Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Scraps #1

Sorry this blog has been dead for so long -- I've been focusing elsewhere. Here's a short snippet to let you know I'm not dead, though.
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With a deep breath, the brunette pulled her foot back and slammed her hardest kick up between the man's legs.


The pain that followed was infinitely more than he had expected.  As the female's foot rocketed up into his crotch, he could feel her toes sinking into his ballsack, the twin spheres distorting around the force of her blow.  But what he felt was mostly just shock...that is, until her foot hit his pelvis, and his testicles were suddenly trapped between her amazing kick and his unforgiving bone.  Time slowed even further as he felt his manhood flatten, smashed flat like pancakes, his mind exploding in agony as his eggs were stressed to the breaking point.


The woman, too, seemed to experience the whole thing in slow motion: her foot striking upwards into the man's heavy seedsacks, the twin orbs rolling off to either side of her foot before being crushed into his pelvis. She could feel his tortured testes trying to escape the force of the blow, abandoning their usual spherical shape as they attempted to squirm out from between her toes, but it was useless: her kick had trapped them perfectly.


The man just stood there, still trying to process the pain as his family jewels re-descended from where his partner had kicked them up into his throat. And then, just as he thought he might be able to survive this agony, the second wave hit, more powerful than the first: nausea ripping through his gut, the rest of the world forgotten as he collapsed to his knees, clutching his battered balls. 


He was completely silent for a moment, frozen in a tableau of pain, before finally giving out a tiny, tiny squeak.  The woman started to giggle at this response but was cut off as he gave out a second, longer squeal, toppling forward into the fetal position.  "My..." he managed to say, voice several octaves higher than normal.  "My--" 


"Your what?" the brunette asked, folding her arms across her chest.


He froze again, brain searching for an escape from the blinding agony.  "My...my...my /BALLS/!" he finally screamed, doubling over anew, clutching whatever was left of his manhood.  "OH MY GOD, MY /BALLS/!" 


"Relax," the woman said coolly, smirking down at her partner as he writhed on the ground.  "They're still intact.  I woulda felt one pop if they weren't."


But the man was still inconsolable: he jerked spastically, hands clamped over his testicles to protect them from any further injury.  In the middle of his torture he tried to inspect his sack, to make sure the twin orbs were still there, but he couldn't tell through the pain, and he couldn't believe they would've survived such a vicious kick.  Now the kick flashed through his mind again: the mental image of her foot sinking into his groin; his testicles flattening until *pop*, they were nothing but mush; the woman's sick smile, knowing she had just ruined a man's fragile babymakers.