed with physical pleasure. "Abby, can I fuck you?"

She laughed. "Come on Colin, don't be silly. You know we're just friends. I wouldn't want to do something like that and jeopardize our friendship."

"Please?" I pleaded. "I really, really want to."

She gave me a playful poke on the nose. "Oh Colin," she said. "That's very endearing." She moved her crotch over mine again, creating all kinds of friction. "Wow, you really are hard, huh?"

With my hands still gripping her sides, I tried to surreptitiously slide my throbbing cock inside her, but of course she noticed.

"Colin!" she cried out with mock indignation, her face still covered with a playful smile. "That's so naughty!" She reached down beneath my legs and slapped my balls, shockingly hard. I was caught completely off guard, and suddenly reminded of how sore my nads were to begin with.

"Ahhh! Ahh!" I called out in shock. "Fuck!" I tried to curl my legs up but was prevented by Abby's naked body, still lying on top of me. She was laughing unrestrainedly.

"Oh my god! You should see your reaction when I do that! It's so funny. I never get to really appreciate it when we're sparring because I have to focus so much on the match." She slapped me again, just as hard.

"Ohhh! Fuck! Fuck!" I cried. Abby was still laughing uncontrollably.

"Wow, Colin, I never really appreciated how funny this was before." She had raised herself into a sitting position so that she was still pinning my legs down but she her arms were more accessible. She made a fist and punched me in the balls.

"Ohhhhh," I moaned. "Oh my god. Fuck."

Abby was adjusting herself on top of me. "But I feel like when you're lying down they kind of just roll out of the way when you hit them, you know? Wouldn't it be more effective if they were like, held in place?" As she was saying this, Abby reached out with her left hand and gripped my balls, pushing them out to the bottom of my sack so that they had nowhere to escape. She reared her fist back and punched into my completely trapped balls, astonishingly hard.

I tried to gasp but no sound came out. With my balls held in place in her left hand, every last inch of force from her punch had gone directly into my testicles, making this one of the most painful shots to the nuts I had ever experienced.

"Abby, please." I pleaded meekly. "This hurts so badly."

"Oh, come on Colin," Abby said, her left hand still firmly holding my balls. "We're just horsing around, don't make such a big deal about it." She punctuated her point by slapping my trapped balls with an open palm. A loud 'slap' echoed off the walls of her bedroom.

"Eeeeee" I cried out in a high pitched voice.

Abby was still laughing just as hard. "Oh my God, listen to you! I never would have thought you could make a sound like that."

"Okay, okay, please," I panted. "At least give me some time to recover."

"Oh, you're being such a baby," Abby said teasingly, but she did, at least, stop hitting my unbelievably tender balls. We lay there for a while longer, my testicles still in her hand, as I breathed hard and waited for the pain to subside. She would periodically tighten her grip on my sack, which was certainly uncomfortable at best, but I was so relieved that she wasn't smacking me anymore that I hardly minded.

"Okay," I said after a while. Abby's hand was still on my balls, but she had loosened her grip and was just holding them lightly. "I'm starting to feel a bit better."

"Great!" Abby said brightly, and, losing no time, brought her right hand back and smashed it into my balls yet again.

"Ahhhhhh!" I cried, feeling totally betrayed, all the delicate progress towards recovery my balls had made completely erased, launching me right back into the depths of total agony. Abby was laughing harder than ever.

"Hahaha," she almost snorted. "This is like my new favorite thing."

I lay on the floor considering my predicament. Even though I felt more drawn to Abby than any person I had ever known, it had already been hard to deal with her completely racking my balls on a weekly basis at the gym. And now it was seeming like she had discovered a newfound joy in smashing my balls recreationally. It added up to an existence of near constant threat to my most vulnerable parts; if Abby was going to continue to have such a central place in my life, that is. It was hard to reconcile how agonizing that would be, day in and day out. And yet, lying there on the floor, Abby's beautiful face hovering above me, her naked body mere inches from mine, her hands still all over my genitals, I felt more enthralled by her than ever. The thought of getting it in the balls from time to time seemed like nothing, a minuscule price to pay, just to get to see her, to hear her voice, to make her laugh. I was in love.

* * *

Some time had passed, and my friendship with Abby had developed to a point I could never have imagined. We were no longer sparring partners at the gym-- Margaret had assigned us both new opponents, as she regularly did every month or two-- but we had grown so close that I spent more time with her than any other person in my life.

Even though we were no longer officially training together at the gym, we continued to spar together in our free time, usually at Abby's house, and, at this point, usually both fully naked. After we tried it for the first time, Abby just could not get enough of it, and I couldn't get enough of giving Abby whatever she wanted. She was so hot that it hurt; it made me feel achey just to look at her, even with her clothes on. And I had somehow found myself in a situation where I got to shamelessly look at her naked body on a regular basis-- each time, I was completely overwhelmed all over again.

There was of course a price to pay for this real-life fantasy, which was that when we sparred Abby would routinely rack my balls. I did my best to protect myself, but the truth is that she was a better fighter than I was, and I could only hold her off for so long. It had become obvious that hitting my nuts brought her immense joy. When we first started sparring together, she would hit me there regularly, but it seemed to be a very practical matter; she was determined to emerge victorious, and making sure to get me in the balls hard was a pretty good way to ensure that would happen. But as we developed into closer and closer friends, Abby made little effort to conceal how delightful she found it to smash my babymakers. Sometimes it seemed like sparring together was really just a thinly disguised game, in which she was seeing how long I could put up a defense before she landed a devastating foot to my ballsack.

Getting it in the balls so often was awful, but I was more than happy to accept it in tandem with such an incredible intimacy with Abby. As we started regularly sparring naked, it would come to seem unnecessary to put our clothes back on afterwards, and we were soon spending a lot of our time together naked, even if we were just hanging out. I wanted her more badly than I could ever begin to tell you.

She talked all the time about how much she valued me as a friend, how much she didn't want to compromise our amazing friendship, how I was like a brother to her. But at the same time, she had become very handsy with me; it was obvious that she found me attractive, especially with my clothes off. She would often make excuses to touch me, and more and more she would touch me with no excuse at all. She would frequently, in a seemingly casual manner, reach out and touch my arm, my shoulder, my back, my chest; and as she grew more comfortable, my hips, my butt, and even, eventually, my genitals.

I found this behavior mind-numbingly confusing, even if I wasn't about to complain. She went on and on about how important it was that we were just friends, and then practically in the same breath she would hug me full-on, fully naked, her soft breasts pressing into my bare chest, while reaching down to cup my package in her hand. I could not wrap my head around it.

Following her lead, I would sometimes, tentatively, try to touch her too, putting my hands on her shoulders, her bare back; even, if I was feeling bold, her hips or her breasts. Sometimes she would accept these touches wordlessly-- or even, sometimes, respond with a soft moan of pleasure-- but at other times she would gasp playfully, say something along the lines of "Colin! That's so naughty!" and then land a backhand to my sack. Sometimes she would hit me light and playfully, just hard enough to get some feeling down there, but other times she would unleash a vicious sack tap, hitting what seemed like as hard as she could, causing me to double over or crumple to the floor, my testicles positively aching. She didn't seem to appreciate or understand the difference; she would laugh giddily either way. It was a disorientingly unpredictable situation; I never knew how she would react to any slight action on my part, and there didn't seem to be any pattern. But I wanted her so badly that I was almost always willing to risk it.

One day in particular is burned indelibly into my memory. We were at her house, as we often were, and we had finished sparring. She had hit me in the balls a few times throughout the fight, as she virtually always did, but other than one really solid kick, they had mostly been glancing blows, and I was feeling like I had avoided the worst of it. Abby seemed to have a slight air of disappointment about her; although maybe my memory is only adding that detail in retrospect.

We were still naked, and as I stood to catch my breath, Abby sat down on the edge of her bed, right in front of me, so that her head was level with my crotch. She avidly crawled her gaze up and down my front-- it seemed like she was particularly interested in my body today-- and reached out her hands, running her fingers along the sides of my torso. I was still a bit winded from sparring, but any physical attention from Abby could never fail to send a jolt through my veins. Then, looking down again at my fully unclothed genitals, she spoke.

"What does it feel like to have your testicles hit?" She asked in a perfectly casual tone.

The question made me gulp, but I tried to remain outwardly composed. "Oh, um, well--" I stammered, feeling my face redden. "It, uh, you know; it feels awful."

She frowned slightly, almost imperceptibly-- her thinking face. "It hurts a lot?"

"Uh, yeah," I confirmed uncomfortably. "I would say it hurts a lot."

"Like what?" She pressed. "Like, does it hurt as much as when your funny bone gets hit?"

I almost felt like laughing. "Oh my God," I said with some indignation in my voice. "It's not even close. Compared to getting hit in the balls, a hit to the funny bone doesn't even register. That's like asking if stubbing your toe hurts as much as getting run over by a car."

"Well what does it feel like?" She asked. "How would you describe it?"

"I mean, I don't know," I said, scratching the back of my head. "It's a really unique experience. I guess the closest I can think of is, it feels a lot like getting hit really hard in the stomach, only way, way worse."

"Oh my God!" Abby said animatedly. "I once got hit in the stomach by a volley ball; it hurt so badly! I almost don't think anything could hurt worse than that."

"Yeah, well," I said, a tiny bit irritated, "I've been hit in the stomach, and I've been hit in the balls, and getting hit in the balls hurts so much worse that it's hardly even worth comparing them."

"And it hurts like that regardless of how hard you get hit?" she asked, with genuine curiosity in her voice.

"Well, not exactly," I said, still a bit uncomfortable with the conversation. "When you get a soft or even a medium hit to the balls, it hurts really badly-- your balls and even to some extent your stomach ache terribly, and it feels awful. But when you get hit really hard, like a full-force kick, it's a whole other level. It's like your entire body just becomes a conduit for the most intense pain it could be possible to feel. It's like pure, distilled agony is coursing through your veins."

"Wow, that's really fascinating," Abby said, with sincere interest.

'Uh, I guess," I said, shifting my weight nervously. I was still standing, naked, directly in front of Abby as she sat on the bed, and I was feeling particularly on display, especially as she would periodically glance down to take unapologetic glimpses at my crotch.

"So let me get this straight," Abby continued in a very matter-of-fact voice. "You're saying if I hit you like this--" and with startling quickness she lifted her arm and landed a firm backhand into my naked ballsack. She connected very solidly, with a good amount of force, and a loud 'smack' reverberated in the room.

"Ohhhhh," I groaned, doubling at the waist and then quickly sinking into a miserable squat. Her hand had connected with perfect accuracy, and that familiar, terrible feeling was resonating from deep within my balls. "Ohhh, my balls," I moaned.

"--you're saying if I hit you like that," Abby continued nonchalantly, "It doesn't really hurt?"

"Ughh, that's not what I was saying at all," I groaned from the floor. "This hurts so badly."

"Oh, okay," Abby said thoughtfully. "I guess I misunderstood you." She had gotten up from the bed and was now standing over me as I curled up at her feet.

"But still," she went on. "I'm just trying to understand the distinction. Here, stand up," she said, putting her hands on the sides of my torso to help bring me to an upright position. Although it was still hard to stand, Abby's hands on my naked skin was an irresistible motivating factor. "I just want to get this straight. If I get you there like this--" and before I could react in any way, Abby took a half step back to gather her momentum, and then quickly launched her right foot into my crotch, connecting with my jewels with all the force her martial-arts-trained body could muster, a soft grunt of exertion escaping from her pretty mouth "--it hurts a lot worse?"

I collapsed in an agonized heap on the floor. She had kicked so hard. And this was no layperson's kick; she was a highly skilled martial artist, well trained to focus the maximum amount of force possible from her agile frame into each strike. This kick would have broken a wooden board cleanly in two-- I'd seen it happen. But instead of a piece of wood at the receiving end of her foot, it was my utterly unprotected testicles, the most vulnerable part of me; the part of me that was vulnerable to even a light flick from a finger, let alone a kick like this.

I curled in a pitiful ball at her feet, devastated by the pain. Not so long ago, when receiving a truly merciless nutshot was still a novel experience for me (i.e., when I first met Abby), my body would, after a couple minutes, be so overwhelmed by the pain that my sense of feeling would sort of shut off, and I would experience a kind of paralysis that was at least tolerable. But, perversely, after spending so much time with Abby and getting racked so frequently, it seemed that my body had developed some sort of tolerance, such that it would no longer go into shut-down mode, leaving me fully sensible and sensitive to every last minute of the awful pain. My muscles were shaking with the pain; I ached deep down, somewhere even deeper than my testicles, deep in the core of me, at what I could only imagine was my soul.

"So getting hit like that hurts worse?" Abby asked again, her only noticeable reaction a mild curiosity.

"Ohh, God," I whimpered, my voice shaky and high-pitched. I hardly registered what she was saying. I had moved out of a fetal position, and was now on my forearms and knees, my forehead pressed into the carpet, my butt raised slightly in the air.

"Hello, Earth to Colin?" Abby called out in mock impatience. She reached down beneath my butt and playfully slapped my smarting balls from behind. "Are you hearing me?"

"Ahhh!" I shrieked. She didn't hit me that hard, but I was so tender that any hit at all was unbearable. I tried to fall back to the floor but Abby had taken my balls in her hand to prevent me from going anywhere.

"Can you let go?" I asked meekly.

"Just answer my question first," she said.

"What was the question?"

She laughed, rolling my balls around in her right hand. "I was just trying to confirm that getting kicked hard like that hurts worse than getting sack tapped."

"Uh, yeah," I replied reluctantly, nervous about her grip on my nuts. "It hurts worse."

"Cool, gotcha," Abby said, as if I had just told her what the weather was supposed to be tomorrow. She gave me one little squeeze and then let go of my nads.

I lay on the floor in a heap, overwhelmed with pain. Abby was talking to me but I couldn't really focus on what she was saying. I could tell just from the tone of her voice, though, that she found the situation intensely amusing.

Then she began to do something she had done a couple times before after a particularly devastating kick, which was to tease me sexually. She knelt down and gently rolled me onto my back, speaking cooingly to me, and her voice started to come back into focus.

"... going to be just fine. I'll bet we can speed up the process with some gentler attention."

She ran her hands softly up and down my chest and my stomach as she spoke, her fingers making it a little further below my waist with each stroke. She had done this sort of thing once or twice before, but she seemed now to be losing her composure a bit; I could see her swallowing visibly as she ran her fingers over my body, and her breathing had become more audible.

"Maybe you'll think this is weird of me to say, but I think you look so cute when you're on the floor," Abby said, her voice becoming slightly breathless. She was feeling my torso more firmly. "God Colin, some girl would be so lucky to have you; you really have an amazing body."

"Oh, uh; thanks," I said uncertainly. My nuts were still hurting plenty bad, but the pain now had to compete for attention with the amazing sensation of Abby running her hands up and down my body. She reached down without hesitating and grazed her fingertips over the exposed underside of my penis, which I had told her once (in confidence) was one of my favorite ways to be touched sexually. I tried to stifle a moan of pleasure as I quickly got rock hard.

"Jesus, Colin." Abby said, a tinge of hoarseness in her voice; it was obvious that she was getting turned on. "You have an amazing cock." As she said it she started stroking me with more pressure, and she reached down with her other hand to gently fondle my balls while she did so. Her eyes were locked onto my crotch.

She was driving me crazy, and I did not fail to notice that she seemed, right now, to want it as bad as I did. I felt like there was an opportunity here that rarely presented itself.

"Abby, do you want to have sex?" I asked as she continued to stroke my cock.

"Ohh," she hummed, biting her lip. "I just... I just think it will complicate things, and I..." she was breathing heavily. "I don't want it to complicate our friendship."

"It doesn't have to," I said, trying to maintain a calm tone of voice while my head was swimming with how amazing it felt to have her hands all over my genitals, her breasts inches from my face as she leaned over my body. "Don't you think it would feel so good to have my cock sliding in and out of you?"

"Ohh. Yes," she said, her voice trembling. I had never seen Abby like this, and it was adding to the thrill I felt from her touch.

"We'll both really like it," I coaxed. "And we'll still be best friends. It doesn't have to change anything."

Abby sat up, shuttering, as if to collect herself. "Ohhhh Colin," she said longingly. "Okay. I want to." My heart leapt in my chest. "But with one condition: I don't want you to cum."

I wasn't expecting that, and I wasn't sure how to react. "Uh, what?" I asked. "Why?"

"I just feel like that's a line where it really feels different," she said. "Like, you're my best friend, and you happen to be really hot, and have a really nice cock, and I just feel like it would feel so nice to feel you inside me-- and I think that can make sense, for friends to do that for each other. But if you cum it feels more serious, like then we're really doing something that friends don't do."

I did not think this made any sense, but I sure as hell wasn't about to put up any argument when I had already gotten this close.

"Okay, that's fine," I told her.

Abby let out a deep breath. "Okay, good."

"It's just, you know--" I squirmed a little bit, rubbing my arm. "I'm not, uh, always great at-- you know, like, stopping it at a certain--"

'It's okay," Abby cut me off, putting a soft finger to my lips. "I'll take care of it."

I wasn't sure what that meant, but again, I wasn't about to argue. Abby went over to a drawer and pulled out a metal baton she had from when she ran track and field. The vague and mildly alarming thought that she wanted to peg me ran briefly through my head, but in retrospect, its true purpose should have been obvious. Either way, I forgot about it almost immediately.

She came back over to me and lowered herself onto the floor, then slowly lay down on her back, propping herself up with her elbows, looking at me with big, lustful eyes.

"Okay," she said. "I'm ready."

I paused briefly to consider this surreal moment. Abby, who I was more attracted to than anyone else in the world, was lying on her back on the floor in front me, naked, biting her lip in impatient anticipation of receiving my cock. She looked more amazing than she ever had; I guess that's the nature of things.

I knelt down between her legs and got on my knees, right in front of her. I slowly moved my hard dick forward until it was touching her labia. As soon as the head of my cock grazed the outside of her, she gasped, way louder than I could have expected. She was like a compressed spring, ready to go off. I slowly slid my cock all the way inside her.

"Ohhhhhh," she moaned loudly as I entered her. "Ohhh, Colin; wow."

I slowly worked up a steady rhythm, sliding in and out of her. She was making blissful whimpering sounds beneath me. I took her left breast in my hand, and she moaned loudly. I had copped a tentative feel of her amazing boobs before, but only hesitantly, unsure and afraid of how she would respond. This was the first time I had felt them with total freedom, and I couldn't believe how soft and good it felt in my hand. I rubbed her nipple in a circular motion underneath my thumb and she groaned with pleasure. I suddenly became preoccupied with the thought that I was holding Abby's boob in my hand; and not only that, I was using it as a hand-hold to make it easier to hold her down and fuck her. It was all too much.

"Ugh, Abby, I'm pretty close to--"

"It's okay," she said, looking up at me with an expression of pure reassurance on her face. She reached down beneath the tangle of our legs with the hand that was still holding the baton, and quickly brought the end of it up into my balls.

"Ooooo," I cried, in shock; I had absolutely not seen that coming. I braced myself to be overwhelmed with pain, but she hadn't actually hit me very hard, and it only hurt a little bit; the pain was easily subsumed by how good everything else felt. And, sure enough, while I had felt like I was right on the edge of cumming a second ago, I didn't anymore.

"Just let me know whenever you feel like you're close," she said choppily as I continued to thrust into her. "And I'll give you a little tap."

"Okay," I agreed. My balls were a little sore, but it seemed like an infinitely small price to pay in order to keep fucking Abby for longer than I otherwise would have been able to. Thirty seconds later I felt close all over again. "Ohh, geez, I'm, uh... you know." Abby smiled up at me and hit my balls with the baton again. I grunted with the impact and thrusted even harder in response, causing her to squeal.

I needed it a lot; everything about this was so hot. I probably asked her to tap me five times in the next two minutes. Otherwise I would never have been able to control myself.

"Ohhh, Colin, you feel so good," she said with lust in her voice as I changed up my rhythm.

"Mhm," I grunted in response. With a glimmer in her eye she reached down and swung the baton into my nads, a bit harder than before.

"Ohh," I called out. "What was that for?"

"I could tell that me saying your cock felt good turned you on too much," she said through a big grin. She wasn't wrong. I gave her a good hard thrust in return and she gasped, the grin instantly wiped off her face.

I had grown a lot more confident since we started, mostly on account of knowing I wasn't in much danger of cumming by accident. I slowly slid my shaft out and started to gently tease the outside of her, barely brushing the head of my cock back and forth against her labia.

"Ughhh, Colin, what are you doing?" Abby said with vexation.

"Teasing you," I replied matter of factly, continuing to just barely rub my cock head against her opening.

"Ugh, no, I don't want you to tease me," she moaned. "I want you to thrust into me nice and hard."

"Hmm, maybe later," I said coyly. I was enjoying immensely how frustrated and wanty I was making her.

She made a face at me while reaching down between my legs, and then smacked the baton into my balls, much harder than before. This was not a gentle tap to discourage cumming; she had absolutely smashed my nads with the heavy metal baton.

"Ohhh, fuck," I cried out, falling forward into an unintentional thrust. I thrust into her a few more times out of fear, but my balls really hurt a lot, so I pulled half-way out of her hoping to take some time to recover.

"Ugh, Colin, no! Don't stop!" she said with frustration. She reached her hand back in between my legs and hit my sack with the baton again, even harder than the first one. My balls had tightened up in my scrotum, as they usually did when I had sex, so they were held firmly in place and had no hope of escaping her merciless hit.

"Ahhh!" I cried, in enormous pain. My balls hurt badly, but I started thrusting into her again out of fear she'd keep hitting me.

"Mmmm," she cooed contentedly. "That's a good boy."

I now felt more apprehensive, and somewhat physically hampered by the throbbing in my balls, but I was still plenty capable of enjoying sex with my dream girl. I gave her some slow thrusts, letting every last millimeter of my cock put as much pressure as possible on her silky insides.

"Oh, fuck, that feels good," she said breathlessly. Then without warning she reached down and gave my balls another hard slap with the baton.

"Oww!" I called out, my balls stinging. "What was that for?"

"Oh, uh, I'm not sure... I just kind of... wanted to. Um--" She gave my ballbag another solid whack.

"Ohhh," I moaned, my balls truly aching now. "Abby--"

Again she slammed the baton into my unprotected balls.

"Fuck," I choked out hoarsely, and collapsed on top of her.

"Sorry Colin," Abby said pantingly. "We can rest for a moment if you need to."

"Yes please," I said. I lay pressed against her, my dick still buried inside her, my chest pressed against her soft breasts. My balls hurt so badly, but underneath me Abby continued to writhe slightly even though we were supposedly resting, moving her hips in a circular motion, trying get my cock to create more friction inside of her.

"Can I be on top?" She asked, after barely any 'resting' time at all.

"Sure," I said. Even with some battered balls, I was still elated at each new sexual development.

She eagerly slipped out from underneath me, turned me over onto my back, and climbed on top of me. She eased my cock inside her, and was soon riding me fanatically. It was an amazing view of her; I could see her whole naked torso at once, her breasts bouncing, her firm stomach, her lithe flanks, and I had a perfectly clear view of her face, the face I found more beautiful than any other, as it processed each new paroxysm of pleasure. Her hands were all over me, running through my hair, touching my face, rubbing my chest and my stomach. She had quickly worked herself into a state of desperation up there.

"Oh God, Colin," she moaned, her voice breathless. "I'm really close. I think I'm-- Oh God-- I'm gonna-- Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh--"

As she started to cum, she quickly reached down between my legs and took hold of my balls, and as she grinded even harder against my cock, bringing herself over the edge, she started squeezing. At first it was not much more than a firm grip, but as her orgasm grew in intensity she began squeezing harder and harder. As she reached her climax-- her face thrown towards the ceiling, her eyes closed, her mouth open and yelling in short, staccato yelps-- her hand had closed around my balls in a death grip. I was becoming terrified, as the pressure on my testicles was unbearable, and if anything it seemed to be increasing. I tried feebly to free myself from her hand, but it was no use. Her orgasm lasted a ridiculously long time; it must have been thirty seconds, but it felt like forever and a half. Eventually she started to slowly come down, breathing heavily and making quiet little yelping sounds to herself, and as she did she slowly loosened her grip on my jewels. I immediately curled up into a fetal position, cupping my balls, and Abby-- oblivious as far as I could tell, her eyes closed in bliss-- happily snuggled up to me, spooning me contentedly.

"Ohh, Colin," she cooed, a dreamy quality in her voice. "That was amazing."

"Mm," I replied. I wasn't really able to speak, but I did agree with the premise, even if my balls hurt too much at the moment to say so. Luckily for me, Abby was too dazed to require any attention, and she peacefully spooned me as I slowly recovered.

After some time had passed I started feeling better, and I rolled over onto my back, resting my hands on my chest. Abby propped herself up on one elbow next to me, smiling hugely. Despite the abuse my balls had taken, I was still ecstatic beyond all description that this was happening, and I was still extremely turned on. Abby started absentmindedly playing with my penis with her free hand.

"Oh," I said softly, quickly getting maximumly hard again; I was beginning to feel the tension in my body from being so turned on for so long without any release.

"Uh, I thought you said we weren't going to cum?" I asked uncertainly.

Abby gave me a look like I was crazy. "What?" She asked indignantly. "I said I didn't want you to cum."

"Huh?" I asked, perfectly confused. "I thought you said cumming makes it feel too much like it's pushing the boundary of friendship."

"Colin, just think about it," she said, as if I was being incredibly slow. "How am I supposed to not cum after you thrust your cock into me so much, and after your naked body has been on top of me, rubbing against me, for so long? That would be crazy-- you turned me on way too much for that. What I said before is that if the boy cums, it makes it too serious; that's not something friends would do with each other. Like, that's something I would do with a boyfriend. But I value you as my best friend too much for that."

She continued to play with me as she spoke, and my cock was positively twitching underneath her hand. I was, undoubtedly, more sexually worked up than I had ever been in my life, and I wasn't sure what to do with this knowledge that I wouldn't get to cum.

"Yeah, I guess I get that," I said hesitantly. "It's just that, you know-- I'm really turned on too. And, you know, I would love it so much if you made me cum."

Abby smiled at me, as beautiful as she ever was. "Oh Colin," she said. "That's really sweet. I don't want you to feel sexually frustrated-- but I think I can help make it go away without compromising our friendship." And just as she finished saying this, she took her hand off my penis and quickly slapped my balls with an open palm.

"Ahh!" I squealed, caught by surprise, even though by now I probably shouldn't have been. Still lying on my back, I lifted my legs up as if in a supine fetal position, but I failed to comprehend that this didn't actually protect my testicles, which now were now a completely unobstructed target framed by my bent legs. Abby slapped them two more times, each harder than the last.

"Ohhhh, fuck," I cried miserably. I tried to roll over, but Abby was now holding my legs, preventing me from moving. She was laughing unrestrainedly.

"Geez, I always forget how funny this is. I wish you could see the look on her face when I hit you; it's hilarious!" And to punctuate her point, she slapped my nads again, the hardest one yet.

"Jesus fuck," I moaned hoarsely, in the throes of agony and trapped in this position where Abby had complete access to my balls. Without saying anything, she hit them twice more, this time with a closed fist.

"All right, let's see how that does for you," she said, putting a bow on it with a final stinging slap to my ballsack before letting me curl up and roll over. "Hopefully by the time you recover from that, you won't still be horny. If you are, I can help you out some more."

It sounded like two equally terrible options. Never in my life had I experienced such wild vicissitudes between utter pleasure and utter pain. At the moment, my whole being was subsumed in agony. But as I looked up from the floor at Abby-- a pleased look on her beautiful face as she stretched her naked body, bringing her arms over her head and yawning, so that her breasts rose to the top her chest, and then fell back down with a bounce when she released the stretch-- I thought to myself that I would do it all again, no question; and I would keep doing it, too, if I had the chance.