u/LeoFalchi

I first met Chloe at trade school, in the electrical program. I noticed her right away. Partly because she was one of the only girls out of a hundred or so students, but mainly because she was really hot. She was blonde, with a cute face that seemed stuck in a permanent smile. Her height was average, but she looked taller because she was so skinny, and that slim frame made her big perky tits look even bigger. They sat high on her chest and bounced a little every time she laughed.

I spent the whole day admiring her from afar. She was easily the most popular girl in the program, and the other guys swarmed her during every break, so I never found an opening to talk to her.

When class let out, Chloe gathered her things, walked out the door, and I was happy to see she headed off on foot in the same direction as me. She had to live in my neighborhood.

Over the following days, whenever class got boring, I kept observing her from afar. I had a feeling she used to be a bit of a tomboy, because she got along best with the guys. She was still very much a girl, but she joked around with the male students without any hesitation, trading insults and shoulder punches like one of the boys. She was constantly surrounded by a little court of suck-ups, all of them like me, probably dying to get into her pants.

One guy, Derek, tried a slightly different strategy. His looks were pretty average, so I have no idea where he found the confidence, but he started flirting with her at every opportunity, loudly and obnoxiously.

Chloe didn't seem to mind at first. I think she found it funny.

When class ended, Derek insisted on walking her home. Chloe let him, but I could tell she was getting annoyed. His hand kept drifting toward her waist and she kept sidestepping it.

I walked half a block behind them, hoping he would go too far and give me the chance to play the white knight. I passed the time admiring her tight little butt swaying as she walked. For such a skinny girl, she had surprisingly muscular legs, toned calves flexing with every step.

Derek kept pestering her, leaning into her space again and again, and she finally had enough. She stopped dead, turned toward him, and very casually sent her boot flying up between his legs. The kick landed so deep I could see the tip of her boot poke out behind Derek's ass.

Derek froze on the spot. His eyes crossed, his mouth fell open, and his hands hovered uselessly at his sides while his brain caught up with his balls. Then a strangled squeak came out of him, several octaves above his normal voice, and he crumpled straight down onto his knees. From there he toppled sideways into a hedge, curled up like a shrimp around his crushed nuts, shoes twitching in the air.

Chloe looked down at the results of her handiwork, one hand on her hip, a satisfied little smile on her cute face. She wiggled her toes inside her boot, tilted her head at the groaning lump in the bushes, and giggled.

My heart was pounding like a drum at what I had just witnessed. I had always had a huge ballbusting fetish, so watching Chloe demolish Derek like that instantly became the sexiest thing I had ever seen. I kept walking toward them while Derek writhed helplessly on the sidewalk, and that was when Chloe noticed me.

"Hey! You're in my class, right?" she called out, waving me over. "Mind giving me a hand getting him onto that bench?"

I jogged over like my life depended on it. Derek was still folded in half on the ground, both hands buried between his thighs, rocking back and forth.

"Come on, big guy, up you get," Chloe said, grabbing him under one armpit.

I took the other side and we hauled him up together. Derek's legs wobbled like wet noodles, so we half carried, half dragged him to the bench a few meters away and dropped him onto the seat. He immediately slumped sideways and curled up again, hiccupping between groans.

"My... my balls," he mumbled into the wooden slats, his voice totally wrecked. "She got... oh god, my balls."

"Shhh, it's okay," Chloe said, patting his head like a good dog.

I stood there awkwardly, my eyes darting between her and the whimpering wreck next to her. My mouth spoke before my brain could stop it.

"Wow. You kicked him really hard."

Chloe let out a light little laugh, like I had said something silly.

"Haha, you guys are always so dramatic. That was just a good tap. I've given plenty of kicks way harder than that," she said, giggling.

I felt my face go warm. Despite my fetish, I had always been embarrassed by the weakness of my gender.

"Oh. Well, um. Maybe he just has weak nuts or something," I offered.

Chloe burst out laughing, her big tits bouncing with it. She threw her head back, then wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.

"Weak nuts?" she cackled. "Weak and nuts are pretty much the same word. All you boys have weak nuts. Every single one of you."

She punctuated the sentence by poking a finger into Derek's shoulder. He answered with a miserable groan and curled up even tighter.

Once I got home, I was so worked up that I had to jerk off twice before my dick finally calmed down.

That single kick had elevated Chloe from a hot girl I was interested in to a full-blown infatuation. I could still picture it perfectly every time I closed my eyes. Her boot swinging up, Derek's eyes crossing, the little giggle she let out while he crumpled. I now had one goal and one goal only: find a way to get closer to her and, hopefully, experience her ballbusting skills for myself.

The thought alone made me shiver. Getting kicked by Chloe, those toned legs swinging up between my thighs, her satisfied smile looking down at me while I crumbled at her feet.

There was just one problem. I absolutely did not want to get busted in front of the other students. If I collapsed in front of the whole class the way Derek did, crying and holding my balls while everyone filmed it on their phones, it would be far too humiliating. No, if I wanted Chloe's foot in my nuts, it had to happen in private.

So I had to be patient and wait for the right opportunity.

Over the next few weeks, I got to witness Chloe in action a few more times. Mostly quick sack taps when she was joking around with a classmate. Nothing serious, just her hand darting out, a yelp, and her laughing while the guy doubled over for a minute.

But the best one happened at the weekly party the students threw every Thursday, at someone's place near campus.

A drunk guy from the plumbing program was getting handsy with one of the girls from my class. He kept grabbing at her waist and pulling her back every time she tried to step away, and the situation was escalating. Guys were starting to stand up, the girl was getting visibly upset, when Chloe simply walked over.

She came up behind him, planted her foot, and delivered a brutally hard kick from behind, straight up between his legs.

I was lucky enough to have a front row seat. I happened to be standing a few meters in front of the guy, looking at the commotion and wondering if I should intervene, when I saw her leg swing into view between his legs. I watched her foot crush his nuts dead on and watched his face crumble in real time. She clearly hadn't lied about that kick she gave Derek. This one was much, much harder.

The guy went stiff as a board. His hands shot down between his legs and he rose up on his tiptoes, mouth open in a silent scream, eyes staring at nothing. Then a long wheeze escaped him, like air leaking out of a balloon, and his knees knocked together. He slowly toppled forward and hit the floor flat on his face, ass slightly up in the air, both hands crushed under his pelvis, and just laid there twitching and drooling on the carpet.

The whole party went dead silent for a second, then erupted into laughter and cheers. Chloe took a little bow.

I stood there with my heart hammering. Looking at her foot as she balanced back on her heel, I realized the guy's nuts had probably only survived that kick because the impact came from the top of her foot, and because she was wearing flat sandals that night instead of her usual boots. If she had been wearing boots, if the hard toe of a boot had connected with that much force, she would have popped them like grapes. The thought made my stomach flip.

It also terrified me, because I was next in line, if I ever worked up the nerve. I suddenly understood exactly what I was signing up for.

The fear and the arousal hit me at the same time. My dick swelled up in my jeans, rock hard, right there in the middle of the party. I grabbed the nearest cushion off the couch and held it casually in front of my crotch, praying nobody noticed, while the drunk plumber was carried out the front door by his friends, still cupping his balls and moaning.

My opportunity finally came a couple of weeks later. The instructor split us into pairs for a wiring project, and luck, or fate, put me with Chloe.

"I want to get this done quickly," she said after class, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "Are you free today? My place is ten minutes away."

My place is ten minutes away. Those words played on repeat in my head the whole walk. This was my chance!

We actually worked for about an hour, spread out on her living room table, her bare feet tucked under her on the couch. I was distracted the entire time by her big tits swaying whenever she leaned over the diagrams, but somehow we got through half the project.

Then she got bored. I could see it happening. Her pen started drifting away from the paper, and she flicked it at me. I flicked it back. She threw a gummy bear at my head. I threw three back at her. She shrieked and grabbed the whole bag, and soon we were wrestling over it, giggling like idiots on her couch, her body warm and soft against mine.

At some point I got her arms pinned over her head, both of us laughing and out of breath.

"Say uncle," I said.

"Screw you," she laughed, squirming under me.

This was my chance. But I couldn't help but feel fear. Images of Derek folded on the sidewalk, of the plumber flat on his face and drooling, flashed through my head. Every guy in her orbit ended up the same way. I knew exactly how this play-fight ended. I wanted it, but could I take it?

But my dick was already getting hard against her hip, and there was no way I was stopping now. The arousal won, like it always did.

So I did the dumbest, smartest thing of my life. I smirked down at her and puffed out my chest.

"You can't do anything , I've got your hands" I teased, inching my hips closer, practically begging her.

The smile on her face changed into something else entirely. She stopped squirming.

Chloe went completely still under me, and I felt her thigh shift between my legs.

"How about this?" she asked sweetly.

Her knee rocketed up. She didn't need a running start, she didn't even need her hands. My legs were spread wide around her, my weight dropped low to pin her, and my balls were hanging right there, practically gift-wrapped.

Her kneecap slammed into them with all the power of her toned leg. Both of them, dead center, crushed flat against my pelvis.
My brain whited out. My hands sprang open on pure reflex, releasing her wrists, and my whole body locked up. I couldn't even scream at first, the pain was so total that no sound came out. My mouth just hung open while my lungs forgot how to work.

"Oh! Gotcha!" Chloe chirped underneath me.

I sagged down onto her,wrapping into her chest, my face burying itself between her big soft tits. My hips jerked backward, trying to escape the knee still pressed against my aching sack, but my body had nothing left. My arms gave out and I slid off her, tumbling off the couch and landing in a heap on her living room floor.

That was when the sound finally came out. A long, high squeal that didn't even sound like my voice.

"My balls," I wheezed, both hands clamped over my crotch, knees pulled up to my chest. "Oh god, oh god, my balls."

I rocked back and forth on her carpet. It hurt so much more than I had ever imagined. Watching Derek and the plumber had done nothing to prepare me for the deep, nauseating ache that was spreading through my entire gut, the way my stomach felt like I needed to puke.

I had gotten exactly what I asked for, and part of me was already regretting every life choice that had led me here.

Chloe sat up on the couch and peeked over the edge at me, her blonde hair spilling over her face, grinning from ear to ear.

"Awww, nooo," she cooed, resting her chin on her hands. "Was that too hard for your weak little nuts?"

I couldn't answer. I just groaned and curled up tighter, and she burst out laughing.

I lay there groaning on her carpet, still cupping my throbbing balls, while Chloe rolled onto her belly on the couch and propped her chin in her hands to watch me suffer.

"Hey, question," she said, curious. "Was that your first time getting racked?"

I peeked up at her between my fingers, face burning.

"Wh-what? No. I mean... yeah," I croaked.

Chloe's grin got even wider.

"I knew it! I could totally tell," she said, delighted. "You left yourself wide open. Legs spread, everything just hanging out. A guy who's taken a hit before knows to protect the goods."

She wiggled her bare toes behind her, swinging her feet like a bored teenager.

"Honestly, you basically begged for it. You pinned me and then just sat there with your nuts out like a present."

"Couldn't... just... kick less hard ?," I groaned, still rocking on the floor.

"Less hard?" she snorted. "Sweetie, I didn't knee you that hard. I was on my back so I couldn't put my weight into it."

She reached over the side of the couch and patted my head, the same way she had patted Derek's.

"Don't worry, everybody's first time is rough. Derek cried for ten minutes, and I also barely tapped him."

"I'm not crying," I muttered.

"You're not crying yet," she corrected, giggling. "Give it a minute. It comes in waves."

She was right, of course. Another surge of nausea rolled through my gut and I curled up even tighter, pressing my forehead against her carpet.

"Awww, there it is," she cooed. "Wave number two. Try to relax and think how much worse it could have been."

Honestly, laying on the floor of her apartment, holding my aching balls while she looked down at me with that satisfied smile, it hurt like hell, but some twisted part of me was already thinking about how I could engineer a next time.

Part 1

It had been a few weeks since Emily almost crushed his testicles but Jake was now fully recovered. His balls hung loose and healthy again.

Emily and Jake had fallen into an unusual friendship. She came over whenever she felt like it, and usually Jake ended up on his couch with his pants around his ankles while she knelt between his legs. She was very good with her mouth. The catch was that she almost never let him finish. Emily had a thing for blueballs. She loved leaving him aching and swollen, giggling about how it reminded her of how they met.

Tonight was one of those nights.

Jake slumped into his couch, his sweatpants tangled around his shoes, while Emily bobbed between his thighs. She wore one of his old t-shirts and nothing else. Her huge tits swung free underneath, brushing his legs with every movement of her head. Her lips slid down his shaft, slow and wet, and Jake's toes curled.

"Fuck, Emily," he groaned.

POP. She pulled off him, a string of spit connecting her mouth to his tip.

"Remember when I kneed you in the elevator?" she asked sweetly, pumping him lazily with one hand.

"Oh god. Yes."

"I can still feel it. Both of them going flat against my knee. Like little pancakes." She squished his balls gently in her palm to demonstrate and he whimpered. "They've gotten plump again though."

*Please just let me cum. Please.*

She took him deep again, all the way to the root, and held him there while he twitched. Then she pulled off and slowed everything down. His hips pushed up on their own, chasing her mouth. She pulled back further, teasing the tip with little flicks of her tongue.

"Slow down," she cooed. "I need to ask you something."

"Anything. Emily. Anything."

"My roommate moved out. Did I tell you?"

"Yes, please, keep going."

"My best friend Jenny is taking her room. We're moving her stuff in on Saturday. We need a man with strong arms." She squeezed his balls, just firm enough to make him gasp.

"I'll do it. Whatever you want."

"Good boy." She rewarded him with five fast strokes of her hand, right to the edge, then let go completely. His cock bobbed in the air, straining and red.

"You'll love Jenny," Emily said, sitting back on her heels. Her tits rested heavy on her chest, nipples hard. "She's a swimsuit model. That's how we met, actually. I do some modeling on the side to pay for nursing school. We got booked for the same beach shoot two summers ago and we've been glued together since."

Jake tried to reach for his own cock. She slapped his hand away.

"She's got great tits. Almost as big as mine." Emily cupped her own breasts and shook them at him.

"Don't touch yourself before Saturday, okay? I want those full." She poked his balls with one finger. "I wanna swallow a big load."

Fuck she's so hot I can never say no to her.

"See you Saturday, Jakey." She pulled the t-shirt down, grabbed her shorts from the floor, and dressed right in front of him while he sat there throbbing and helpless. She kissed his forehead at the door, patted his throbbing hard on, and left.

Saturday came fast. Jake stood in front of Emily's apartment door at ten in the morning, wearing jeans and a work shirt, ready to haul boxes. He knocked.

Emily opened it in gym shorts and a cutoff top, hair in a ponytail. "Right on time! Come on in, pack mule."

Her place was chaos. Cardboard boxes everywhere, half assembled furniture, rolls of tape on every surface. Emily steered him inside by the shoulders.

"Jenny! The help is here!"

A door down the hall opened and Jenny walked out.

Jake forgot how to breathe.

She was stunning. Asian American with long black hair that fell past her shoulders in glossy waves. Her almond shaped eyes were dark and warm, set above high cheekbones and full smiling lips. Her skin was smooth and golden. She wore a black sports bra and tight grey shorts, and the outfit showed off everything. Her body was slender and toned, flat stomach, narrow waist, long legs. And her tits were enormous. They strained against the sports bra, huge and round and high on her slim frame, a deep line of cleavage squeezed up the middle. Emily had told the truth. Almost as big as hers, but they somehow looked even bigger on her skinny body.

What a goddess! Wow.

Jenny padded over barefoot, hips swaying, chest bouncing with each step, and stuck out her hand with a bright grin.

"So you're Jake! Emily has told me so much about you."

Her voice poured over him like honey, low and smooth with a little rasp at the edges.

"Jenny," Jake croaked, shaking her hand. Her fingers were soft and warm.

"I love how you two met," she said, leaning against the doorframe of her new bedroom. Her tits shifted in the sports bra as she settled her weight on one hip. "It is honestly the best first meeting story I have ever heard. The spray. The boot to the nuts. The elevator knees." She giggled, and her whole chest bounced. "Cinema."

"It's a classic," Emily called from the kitchen area, taping a box shut.

"A real love story," Jenny agreed, fluttering her lashes at Jake.

Jake felt his face go hot. She's so hot.

Jenny took a slow walk around him, her bare feet silent on the floor, looking him up and down like he was furniture she was thinking of buying. "She told me she really got you good. Both times."

"His balls went completely flat against my knee," Emily said proudly. "I felt them squash."

"I felt like dying," Jake muttered.

"They were so swollen after," Emily went on. "Like plums. This big." She held her hands up in two fists. "Purple. I was worried I ruined them."

Jenny laughed, a throaty delighted sound. She stopped in front of Jake, closer now. "You know, I did the same self defense course."

"Oh really?" Jake said weakly, embarrassed by the topic.

"We signed up together," Jenny said. "I loved it. Best money I have ever spent. The instructor had this dummy with realistic genitals." She bounced on the balls of her feet with excitement, her heavy tits jiggling with the motion. "Kick, knee, stomp. I got top marks in groin strikes."

"She has a mean kick," Emily said. "The instructor loved her."

Jenny's smile faded. Her lips pushed out into a genuine pout, thick and glossy, and she looked at Jake with wide sad eyes. "But I have never gotten the opportunity to kick a real pair of nuts." She stepped even closer, almost chest to chest with him, her voice dropping to something soft and sultry. "Emily has gotten to do it twice! It's not fair!"

"A true crime," Emily snickered from the couch.

They got to work.

Jake hauled box after box up from the van, his shirt sticking to his back, while the girls unpacked around him.

At some point Jake came back up with a box of dishes and found the two of them huddled in Jenny's new bedroom, heads together, whispering. He caught bits of it.

"One?" Emily whispered.

"Mmm, or maybe more?" Jenny giggled.

"His poor balls," Emily giggled back.

They both looked up and saw him in the doorway. He came back up with a box of dishes and both of them burst out laughing.

"What?" Jake asked.

"Nothing," they said at the same time, and dissolved into fresh giggles.

By six that evening, the van was empty and the boxes were all inside. Sweaty and sore, Jake collapsed onto the couch in the living room. The girls finished hanging the last shelf, then exchanged one more look and a mutual nod.

Emily walked over and dropped onto the couch on his left. Jenny followed and curled up on his right, pulling one long smooth leg beneath her. Jake was sandwiched between four enormous tits and two mischievous smiles. His pulse jumped.

"So Jake," Emily said, patting his thigh. "We talked about you."

"I noticed."

"We have a proposal," Jenny purred. Her fingers walked up his arm. Her lips were shiny and her dark eyes gleamed. "A trade."

"What kind of trade?"

Jenny slid even closer until her tits pressed softly against his arm. She spoke slowly, letting every word sink in. "Tonight, Emily and I will take you to bed together. Both of us. Everything you can imagine. My mouth. Her tits. All night if you can."

Jake's brain short circuited. Both of them. All night. That's so fucking hot!

"We promise it will be the best night of your life," Emily said, kissing his neck.

"What's the catch?" Jake asked, because there was obviously a catastrophic catch.

The girls looked at each other. Jenny bit her lip and beamed.

"You let me kick you in the balls first," she said. "For real. Full force. Barefoot so I can feel it properly."

Jake's balls shrank against his body in terror. "One kick?"

"Mmhmm. Just the one." She held up a single finger. "Full force though. I want the real experience. I have been dreaming about it since the course."

"And then we have so much fun." Emily added.

"Lots of fun," Jenny repeated, grinding her tits into his arm. "You can finish as many times as you want."

Jake stared at the ceiling. Memory flashed through him. The elevator. The knee smashing his nuts flat against his pelvis. The way he had sobbed on the tile. Jenny's kicks were supposed to be mean, Emily had said so herself. Top marks in groin strikes.

Then he looked left at Emily's chest, then right at Jenny's. Round, heavy, pressed against his arms on both sides. Two absolute goddesses offering him their bodies.

Those tits. Oh god. Those tits are worth one kick.

His cock, traitor that it was, stiffened fast in his jeans. Both girls noticed at the same time. Jenny giggled and Emily snorted into her hand.

"I think part of him already voted yes," Jenny said, biting her lip.

Emily took his hand and placed it on her breast. It overflowed his palm, soft and warm and huge. Jenny guided his other hand to her own tit, even firmer, the nipple poking hard against his fingers through the sports bra.

"Well, Jake?" Jenny whispered in his ear. "Do we have a deal?"

"Deal," Jake whispered.

The girls squealed and squished him between their four tits in celebration. Then Emily pulled him to his feet.

"Right now?" Jake asked, his voice cracking.

"No time like the present," Jenny said brightly, already stretching. She did a slow hamstring pull against the wall, her long leg straight up in the air, her huge tits nearly spilling out of the sports bra. Then a few practice swings, her bare foot cutting the air in front of Jake's face. Fast. So fast her foot seemed to teleport.

That's fast. Fuck. The tits are worth it. The tits are worth it.

"Pants down," Emily ordered.

"Fuck me, this is happening," Jake muttered, tugging his jeans and boxers to his ankles. His swollen cock bounced free.

Emily giggled and stepped behind him. She slid her arms under his armpits and locked her hands behind his neck, then planted her feet between his and nudged his stance wide. Her soft tits squished warm against his back.

"Now you won't be able to flinch, babe," she said into his hair.

Jenny finished stretching and walked over slowly, bouncing on the balls of her feet, chest heaving. She stopped an arm's length away and looked down at his exposed sack, both testicles hanging low and doomed.

"They're so cute," she cooed, cupping them lightly and weighing them in her palm. Jake shuddered. "But I'm gonna mess them up now." She let go and winked.

She took a step back, twisted her hips, and raised her leg high, toes pointed.

Fuck no. I changed my mind.

"Wait," Jake squeaked.

Jenny's hips snapped forward. Her leg blurred.

THWUNK!

Her bare foot connected dead center with both testicles. They compressed completely, squashed into perfect flat discs against his pelvis for a sick instant before the flesh tried to spring back. The slap echoed off the walls of the second bedroom.

Jake's eyes bulged. His mouth dropped into a silent scream. Then the sound came, high and shredded, louder than anything Emily remembered from the elevator. His whole body bucked in her grip.

"Oh my god," Jenny gasped, covering her mouth with both hands. "I felt them! I actually felt them flatten!"

Jake's whole body jackknifed forward. Emily still had her arms hooked under his, his legs spread wide, and as he folded she felt his full weight start to sag toward the floor.

A wicked thought flashed through her mind.

"Wait, wait," she chirped, planting her feet between his.

Jenny's kick had left his testicles dangling low and swollen, right there between his spread thighs like two ripe grapes on display. Emily let him go then swung her leg back and snapped it upward from behind.

THWOK!

The top of her bare foot rocketed up between his legs and cracked into his hanging balls from below, driving them up and flat against the underside of his pelvis. They squashed completely, compressed into nothing between her instep and his bones.

Jake's scream jumped even higher, a teakettle shriek that hurt the ears. His whole body convulsed.

"Oh! Sneaky!" Jenny squealed in delight.

Emily watched him collapse face first onto the carpet. His hands flew between his legs, cupping the wreckage. He curled into the tightest little ball, shivering like he was freezing, his whole body trembling in waves. Sweat poured off his forehead in seconds. His mouth worked open and shut but only thin whistling wheezes came out.

My balls my balls my balls my balls

His stomach heaved. Once, twice. Then he vomited hard onto the carpet, retching in sharp painful jolts that made his crushed testicles throb even worse. He heaved until only bile and strings of spit came out. His pupils rolled back behind fluttering eyelids. His fingers slackened off his swollen sack.

"Jake? Jake, hello?" Emily poked his shoulder.

He gave one last long whimper and his body went completely limp. Out cold.

Silence hung in the new bedroom for two seconds.

Then both girls burst into delighted giggles.

"We destroyed him!" Jenny shrieked, bouncing on the balls of her feet, her huge tits jumping in the sports bra.

Emily laughed and grabbed her hands. They high fived over Jake's unconscious body, then spun together in a silly victory dance, four gigantic breasts swaying everywhere.

"We got him so good," Jenny gushed. "Just wham, straight into the nuts!"

"I couldn't resist getting mine in!"

Jenny flopped down on the edge of her new mattress and grinned at her handiwork. "I can't believe it. They went completely flat, Emily. Flat flat."

"Best deal I ever made," Emily agreed, wiping vomit off Jake's chin with a tissue. "A threesome with me in exchange for two kicks to the balls. Men are cheap."

"I bet he regrets it," Jenny snickered.

A low groan rose from the carpet. Jake's eyes fluttered open, glassy and wet. The first thing he registered was the atrocious pain in his testicles, two throbbing lumps of pure agony that pulsed with every heartbeat. The second thing he registered was two gorgeous faces hovering over him.

"He's alive!" Jenny announced.

Tears welled up in Jake's eyes and spilled down his temples into the carpet. His bottom lip wobbled. "You kicked me twice," he whimpered, his voice cracking. "The deal was one kick. One."

Emily tilted her head innocently. "One from each of us. Obviously."

"What?" he croaked.

"Jake, the deal was a threesome. With two girls." Emily spoke slowly, like she was explaining something to a small child. "One kick for me. One kick for Jenny. You get to fuck both of us, so we both get one kick. It's obvious."

"Nobody said that," Jake sobbed.

"It was implied," Jenny said seriously, nodding.

"Obviously," Emily agreed.

Fuck. Fuck. It hurts so bad. They really fucked up my nuts.

"You squealed really high on mine," Jenny said proudly. She put her hands around her throat in a perfect imitation. "EeeEEEeee!"

"Like a teakettle," Emily giggled."You really screamed like a little girl."

More tears leaked out of him. He cupped his swollen balls with both hands, rocking gently on the carpet. They felt enormous, hot and heavy and twice their normal size again.

Emily leaned over and peeled his hands away for a peek. Her fingers prodded them clinically. "Hilariously swollen again," she diagnosed. "We really do a number on you."

"I thought you really crushed them this time," he moaned.

Jenny wiggled her chest at him while she laughed, her huge tits swaying side to side in the sports bra. "Aw, poor baby. Are your little ballsies sore?"

"Don't," Jake whined.

Emily sat back on the mattress and looked him over. His pants were around his ankles, his tear-streaked face said he was in no state to get up any time soon.

"You know what?" she said to Jenny. "He's in no shape to keep his end of the deal tonight."

"Nope," Jenny agreed, climbing fully onto the bed. "He can barely talk, let alone fuck us."

"We promised him a threesome," Emily said thoughtfully.

"Whether he participates is kind of a him problem." Jenny corrected.

Emily nodded solemnly. "Very solid reasoning."

"Start without me?" Jake squeaked in alarm. "Fuck no, I earned this, I have earned this so hard, twice over."

"Obviously you can still join if you can," Emily said sweetly. She reached behind herself and peeled the cutoff top over her head, her tits spilling free, bare and huge. "If you recover fast enough."

Jenny pulled off her own sports bra in one smooth yank. Her tits dropped out, big and round and perfect, and she tossed the bra down directly onto Jake's face. He snuffled against the fabric, fresh tears leaking again.

"You two are evil," he mumbled through the bra.

The girls were already crawling toward each other on the mattress, giggling, hands sliding over smooth skin. Emily kissed Jenny's neck. Jenny palmed Emily's breast with a happy little sigh.

"Just rest your balls, baby," Emily purred over her shoulder. "Jenny and I will warm everything up for you."

Jake’s feet ached after a long shift and all he wanted was to get home. He walked with his head down, hands in his pockets, counting the cracks in the pavement. Then he looked up and saw her.

A woman with blonde hair streaked with dyed red walked a few meters ahead, dressed in a crisp white blouse and a tight white mini skirt that hugged her curves. Her heels clicked a steady rhythm on the sidewalk. Jake’s gaze dropped to her ass, watching it sway with each step. *That is a perfect ass.* He felt a stir of arousal. She walked with confidence, her shoulders back. As she moved, he caught glimpses of the sides of her breasts bulging past the line of her torso. *She has to be packing some serious tits under that blouse.*

She turned right at the next corner. That was his route too. *Lucky! Nice, we’re going the same way.* The street was empty, the shops all closed, the streetlights casting long shadows. He realized how it must look: a lone man trailing a woman on a deserted street. *I hope she doesn’t freak out.* She flicked a glance over her shoulder. He saw her profile, she looked gorgeous. She faced forward and kept walking. Jake considered slowing down, letting her get ahead, but he wanted to get home before the evening news. *Fuck it. I’m not doing anything wrong. I’m just walking home.*

She turned another corner onto a darker side street. Jake followed, this was the street where his apartment was. He rounded the corner and froze.

The woman stood directly in front of him, facing him, her hand raised with a small canister.

Instant hiss. A cloud of stinging mist hit his eyes. Fire exploded in his skull. Jake screamed, his hands flying to his face, but everything went white then black. He was blind, eyes burning like acid.

*What the hell?!*

Before he could react, a rush of air and then a brutal impact slammed between his legs.

**CRUNCH!**

A shockwave of agony blasted through his groin. His testicles flattened under the toe of her boot, crushed against his pelvic bone with sickening precision. Pain obliterated all thought.

*Fuck she kicked my nuts*

Jake’s mouth opened but only high pitched whines came out. He doubled over, hands abandoning his eyes to clutch his rapidly bruising testicles. He collapsed to his knees, then toppled onto his side on the cold concrete. His legs curled up, knees drawing to his chest, as he rocked and gasped.

“Guh… nhh… my balls…” His voice was a squeaky, breathless whisper. “You … you crushed my balls…” Drool leaked from his slack mouth. He wanted to scream but his lungs had no air. He just rolled slightly, forehead pressed to the ground, ass in the air, shivering and sweating. Tears and snot mixed with the burning chemical on his face. Every slight movement sent fresh waves of nauseating pain from his flattened testicles. He imagined them pancaked, maybe destroyed.

“That will teach you creep.” Her voice was cold and flat.

Through his ringing ears, he heard the click of her heels resume. Tap tap tap. They faded into the distance, each step a fresh humiliation. He lay in the gutter, blind, broken, whimpering into the pavement.

----------

The next morning,Jake stood naked in front of his bathroom mirror, his face pale and sweaty. His eyes still stung from the pepper spray. His gaze drifted down to the disaster between his legs. Both testicles had bloomed into swollen purple messes, twice their normal size, the skin stretched and dark like overripe fruit. He winced. *They look like bruised plums.* He gingerly cupped them, hissing through his teeth at the slightest contact. *At least they're not ruptured.* The weekend meant he could hide in his apartment and heal.

His stomach growled. He hadn't eaten since the kick, the pain too overwhelming for food. He shuffled to his kitchen, still walking with a wide legged waddle. He opened the fridge. Empty shelves. A single expired yogurt. *Fuck. I have to go out.* He dressed slowly, pulling on loose sweatpants and a hoodie, every movement a careful negotiation with his tender sack.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft ding. Jake limped inside, eyes fixed on the floor numbers. Then he looked up and his heart stopped.

The blonde woman stood in the corner. She wore a tight white sundress today, her hair loose around her shoulders. She was even more stunning up close. And young, early twenties maybe. Plump lips. Bright blue eyes. Her breasts pushed against the fabric of her dress, full and round. Jake's mouth went dry. *Oh no. Oh no no no.*

Her eyes narrowed. Recognition flashed across her face. "Ah! Are you stalking me?!"

Before he had time to try to justify himself, she stepped forward, her sundress swishing around her thighs. Her knee rocketed upward. **THUMP!**

Jake's testicles compressed against his pelvis, the swollen tissue screaming with fresh trauma. His voice vanished.

*Fuck, not again!*

Before he could even crumple, her knee dropped and then launched again with brutal speed. **CRACK!**

The second impact caught him even deeper, smashing both testicles flat against his body. A strangled squeak escaped his lips. Pain blinded him. His legs gave out completely. But she kept her knee pressed firmly upward, lodged against his shattered groin, pinning him briefly in place. His body sagged, his hands weakly pawing at her thigh.

"Guhnnnnngh," Jake gurgled, drool slipping down his chin. His eyes rolled back. The world swam.

She withdrew her knee and Jake slid down her body, his face brushing against the soft cotton of her dress, then her bare shins, until he collapsed in a heap on the elevator floor. He curled into a tight ball, knees to chest, hands clamped over his wrecked testicles. Tears streamed down his cheeks. He opened his mouth but only tiny wheezing sounds came out. Nothing made sense. Only pain existed. Pain and the shape of her knee.

Jake wheezed on the elevator floor, his body locked in the fœtal position. Through the haze of agony, he managed to force out the words. "I live here. Fourth floor. Apartment 4B."

The woman froze mid-step, her heel hovering over the elevator threshold. She turned back, her expression shifting from righteous fury to wide-eyed horror. "Oh my god. You're a neighbor?"

Jake could only nod against the cold floor, a thin strand of saliva connecting his lips to the tile.

"Oh no. Oh no no no." She rushed to his side, crouching down, her smooth bare knees pressing against the floor. "I am so sorry. I thought you followed me from yesterday. The streets were empty and you turned every corner I turned and I just panicked."

Jake whimpered. His testicles throbbed like twin hearts.

"Here, let me help you." She hooked her hands under his armpits and hauled him upward. He was dead weight but she managed, her body surprisingly strong against his. The side of his face pressed against the soft swell of her breast through the thin sundress as she propped him against the elevator wall.

The elevator dinged. Fourth floor. She walked him down the hall, her arm wrapped around his waist, his arm draped over her shoulders. Every step sent jolts of pain through his body.

"Which one was it again?"

"4B," he croaked.

She fished his keys from his hoodie pocket and opened the door. His apartment was a modest studio. She guided him to the couch and lowered him onto the cushions. He sank into the fabric, hands still cupped protectively over his crotch.

She knelt in front of him, her blue eyes brimming with genuine guilt. Her sundress gaped open at the neckline, offering a generous view of her cleavage. Her breasts were full and round, the pale inner curves pressing together. Jake tried not to stare.

"I am so, so sorry," she repeated, her hands clasped in her lap. "I did a self-defense course last month. The instructor drilled into us to strike first and ask questions later. It's become a reflex. I just saw you and my body reacted before my brain caught up."

Jake groaned. "It's okay."

"It's not okay. I pepper sprayed you yesterday and kicked you in the testicles. And then I just kneed you in the testicles. Twice." She winced. "That second one was really hard too. I felt them splatter against my knee."

*You felt them splatter?* Jake thought miserably.

"I'm Emily," she offered, extending her hand, then withdrawing it awkwardly when she realized he was in no state to shake.

"Jake," he managed.

"Listen, Jake, I'm a nursing student. Third year. I know about anatomy and trauma." She gestured at his lap. "I should take a look. Make sure I didn't do any permanent damage."

Jake's eyes widened. "I don't think that's necessary."

"No, I insist. I need to know if you need a hospital." She shuffled closer on her knees, her dress riding up her thighs. "Can you pull down your sweatpants?"

*Is this really happening?* With trembling fingers, Jake hooked his thumbs into his waistband and inched the sweatpants down past his hips. His boxers followed.

Emily leaned in. Her face was just inches from his groin. "Wow, I really got you good." A small giggle escaped her lips before she caught herself. "Sorry, sorry. Professional."

Her fingers touched him, delicate and cool. She gently cupped his ballsack, turning it this way and that. Her thumb traced the swollen contours of his right testicle. Jake sucked in a sharp breath.

"The swelling is significant but the tissue feels intact. No rupture." She probed the left side, her fingers rolling his testicle gently. "This one's tender too but also whole. You're lucky. If I'd connected a centimeter higher I might have ruptured something."

Jake's eyes drifted down. Her dress hung open, and he had a perfect view of her massive breasts cradled in a white lace bra. They swayed slightly as she worked, her nipples visible through the thin fabric. His mouth went dry.

"I'm going to check the spermatic cord," she murmured, her fingers sliding higher. She palpated the tube connecting his left testicle to his body. Then the right. The sensation was clinical yet intimate. She bit her lower lip in concentration.

Jake felt a stirring. Despite the pain, despite the swelling, despite everything, the sight of this gorgeous young woman crouched between his legs, handling his testicles, her tits practically spilling out of her dress, was too much. Blood began to flow south. His penis twitched and started to rise.

"Oh," Emily said. Her hands paused. A flush crept up her cheeks. "Oh my."

His erection continued to grow, stiffening upward, the tip brushing against her wrist. She didn't recoil. She just watched it happen, her lips parted slightly.

"Well," she said, a small giggle escaping again. "I guess not everything is broken."

Emily watched his erection rise, her fingers still cupping his bruised testicles. A slow smile spread across her lips. "Wow, you have a really nice dick."

Jake's face flushed crimson. "Thanks?"

She withdrew her hands and sat back on her heels. "I feel terrible about what I did. Let me make it up to you." She gestured at his stiffening cock. "It's a good way to check that everything still works."

She caught his eyes drifting down to her cleavage again. "Wow you really like my boobs I see." She giggled, a bright musical sound. Her hands went to the straps of her sundress, sliding them off her shoulders. The white fabric pooled around her waist.

Jake stared. She reached behind her back and unclasped her bra. It fell away and her tits bounced free, jiggling slightly from the movement. Her breasts were magnificent. Heavy and round with pale pink nipples that hardened in the cool air of his apartment.

Emily giggled again. She shuffled forward on her knees, positioning herself between his legs. Her hands wrapped around his shaft, warm and soft. She guided his cock between her breasts, pressing the massive mounds together around him. The sensation was incredible. Soft warm flesh enveloped his length as she began to move up and down.

Jake groaned, his head falling back against the couch cushions. "Oh god."

"You like that?" Emily looked up at him with big blue eyes, her pink lips curved in a playful smile. Her tits slid along his shaft, the friction perfect. She spit on his tip and the added lubrication made everything slicker. The sound of her breasts slapping gently against his pelvis filled the room.

He watched her work, mesmerized by the sight of his cock disappearing and reappearing between her massive pale tits. Her nipples brushed against his thighs. Her breathing quickened.

"I can feel you throbbing," she murmured. "I think everything still works."

She lowered her head and took him into her mouth without warning. Her lips wrapped around his tip while her hands continued to work his shaft. Her tongue swirled, tasting him. Then she swallowed him deeper, her throat relaxing, taking inch after inch until her nose pressed against his pubic bone.

"Fuck," Jake gasped.

Emily pulled back with a wet pop, a strand of saliva connecting her lips to his cock. She pumped him with both hands, her strokes fast and eager. Her breasts bounced with the movement. "Come for me," she whispered. "I want to taste it. After what I did to your poor balls you deserve it."

She took him deep again, her throat working around him. The pressure built in his groin, pleasure overriding any lingering pain. His hands gripped the couch cushions. His hips bucked involuntarily.

*I'm gonna come.*

He erupted. Hot spurts shot down her throat and she swallowed greedily, her tongue milking every drop from him. She didn't pull away until he was completely spent. Then she sat back, licking her lips.

"Wow," she said, a giggle bubbling up. "That actually tasted really good. Maybe it's because your balls just got crushed." She laughed, her breasts jiggling with the movement.

Jake slumped into the couch, utterly drained. His deflating cock rested against his stomach. His swollen testicles still ached but the pleasure had dulled the pain.

Emily stood up, pulling her sundress back over her shoulders. She didn't bother with her bra, stuffing it into her purse. "I really am sorry about your testicles. But I'm glad everything still works." She leaned down and kissed his cheek. "Take care of those, okay? Ice them. And maybe don't follow women down dark streets anymore, even if you do live there."

She walked to the door, her heels clicking on his floor. "Bye Jake."

part 3

I limped home that afternoon with Miss Silson's note crumpled in my fist. My balls were so swollen I had to stop and lean against a fence every few minutes, pretending to check my phone while I caught my breath. The pressure in my groin was unbearable. My cock kept twitching in my pants, half hard from the memory of Maya and Miss Silson's tits. Every bump in the sidewalk sent a jolt through my bruised nuts.

At home I collapsed on my bed and stared at the ceiling. I unzipped my jeans and pulled out my cock. It was hard again within seconds, standing straight up, the head purple and slick. My balls looked like oversized plums, the skin stretched and bruised. I wrapped my hand around my shaft.

One stroke. My nuts pulled up tight and a spike of pain shot through my groin. I gasped and kept going. Two strokes. The pleasure started to build. Three strokes. I was getting close. My balls contracted and the cum started to rise. Then the pain flared so sharply that my hand flew off my dick and I curled into a ball, clutching myself. The orgasm died. My cock twitched and leaked and went soft.

The next morning I dragged myself to school. Walking was a real challenge. Sitting was almost worse. I had to keep my legs wide open to avoid pressing on my swollen sack. By lunch I was desperate and exhausted and then the idea hit me.

Kim. She was an exchange student from Korea. She'd only been at our school for a semester. Maybe she didn't know about the girl's code. If I could convince her to help me out just this once I could finally get relief and no one would ever know. She was playful and curious and she had stared at me after her kick with something that might have been sympathy. I just had to be smart about it.

I found her after last period at her locker. She was wearing a fitted white tank top and black leggings, her sleek black hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her D-cup tits sat firm against the thin fabric, the shape of her sports bra visible. She turned as I approached and raised an eyebrow.

"Wow, you're still walking really funny." She looked me up and down, noting my careful stance and wide legged walk. "Your little nuts still hurt?"

"That's what I wanted to talk about," I said, keeping my voice low. "Can we go somewhere private?"

Kim tilted her head. "Private? Why?"

"I have a problem. Down there." I gestured vaguely at my crotch. "I think something might be wrong and I can't exactly ask a doctor. You're the only person I can think of who might be able to help."

Her dark eyes narrowed with curiosity. "What kind of help?"

"Just take a look. Tell me if everything looks normal. I'm really worried."

She studied my face for a long moment. Then she shrugged and closed her locker. "Fine. Follow me."

She led me through the empty hallways to the wrestling room behind the gym. The room was small and windowless, with thick blue mats covering the floor and padded walls. Kim locked the door behind us and turned to face me.

"OK. Show me what's wrong."

I unbuttoned my jeans and pushed them down to my knees. My boxers followed. My balls hung between my thighs, swollen to the size of small oranges, the skin a patchwork of purple green and yellow. My cock was already half hard from the anticipation. Kim stepped closer and crouched down, her face inches from my groin. Her eyes widened.

"Wow. These are still really messed up." She reached out and cupped my sack, lifting it gently. Her fingers were cool and firm. "They're hot. And really full." She tilted my nuts to the side and examined the bruises. "So what's the problem? Besides the obvious."

I took a deep breath. "I can't cum. I think the kicks might have broken something. Every time I touch myself it hurts too much. So I haven't cum in five days. I was hoping you could help me out. Since it's mainly because of your kick."

Kim looked up at me. My cock was now fully erect, jutting toward her face. She looked at my hard dick, then back at my swollen balls, then at my face. Her expression shifted from curiosity to understanding to something much harder.

"You're lying," she said flatly.

"No I'm not."

She stood up and crossed her arms under her chest, pushing her tits up. "I know blue balls when I see them. They wouldn't look like that just because you've not jerk off in five days. You've been edged. Multiple times. And you came to me because you thought I wouldn't know about the girl's code."

My face went pale. "Kim, I wasn't trying to-"

"Don't." She held up her hand. Her voice stayed calm but her eyes were flashing. "You tried to trick me. You thought just because I'm a foreigner I wouldn't know the rules. You were going to use me to get off and then I would be in trouble with every other girl in this school." She stepped closer and grabbed my balls, squeezing them just hard enough to make me whimper. "Do you have any idea what would happen they found out I helped you cum after they spent all this time edging you?"

She released my sack and stepped back, shaking her head. "Five days is nothing by the way. Back in Korea I blueballed my boyfriend for three months straight. It's how you train a man. You build up his frustration until he'll do anything for you." She uncrossed her arms and a slow smile spread across her face. "But you. You tried to pull a fast one on me. So now I have to punish you."

"Kim, please."

"Take off your clothes and lay on the mat."

I hesitated. She raised an eyebrow and cracked her knuckles. "I can just crush your nuts now if you prefer. But I thought you might want to keep them." She pulled her tank top over her head and tossed it aside. Her sports bra was white and tight, her D-cups pressing against the compression fabric with perfect symmetry. Then she shimmied out of her leggings, revealing tight black shorts that hugged her athletic thighs. Her body was incredible, toned and sleek, every muscle defined. She looked like a goddess.

I stripped off my jeans and shirt and lay on the mat. She knelt beside me and wrapped her fingers around my cock. "I'm going to edge you now. Maybe if you're lucky I'll make a mistake and you get to cum?" She giggled.

She stroked me once and my cock jumped. "Boys always think with their dicks. So you have to use their balls to train them. It's really the only way."

She lowered her head and took me into her mouth. Her lips wrapped around my shaft and she sucked hard, her tongue swirling around the head. The pleasure was instant and overwhelming. My hips bucked off the mat. She grabbed my thighs and held me down, bobbing her head up and down with expert precision. I could feel the cum rising already, the pressure building at the base of my spine.

"Mmm," she hummed around my cock, and the vibration pushed me right to the edge.

She pulled off with a pop and grabbed my balls. Her fingers clamped down like a vise, crushing both nuts in her palm. I screamed and my erection deflated instantly, the blood rushing away from my cock as pain took over.

"Good boy," Kim said, releasing my sack and patting my thigh. "That should keep you calm for a bit." She squeezed my balls again lightly and giggled. "Your nuts are so full. I can feel how backed up you are." She tilted her head and watched my cock start to stiffen again. "There it goes. Already getting hard. You're so easy."

She bent down and took me in her mouth again. This time she used her hand too, stroking the base while she sucked the tip. I was climbing fast. The mat felt like it was spinning. I bit my lip and tried to hold back, tried not to let her know how close I was. Maybe if I didn't say anything she would let me finish. Maybe she'd get distracted.

"Uh oh," Kim said, pulling off again. "You were holding your breath. That means you were close." She squeezed my nuts again, harder this time, her small fingers digging into the tender bruised flesh. I yelped and grabbed her wrist but she didn't let go for a full five seconds. My cock went soft and my balls throbbed with fresh pain.

"You can't hide it when you're close," she warned, her voice playful. "I can always tell. The way you breathe changes. The way your balls tighten. The way your stomach muscles clench. I've done this a lot." She pulled off her sports bra and let her tits bounce free. Firm D-cups, perfectly round, with small brown nipples that were already stiff. She straddled my chest and pressed her breasts together, sliding them along my cock. "Now let's try this."

The titjob was incredible. Her tits were firmer than Maya's or Miss Silson's, but still soft enough to create a perfect channel. She moved with precision, pumping my shaft between her mounds while she looked down at me with a satisfied smile. I stared up at her toned stomach, her perky tits, her dark eyes. I was so close. So close.

She pulled away. Squeezed my nuts. I screamed. She laughed.

"Your balls are so responsive," she said, examining them. "They're getting even more swollen." She poked my left nut gently and I flinched. "Does it hurt a lot?"

"Yes," I whimpered.

"Good. You should have thought about that before you tried to trick me." She lowered her head and took me in her mouth again. This time she sucked harder, faster, building me up with ruthless efficiency. Her tongue did something crazy on the underside of my shaft and my eyes rolled back. I was RIGHT THERE. The orgasm was building, the cum was moving, my balls were tightening.

She pulled off and grabbed my nuts. This time she twisted. I shrieked so loudly my voice cracked into a squeak. She held the twist for ten full seconds while I slapped the mat and kicked my legs. When she finally let go I was sobbing.

"There we go," she said gently, stroking my hair. "Now I can edge you again."

She edged me ten more times after that. Each time she used her mouth. Each time she squeezed my balls until my erection died and the pain overrode everything. By the end I was a shaking wreck on the mat, my cock purple and leaking, my nuts so swollen they looked like overripe fruit.

"OK," Kim said, standing up. "Now for the punishment part. Stand up."

I couldn't move. My legs were jelly. My balls were screaming. She grabbed my arm and hauled me to my feet. I stood wobbling on the mat, my cock still hard despite everything, my nuts hanging heavy between my thighs.

"Last time I kicked you I made you puke," Kim said, stepping back and settling into her stance. "That was a normal kick. Pretty far from my max." She cracked her neck and flexed her toes against the mat. "But now you made me angry. So this is going to be worse."

"Kim, please. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'll never try anything like that again."

"I know you won't. Because when I'm done you won't even think about sex for a month." She stepped forward and grabbed my balls in her hand, her small fingers wrapping around the entire swollen mass. She squeezed with all her strength, her knuckles turning white, her forearm trembling with effort. My balls compressed in her grip like they were going to pop.

"AAAAIIIIIIIEEEEE!" I wailed, my voice so high it was almost a whistle. I grabbed her shoulders to keep from collapsing.

"That's the warmup," she said, releasing me. I doubled over, clutching my groin. "Stand up straight or I'll really crush them."

I managed to straighten up, tears streaming down my face. Kim backed up two steps and bounced on the balls of her feet.

"Here's what's going to happen. I'm going to give you three kicks. The first one is for trying to trick me. The second is for being stupid enough to think I wouldn't notice. The third is for making me angry." She raised her right foot and chambered it against her knee. "Ready?"

Before I could answer her foot snapped forward. The top of her foot connected with my left nut dead center. The force drove the testicle up into my pelvis.

"HRRK!" I grunted, my whole body jerking.

She chambered again immediately, snapping her other foot into my right nut with the same precise force.

"BLLLEGGGH!" Bile rose in my throat as both nuts exploded with pain.

Before I had time to fall, she spun on her back foot and whipped her right leg around in a roundhouse kick. Her shin slammed across both nuts at once, the impact so powerful it lifted me off the mat.

My mouth opened but no sound came out. My eyes rolled back and my body hit the mat sideways. Everything went black.

When I came to I started puking. The pain was still out of this world and I felt myself shivering. I almost passed out again. I rolled onto my back and looked down at myself. My cock was soft, finally, but my balls were unrecognizable. They had swollen to the size of grapefruits, each testicle the size of a fist. The skin was stretched so tight it looked like it might split. The bruises had turned black, deep dark patches that covered the entire surface. I couldn't see the individual nuts anymore. The swelling had merged them into one massive throbbing mass. I touched my sack gently and immediately threw up again on the mat.

I lay there in my own puke for a long time before I could crawl to my clothes.

Part 2

I spent the entire weekend in bed. My balls were so swollen I had to lay on my back with a pillow under my hips to keep pressure off them. Every time I shifted in my sleep the pain woke me up.

By Monday the swelling had gone down slightly but it still hurt really bad. I waddled through the hallways at school, keeping my legs apart, avoiding eye contact with every girl I passed.

The worst part was the backup. Four days without release had turned my balls into cramped overfilled balloons. I had tried to jerk off Saturday night. I got hard easily enough, thinking about Chloe's massive tits, about Jenna's hands on me, about Kim's perfect body. But the moment I started stroking the motion jiggled my nuts and the pain killed my erection. I tried again Sunday morning with the same result. By Monday I was walking around with a constant heavy ache in my groin that had nothing to do with bruises. My balls felt packed full, dense and sensitive.

Tuesday morning I woke up with morning wood that could cut glass. I reached down and tried again. One stroke. Two. My balls pulled tight and I gasped and let go. No good. Still too tender. I got dressed with a pillowcase full of ice pressed against my crotch and drove to school.

Third period was gym class. I changed into my shorts in the locker room, moving carefully, keeping my legs apart.

I stepped into the gymnasium and felt the cool air hit my skin. Miss Silson stood at the center of the court blowing her whistle. She was young, maybe twenty five, with shoulder length auburn hair and a tight blue track suit that showed off a slim athletic figure. Her D-cups were really fine but her ass was legendary. She had the kind of body that made you forget what you were doing mid sentence. Today she was leading us through a volleyball unit.

I took my position on the court and tried to focus on the game. I was bored and distracted and my balls were aching when I felt someone move up beside me.

"Hey Jake."

Maya slid in next to me. She was in her gym uniform, a blue and white jersey that struggles to contain her G-cups, and tight shorts that showed off her muscular soccer legs. Her ponytail was pulled tight and high, swinging behind her head like a pendulum. I tensed immediately.

"Hey Maya," I said, trying to sound casual.

She bounced the volleyball between her hands, her chest jiggling with each toss. "How are your balls feeling? I heard you had a rough Friday after I left."

I felt heat rise to my face. "Yeah, I got two more kicks."

Miss Silson turned to write something on her clipboard. Maya's hand suddenly shot out and her palm connected with my balls with a quick sharp slap. It was just a solid tap, but my nuts were still so bruised and so backed up that the impact made my knees buckle. I doubled over with a short gasp, my hand flying to my groin.

"Aw, did that hurt?" Maya asked, her voice dripping with fake sympathy. She patted my back while I wheezed. "Sorry sorry. Just a little tap. Listen, I need you to play along."

I looked up at her through watering eyes. "Play along with what?"

Maya raised her hand and called out across the gymnasium. "Miss Silson! Miss Silson, I think he pulled something!"

Miss Silson turned, clipboard in hand. She saw me hunched over holding my groin and her eyes widened. "What happened?"

"He was stretching and he pulled a groin muscle," Maya said, her voice full of concern. She wrapped her arm around my waist to support me. "He can barely walk. Can I take him to the infirmary? I'm his study hall partner next period so I can make sure he gets there OK."

Miss Silson looked us over. Her eyes lingered on my hunched posture and my hand on my thigh. "Yes, fine. Take him slowly."

"Of course, Miss Silson." Maya helped me walk toward the exit, her arm around my waist, my body leaning against hers. Her massive breasts pressed against my side, soft and warm even through her jersey. I could feel their weight against my ribs. My cock twitched in my shorts from the contact.

The hallway was empty. Maya slowed our pace and adjusted her grip on my waist, her hand sliding lower until it rested on my hip. "You're welcome," she whispered.

"Welcome for what?"

"For getting you out of gym class. You looked miserable." She glanced down at my crotch. "And I can see your situation hasn't improved. You're still walking like a penguin."

"Thanks to you and your friends."

Maya laughed softly. "Guilty as charged. But come on, I didn't kick you THAT hard. I held back." She squeezed my hip. "Let's get to the infirmary."

The infirmary was a small room near the main office with a single bed, a desk, and a cabinet full of bandages and ice packs. The school nurse was out. Maya locked the door behind us and turned to face me.

"OK, pants down," she said, crossing her arms under her chest. The motion pushed her G-cups up and together, creating a deep line of cleavage that spilled over the neckline of her jersey.

"What?"

"I want to see what my kick did. Show me your balls and I'll be nice." She pulled the desk chair out and sat down, crossing her legs. She leaned back and waited. "I don't have all day, birthday boy."

I unbuttoned my shorts and pushed them down to my knees. My boxers followed. My balls hung between my thighs, still swollen, still bruised. The purple had faded to a mottled green and yellow over most of the surface.

Maya leaned forward in her chair and stared. "Holy shit. Look at those." She reached out and tilted my sack to the left with one finger, examining the underside. "They look pretty rough. We really got you good."

"Are you done?"

"Not even close." She pulled her chair closer and inspected both sides, turning my balls this way and that, her nail tracing the bruise patterns like reading a map. "So what happened after I left? Tell me everything."

I sighed. "Jenna found me first. She made me a deal. I could play with her tits if she could squeeze my nuts for the same amount of time. I agreed. She squeezed for five minutes. Then she kicked me."

"Five minutes." Maya whistled low. "And you just let her?"

"She has really nice boobs."

Maya rolled her eyes. "Boys. OK, then what?"

"Kim found me after. She made me get on my knees and kicked me from behind. I puked."

"Yeah she kicks hard. But she went easy on you. She usually makes guys pass out." Maya was still holding my sack, her thumb brushing the surface absently. "And then?"

"Then the round ended and the girls hid. I found Chloe near the starting point."

Maya's expression changed. Her playful smile faltered and something sharp flickered in her blue eyes. "Chloe? You found Chloe?"

"Yeah. She was hiding in the ferns near the trailhead."

"And?" Maya's voice tightened.

"She made me another deal. I could play with her boobs if she could play with my balls. She didn't squeeze. She just touched them and stuff. But she also stroked my dick and edged me for the whole hour without letting me cum."

Maya stared at me. Her grip on my sack tightened slightly and I winced.

"I hate her huge fake looking porn star tits." Maya's jaw clenched. She released my balls and sat back in her chair, her arms crossed tight under her chest. "That bitch is always showing off." She muttered it under her breath but I heard every word. Her eyes drifted to the wall and she sat there shaking her head.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. Forget it." Maya stood up and paced the small room. Her ponytail swayed behind her. Her G-cups bounced with each turn. "So she let you play with those enormous whore tits for an hour and you got nothing. No release. Just blue balls on top of your busted nuts."

"Pretty much. I tried to finish myself off but it hurt too much. I haven't cum since before Friday."

Maya stopped pacing. She turned to face me slowly, a dangerous smile creeping across her face. "Four days. That's not that bad." She looked down at my cock, which had started to stir just from the proximity of her body and the memory of Chloe's hands. "I can see it. You're half hard just standing there."

"I can't help it."

"God, you're pathetic." She stepped closer, her chest inches from my arm. "That bitch Chloe thinks she can just wave those watermelons around and drive guys insane. She does it every Friday. She loves it." Maya's hand came up and rested on my stomach, her fingers tracing down toward my waist. "Well, I bet I can do it even better."

My cock was fully hard now, standing straight up, thick and flushed. Maya looked down at it and raised an eyebrow. "Not bad," she said. "Not bad at all." She wrapped her fingers around my shaft and gave it one slow stroke from base to tip. I groaned and my hips bucked forward.

"Maya, what are you doing?"

"Relax." She pulled her jersey over her head in one fluid motion. Her sports bra followed. Her breasts spilled free and I forgot how to speak. G-cups, the second biggest in school, heavy and full and round, with smooth tan skin and small pink nipples. They sit high and firm despite their size. They were magnificent. Bigger than Jenna's, bigger than Kim's, bigger than any pair I had ever seen in person except Chloe's.

"Like what you see?" Maya asked, pushing her chest forward. Her tits swayed heavily, the nipples stiff in the cool air of the infirmary. She reached down and grabbed my cock again, stroking slowly. "I know you do. You're already dripping." She rubbed her thumb over the tip, spreading the precum that had gathered there. "Here's what's going to happen. I'm going to give you a titjob. A real one. Not that Chloe hand stuff. You're going to fuck my tits until your balls are so blue you can't think."

My brain short-circuited. "Why?" was all I could manage.

Maya dropped to her knees and pressed her tits together, trapping my cock between them. The warmth and softness was overwhelming. She looked up at me with those blue eyes and smiled. "Because Chloe left you with blue balls and she thinks that makes her special. I'm going to leave you with even bluer balls. And next time you try to jerk off, you're going to think about my tits, not hers."

She started moving. Her pressed-together breasts slid up and down my shaft, the soft flesh enveloping me completely. The sensation was incredible. Warm and slick and impossibly soft. Her cleavage was deep enough that my cock disappeared entirely between her mounds, only the head peeking out at the top of each stroke. She squeezed tighter, increasing the friction, and I groaned loudly.

"Shh," she whispered, glancing at the door. "Someone might hear."

I clamped my hand over my mouth. She kept moving, her massive tits sliding up and down, up and down, the friction building a slow heavy pressure in my groin. Precum leaked from the tip and smeared across her chest, making the channel slicker. She adjusted her grip and sped up. The soft slap of flesh against flesh filled the small room.

"God, you're so hard," Maya said, looking down at the head of my cock emerging from her cleavage on each upstroke. "I can feel your balls tightening." One hand released a breast and reached down to cup my sack. She weighed it gently. "These are so full. You really need to cum, don't you?"

"Yes," I gasped. "Please."

"Tell me my tits are better than Chloe's."

"What?"

"Say it. Say my tits are better." She squeezed her breasts tighter and pumped faster. The pressure in my groin surged. I was getting close. Really close. The edge was right there, building with each stroke of those incredible soft globes.

"Your tits are better than Chloe's," I panted. "So much better."

"Say you want to cum on my tits."

"I want to cum on your tits. Maya please. Please let me cum on your tits."

She smiled. She was beautiful. She pulled away.

My cock slid out of her cleavage and bobbed in the air, desperate and twitching. The pressure plummeted, leaving me right on the edge with nothing. I stared at her in disbelief.

"I told you I am giving you blueballs." she said sweetly. She cupped her bare breasts and bounced them, watching my eyes follow the motion.

She grabbed my cock with her hand and stroked slowly, keeping me right at the edge. Then she switched back to the titjob, wrapping those huge soft mounds around my shaft and pumping. The change in sensation almost pushed me over. Almost. She knew exactly when to stop.

"Maya please," I begged, my voice cracking. "Please I'm so close. My balls hurt so much."

"They're going to hurt more," she said, looking up at me with bright eyes. "That's the point." She squeezed her tits together and resumed the titjob, faster now, her chest heaving with the effort. My hips bucked involuntarily, fucking her cleavage, chasing the orgasm she kept pulling away.

She stopped again. And again. And again. Each time I was right at the peak. Each time she let go and watched my cock twitch and throb in the empty air. My balls pulled tighter with each cycle, the heavy ache growing deeper and more desperate. The cum was right there, built up over four days of frustration, ready to explode. And she kept locking it away.

"I can tell you're close," she purred, wiping a strand of precum from her chest and rubbing it between her fingers. "Your balls are getting so tight. I love watching them try to push the cum out and fail." She gave my sack a gentle squeeze and I yelped. "Do they hurt more now than Friday?"

"Yes," I whimpered.

"Good." She wrapped her tits around me again and pumped. The pressure built like a tide. I was shaking. My thighs were trembling. Every muscle in my body was clenched. I grabbed her shoulders for support. She looked up at me and smiled.

"Try to cum for me," she whispered. "Cum on my tits. Do it. Do it now."

I felt the orgasm approaching, the final swell, the last surge before release. It was right there. My cock swelled between her breasts, the head dark purple, leaking steadily. My balls contracted and the first pulse of cum traveled up my shaft.

Maya pulled away.

My cock lurched in the air, the cum reversing course, the orgasm collapsing in on itself. I felt the fluid back up into my balls with a sickening pressure. My groin cramped so hard I folded in half. The pain was incredible. As bad as any kick.

"FUCK!" I screamed into my hand, tears springing to my eyes. "NO NO NO PLEASE!"

Maya sat back on her heels and looked up at me with a satisfied expression. My cock twitched wildly in the air, desperate and leaking, my balls cramping so hard I thought they might explode. I was hunched over, hands on my knees, sucking in air through my teeth.

"You didn't let me finish," I gasped.

"Of course I didn't." Maya stood up and wiped her chest with a tissue from the nurse's desk. She picked up her sports bra and jersey and started getting dressed, her massive tits swaying as she pulled the fabric up. "If Chloe didn't let you finish I certainly won't. That would defeat the whole purpose." She tucked her G-cups back into her jersey and smoothed the fabric down. The outlines of her nipples were still visible through the tight material. "I told you I was going to give you bluer balls than she did. And I think I just did."

"Maya, please. I can't take this. My balls are already destroyed and now they're so full I feel like I'm going to burst."

"Sounds like a you problem." She pulled her ponytail tight and adjusted her shorts. Then she looked at me, really looked, and her expression shifted. Her cheeks were flushed. Her lips were parted. She was breathing a little heavier than normal. Her eyes swept down my body, lingering on my still rigid cock and my swollen bruised balls.

"Besides," she said, her voice dropping into that low purr I remembered from the woods, "I'm pretty worked up myself. Titjobs get me going. All that hardness sliding between my girls. It makes me tingle." She pressed her thighs together and I saw her hips shift. "So now you have to get me off."

"What?"

"You heard me." Maya walked to the infirmary bed and pulled the thin mattress pad off, dropping it on the floor. She unbuttoned her shorts and stepped out of them, then slid her panties down her athletic legs. Her pussy was smooth and pink and glistening. She kicked her clothes aside and stood over me, hands on her wide hips. "Lay down."

I lowered myself to the floor slowly, my back against the cool tile, my cock still jutting straight up. The moment my bare skin touched the tile I hissed. Maya straddled me, her muscular thighs on either side of my head. I had a direct view up her body, past her flat stomach, past the bottom curve of her tits, to her flushed face looking down at me.

"Here's how this works," she said. "I'm going to sit on your face and you're going to eat me out. If you do a good job I might play with your cock while you do it. If you do a bad job I'm going to squeeze your balls until you pass out."

She shuffled forward and lowered herself onto my face. Her pussy pressed against my mouth, warm and wet. She tasted tangy and sweet. Her thighs clamped against my ears and the world went muffled. I stuck my tongue out and started licking, running it along her slit in long slow strokes.

"Oh fuck yes," Maya breathed above me. "Right there. Keep doing that."

I found her clit with the tip of my tongue and circled it. She shuddered and her weight pressed down harder. I pushed my tongue inside her and fucked her with it in shallow quick thrusts. She ground her hips against my face, her slick folds sliding across my mouth and chin.

"Good boy," she moaned. Her hands appeared in my peripheral vision, sliding down my stomach toward my groin. Her fingers wrapped around my cock and she started stroking. Slowly. Base to tip. The pleasure hit me immediately, mixing with the deep ache in my balls. I groaned into her pussy and the vibration made her gasp.

"Do that again," she said. "Moan into me. It feels so good."

I licked harder, faster, and she stroked me in return. Her hand pumped my shaft with a steady rhythm while I worked my tongue against her clit. I could feel her getting wetter, her thighs trembling, her breathing quickening. My own excitement built with each stroke of her hand. The pressure in my balls climbed. I was getting close again. The edge approached like a freight train.

Maya felt it too. She knew the signs. My cock swelled in her hand, my hips started to buck, my breathing quickened against her pussy. She stopped stroking and squeezed the base of my cock hard. The orgasm died. I whined into her flesh and she laughed.

"Not yet," she said. "Make me cum first and then we'll see."

I attacked her clit with renewed desperation, flicking it rapidly with my tongue, sucking it between my lips. She moaned and her hand resumed its stroking, slower now, teasing. She brought me to the edge again and stopped. I groaned against her pussy and she shuddered.

"God I love that sound," she breathed. "Keep moaning. Keep making that noise."

She stroked and stopped. Stroked and stopped. Each time I got close she would pull me back from the brink. Each time my denied orgasm made me groan into her pussy and she got a little more excited. Her thighs were clamped tight against my head now, her whole body rigid.

"I'm close," she whispered. "Don't stop. Don't stop."

I licked her clit with rapid fluttering strokes. Her hips bucked against my face. She was so close. I could feel it in the tension of her thighs, the way her whole body coiled. Then she reached down with her free hand and grabbed my balls.

"SCREAM FOR ME!" she commanded.

She squeezed. Her fingers dug into the swollen bruised flesh of my left nut and clamped down with terrifying strength.

"AAAAAAIIIIIIIEEEEE!" I shrieked into her pussy. The vibration traveled through her flesh like a shockwave. Maya screamed. Her thighs crushed my head. Her whole body seized. Her hand clamped on my balls and I shrieked again and again into her sopping pussy, each scream sending another wave of vibration through her clit.

"YES YES YES!" Maya howled. Her hips ground against my face in frantic circles. She squeezed my nuts even harder and I sobbed, my tears mixing with her wetness. The pain was blinding. The ache in my balls exploded into a blinding white heat that radiated through my entire body. I shrieked so loud my throat went raw.

Maya came. Her entire body convulsed. Liquid gushed from her pussy, flooding my mouth and chin. She rode my face through the orgasm, her hips jerking in short fast thrusts, gasping and trembling. She squeezed my balls one more time and I wailed into her one final time, triggering the last aftershock of her climax.

She released my balls and slumped forward, catching herself on her hands above my hips. She stayed there for a long moment, breathing hard, her ponytail hanging limp against my stomach. I lay beneath her, mouth open, face soaked, balls throbbing with renewed agony.

"Oh my God," Maya finally said, her voice dreamy and thick. She lifted herself up and swung her leg over my head, standing on shaky legs. She looked down at me. My face was drenched in her juices. My eyes were red and watering. My cock was still hard, still desperate, still dripping.

She picked up a towel from the cabinet and cleaned herself up, then pulled on her shorts and panties. She looked at my cock, standing straight up with a pool of precum on my belly.

"Maya, please. I need to cum. I'm begging you."

"No." She squatted beside me and gave my cock one last slow stroke from base to tip. I whimpered. "I think your balls are bluer than Chloe could ever make them. Mission accomplished." She stood and walked to the door, unlocking it. She turned back to me one last time. "You should probably get dressed. Period ends in ten minutes." She blew me a kiss and slipped out into the hallway.

I lay on the floor for another five minutes before I could move. Eventually I pulled myself up onto the infirmary bed and checked my balls. Both nuts had swelled again. The old bruises had flared back to life, the green and yellow replaced with fresh patches of angry pink and dark purple. The skin was tight and hot. I cupped them and groaned. They felt packed solid.

I tried to jerk off one more time. My cock was still hard, still desperate. I wrapped my hand around it and stroked. The pleasure surged immediately. I was so close it would only take a few strokes. I pumped twice, three times, and the pressure built.

My balls pulled up tight. The swelling pressed against my body. A sharp stab of pain shot through my groin. I let go of my cock and grabbed my balls, cradling them, rocking on the bed.

The door opened.

"Oh my."

I looked up. Miss Silson stood in the doorway, clipboard in hand, her auburn hair falling loose around her shoulders. Her tight blue track suit hugged every curve. Her big breasts pushed against the zipper of her jacket and her legendary ass filled her pants in a way that made my dick twitch. She had green eyes and full lips and right now those lips were curling into a slow knowing smile.

"I came to check on you," she said, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. "I was going to ask if you needed your parents called." She looked down at me. "But I can see you have a different problem."

I tried to cover myself. My hands flew to my crotch but my cock was so hard it jutted out between my fingers. Miss Silson laughed, a soft musical sound, and walked over to the desk. She set her clipboard down and pulled the chair out, sitting down and crossing her legs. The motion made her chest bounce slightly beneath her track suit.

"Don't bother hiding it, Jake. I can see exactly what's going on here." She uncrossed her legs and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. Her jacket gaped open and I caught a glimpse of a sports bra and pale cleavage. "You have blue balls. Severe blue balls from the look of it."

My face burned. "I'm sorry, Miss Silson. I just got kicked and edged and I just need to cum so badly and ..."

"Jake. Breathe." She held up her hand. "Calm down. It's OK." She studied me with those green eyes, her expression a mix of amusement and something else. Something warmer. "I went to this school, you know. I graduated eight years ago."

I blinked. "You did?"

"I did. And I participated in the Friday tradition." She smiled and the memory made her face light up. "Some of the best memories I have are from those woods. Kicking boys I had crushes on. Flashing guys I thought were cute. It was a different time." She sighed. "I kind of miss it, to be honest. Not that teaching isn't rewarding, but." She gestured at me on the floor. "This is a lot more fun."

"Miss Silson, please. Can you help me? I'm so desperate I can't think straight. My balls are going to explode."

"I can't help you cum, Jake. It's against the girl's code."

"The girl's code?"

"If a girl blueballs a guy, no other girl can let him finish. It would be rude. Disrespectful to the work she put in." She put her hands on her hips and looked down at me with a mischievous grin. "A girl, I'm guessing Maya, spent all that time edging you and building up that pressure. It would be very inconsiderate of me to undo her hard work."

I felt tears prick my eyes. "That's not fair."

"Fair has nothing to do with it. In fact." She pulled the chair closer and sat down again, crossing her legs. "The tradition actually is that when you find a guy who's already been blueballed, and there's a good opportunity, you should edge him more. Add to his suffering. It's considered good form."

"No. No no no."

"I don't have a class next period, Jake. I have a full hour free. And looking at you right now, all desperate and pathetic on the floor, I have to admit I really want to play." She unzipped her track jacket and shrugged it off, revealing a tight white sports bra that struggled to contain her D-cups. Her breasts sat high and firm, the soft flesh pressing against the compression fabric. Her stomach was flat and toned, a thin strip of skin visible between the bra and her pants. "Do you know what I was known for when I was a student here?"

I shook my head mutely.

"I was the best edger in school." She pulled the chair right up next to me and rested her elbow on her knee, her chin on her hand. Her breasts hung heavy in her bra, right at my eye level. "I had a special technique. I would edge a guy until he couldn't take it anymore. Until his balls were so full they felt like cantaloupes. Until his cock was so hard it turned purple. Until he was crying and begging and completely broken." She paused and smiled. "And then I would tell him that I would only stop if he asked me to kick his balls instead."

My mouth went dry. "What?"

"That's the game. I edge until you beg me to kick you. When you choose the kick over the edging, I know I've won. I know I've pushed you past your absolute limit." She reached down and wrapped her fingers around my cock. Her hand was cool and soft. She gave it one slow stroke.

"Miss Silson, please don't do this."

She stroked faster, her hand gliding along my slick shaft. The pleasure hit me like a truck. Four days of backed up arousal surged through my body. I was already on the edge from Maya's torture and now this gorgeous woman was pumping my cock with practiced efficiency. "When you can't take it anymore, when the edging is worse than anything I could do to your balls, just ask me to kick you. That's all you have to do. Ask me to kick your balls and I'll stop."

She stroked me right to the edge in thirty seconds. My hips bucked. My cock swelled in her fist. The pressure climbed to its peak. I was right there. Right there.

She let go.

"FUCK!" I shouted, my hips thrusting into empty air. My cock bobbed wildly, cum leaking from the tip in a steady stream. The orgasm collapsed and the fluid backed up into my balls with a sickening crunch. I grabbed my nuts and moaned.

"Sensitive, aren't we?" Miss Silson said brightly. She watched me writhe for a moment, her eyes tracking every twitch of my cock. Then she unclasped her sports bra and pulled it off.

Her tits were incredible. D-cups that looked bigger without the compression, full and round and slightly heavy with perfect pink nipples. They swayed gently as she moved, soft and natural. She cupped them from below and bounced them, watching my eyes follow the jiggle.

"These are pretty nice, right?" she said. "Want to feel them?"

She leaned forward and pressed her chest against my cock. The soft warmth of her breasts enveloped my shaft and I groaned loudly. She pressed them together with her hands and started sliding them up and down, the same titjob technique Maya had used but somehow better despite her smaller bust. Her technique was perfect. She knew exactly how much pressure to apply, exactly how fast to move, exactly when to pause.

She pulled away. My cock emerged from her cleavage twitching, the head swollen and leaking, the orgasm ripped away at the last millisecond. I sobbed.

"There it is," she said. "That sound. That's what I love." She grabbed my cock with her hand and stroked slowly, maintaining my arousal at a low simmer. "Most girls just stop. I like to keep you right at a seven. Hard and dripping but not close enough to cum. Then every few minutes I spike it to a ten and pull you back." She demonstrated. Her hand flew up and down my shaft, fast and tight, and the pressure surged. I gasped. She stopped. The pressure dropped. I whimpered.

She stood up and turned around. Her ass was legendary for a reason. Round and full and firm, the track pants hugging every curve. She bent over, pressing her ass against my cock. The soft cheeks trapped my shaft and she started to move, sliding her hips back and forth. "This is what I was really known for. The ass job."

The sensation was maddening. Different from the titjob, firmer, more pressure. Her round cheeks squeezed my cock and the friction was relentless. She reached back and spread her cheeks slightly, trapping my cock deeper between them. My dick twitched.

She stopped and stood up, turning to face me. She grabbed my balls and cupped them, weighing them in her palm. "God, these are heavy. They feel like they're full of lead. I can feel the pressure inside." She massaged them gently and the ache flared, a deep sick throb that made me want to curl into a ball. "The only way to make it stop is if you ask me to kick you ."

"Please don't kick me."

"I'm not going to kick you yet. Not unless you ask me to." She sat back in the chair and grabbed my cock again. "We're just getting started."

She resumed her cycle. Hand job to the edge. Stop. Titjob to the edge. Stop. Ass job to the edge. Stop. Each technique was more devastating than the last. She varied the order, kept me guessing, never let me settle into a rhythm. My cock was constantly hard and leaking, my balls were constantly tight and throbbing, and the pressure just kept building with no release.

Twenty minutes in I was a wreck. My whole body was shaking. I was crying openly. Tears and drool ran down my face and mixed with the dried remains of Maya's pussy on my chin. My cock had turned a deep angry purple, the head so swollen it looked painful. Precum flowed from the tip in a continuous stream, soaking my stomach and thighs. My balls had swelled to the size of lemons.

"Please," I choked, my voice hoarse from groaning. "Please Miss Silson. I can't take it. I really can't."

"You can," she said calmly. She gave my cock three quick strokes that brought me right to the edge. I tensed. She stopped. I screamed. "You can take more. I know you can. I've seen guys take way more than this."

"My nuts hurt so much."

She cupped her tits and pressed them against my cock again, sliding them up and down. "Doesn't this feel good?"

"Too good. It's too good. It hurts. Everything hurts. My balls are going to explode."

She pulled away and stroked me with her hand again, slow and steady. "When you want me to stop, you know what to ask for."

Thirty minutes. My vision was blurring. My thighs were cramping. My cock was so sensitive that even the air moving across it felt like stimulation. Sarah had perfected her cycle, alternating between her hands, her tits, and her ass with the precision of a machine. Each edge was worse than the last. The first few had been frustrating. The next few had been agonizing. Now each denied orgasm felt like a physical punch to the nuts.

She pressed her ass against my cock one more time. Her round firm cheeks glided along my shaft. I was so close. Right at the very peak. I could feel the cum in my balls, ready to fire, desperate to escape. My whole body locked up. This was it. This was the biggest edge yet.

She stopped.

My cock lurched in the air, twitching violently, a thick bead of precum oozing from the tip and running down the shaft.

"Please kick me" I whispered.

She stopped. She turned around and looked down at me. "What was that?"

"Please kick me in the balls. I can't take it. Please. Just kick me. Please." The words tumbled out in a broken rush. I was crying. Snot was running from my nose. My cock was twitching pathetically. "Please. I choose the kick. Just please stop. I can't take it. Please kick me."

She smiled. It was a warm genuine smile. She crouched down beside me and brushed the hair from my forehead. "Good boy. You lasted a long time." She stood up and walked to the corner of the room where her gym sneakers sat. She slipped them on and laced them tight. The rubber soles squeaked on the tile.

"Thank you for asking so nicely," she said, turning to face me. "Now stand up and spread your legs for me."

I pulled myself up slowly. My legs were shaking so badly I could barely support myself. I stood in the center of the infirmary, my shorts still around my ankles, my cock jutting straight up, my balls hanging heavy and swollen between my thighs. I shuffled my feet apart.

She walked over to me. Her bare tits were right in front of my face, the nipples pink and stiff. She reached down and cupped my balls one last time, feeling their weight.

"These are so full," she said softly. "This is going to hurt so much. But at least your balls won't get any bluer for now." She looked up at my face. "It's going to be really bad though, I kick really hard."

"Please just do it."

She stepped back, balancing on her left foot. Her right leg cocked back. She looked me in the eyes and smiled.

The kick was perfect. Her sneaker connected with the dead center of my sack with a CRACK that bounced off the infirmary walls. Both testicles compressed flat against my pelvis. The force was staggering. My brain whited out. My mouth opened but no sound came. My body just locked up, every muscle rigid, my eyes rolling back.

Then my vision went black.

I woke up on the infirmary bed. The ceiling was white. My body was wrapped in a thin blanket. My balls were throbbing with a deep ache and I felt like puking.

"Hey there, sleepyhead."

I turned my head. Miss Silson sat in the desk chair, her track jacket back on, her clipboard in her lap. She had cleaned up the floor. The room smelled like disinfectant. She checked her watch.

"You were out for about eight minutes," she said. "Nice. That was a really good kick if I do say so myself." She stood up and patted my shoulder. "How do you feel?"

I tried to speak. My voice was a croak. "My balls hurts so much."

She nodded sympathetically. "That's normal. But they'll survive."

I pulled the blanket down and looked at my groin. My cock was soft for the first time in hours. My balls were the size of oranges, the skin stretched tight and shiny, deep purple and mottled with black. The bruising was spectacular, fresh marks layered over the faded remnants of Friday's damage. The whole area was hot and throbbing.

She wrote something on her clipboard and tore off a slip of paper. "I'm sending you home for the day. Get rest."

She tucked the paper into my hand, gathered her things, and walked out. The door clicked shut behind her.

I lay there for a long time. Minutes bled into each other. The distant sounds of the woods slowly changed. The girls' hunting calls faded. The whistle blew somewhere far away, signaling the end of the first round. Then another whistle. The second round had started. The girls were hiding now. It was my turn to hunt.

I tried to push myself up. My arms shook. My abs cramped. My legs refused to cooperate. Every time I shifted my weight my balls sent a fresh spike of nausea through my gut. I got to my hands and knees and stayed there, swaying, breathing through my mouth. Then I fell again. I tried a second time. Same result. I crawled forward a few feet on my belly like a soldier under barbed wire, dragging my legs behind me. The leaves were wet against my skin. My jeans were soaked with sweat and dirt and the faint remains of my own puke.

I don't know how long I lay there. Long enough that the woods went quiet. Long enough that the other guys had all scattered to hunt. I could hear distant shouts of triumph from guys finding girls, followed by the occasional shriek or giggle. Lucky bastards. They were seeing tits right now. I was lying in the mud with mangled balls.

Eventually I made it to a tree trunk and used it to pull myself upright. The bark scraped my palms raw. My legs straightened one at a time, shaking violently. I stood there for a full minute, legs apart, hands on my knees, breathing like I had just run a marathon. The pressure in my balls was constant now, a thick heavy ache that pulsed with every heartbeat. I took one step. Then another. My walk was a waddle, legs wide, feet shuffling through the leaves. I moved at the pace of a wounded animal.

It took me twenty minutes to reach the starting point. The treeline was empty. Everyone was deep in the woods by now. I leaned against a post and caught my breath. I needed to find a girl. I needed to see some tits. After everything I had been through, I deserved a reward. But the thought of walking deep into the woods made my stomach heave. I could barely shuffle. How was I supposed to find anyone?

I pushed off the post and stumbled forward into the trees. I moved slowly, scanning the undergrowth, checking behind logs and peeking into bushes. Every step jiggled my swollen nuts and made me wince. I was about to give up and just sit down when I noticed something odd. A flash of pink behind a thick cluster of ferns near the trailhead. Very close to where we had all started.

I crept closer, trying to be quiet, but my shuffling footsteps gave me away immediately. The ferns rustled and a small figure popped up from behind them.

My jaw dropped.

She was tiny. Barely five feet tall, with a heart shaped face and big brown eyes framed by long lashes. Her hair was dark brown, falling past her shoulders in loose waves. She wore a pink crop top and tiny denim shorts. But what stopped my heart was her chest. Even standing perfectly still her boobs were massive. H-cups, the biggest in school by a wide margin, twin mountains of flesh that stretched her crop top into something obscene. The fabric rode up over the curve of the underslope, exposing a sliver of pale skin beneath. Her waist was impossibly small, making her chest look even more disproportionate. She was like a cartoon pinup brought to life.

Chloe. I had stared at her a thousand times in the cafeteria, in the library, walking down the hall. I had spent embarrassing amounts of time imagining what she looked like under those tight sweaters she always wore. And now she was standing five feet away from me, hiding in a cluster of ferns near the starting point.

"I found you," I said, my voice cracking.

Chloe looked up at me and then broke into a wide smile. "Oh wow. You look terrible." Her voice was high and sweet, almost childlike, which made the words even funnier. She stepped out from behind the ferns and crossed her arms under her chest, a defensive move that only made her boobs push up higher. "Are you OK? You're walking like you pooped your pants."

"My nuts got destroyed in the first round," I said, leaning against a tree for support.

"Aw. First time?" She tilted her head, her big eyes full of sympathy that seemed genuine but also slightly amused. "Who got you?"

"Maya, Jenna and Kim."

Chloe's eyebrows rose higher with each name. Her lips pressed together like she was trying not to laugh. "All three? On your first day? That's rough. No wonder you can barely walk."

I nodded miserably.

Chloe looked around, then back at me. "Well, you found me. So I owe you a flash. But first, can I see them? Your nuts, I mean. I love seeing the results of our handiwork."

I hesitated. But she had asked so nicely. And she was Chloe. I undid my jeans with trembling fingers and pushed my boxers down. My balls hung there, swollen and bruised and pathetic.

Chloe leaned in close, her massive chest brushing against my thigh. I felt the soft pressure of her boobs through her crop top and almost lost my mind. She inspected my nuts with wide curious eyes, her nose scrunching up the way a kid examines a bug.

"Wow. Those are really puffy." She extended one tiny finger and poked my left nut gently. I flinched and she pulled back. "Sorry. But look at the size of them. They're like little tomatoes." She leaned closer again, squinting. "Are those finger marks?"

"Jenna," I explained. "She squeezed them for five minutes. I let her because she let me play with her tits."

Chloe looked up at my face. Then she burst out laughing, her whole body bouncing. Her H-cups jiggled wildly, the crop top straining against the movement. The sound was infectious and musical. She held her stomach and laughed until tears formed in the corners of her eyes.

"You let Jenna crush your balls so you could touch her boobs?" She wiped her eyes. "That is so funny. You boys are all the same. Put a pair of tits in front of you and your brain just stops working." She shook her head, still giggling. She straightened up and looked at my swollen balls again, her expression shifting to something more thoughtful.

"OK so here's the thing," Chloe said, placing her hands on her narrow hips. "I was going to just flash you and let you go. But your balls are really something. I love how bruised and swollen they are. I don't know why, I just think it's hot." She bit her lower lip. "So I want to propose a trade."

I stared at her. "A trade?"

"Similar to what Jenna did. But better. You get to play with my boobs. And I mean really play with them. Squeeze them, bounce them, whatever you want." She reached down and tugged the hem of her crop top, pulling it tighter over her chest until the outline of her nipples showed clearly through the fabric. "In exchange, I get to play with your swollen balls. I won't squeeze them. I promise. I just want to touch them and feel them and play with them."

"Just touch them?"

"Just touch and play. No squeezing. I know they're already destroyed. But touching still might hurt a little because they're so bruised. That's the deal though." She looked up at me with those big brown eyes. "So what do you say?"

My brain said no. My balls screamed no. But my eyes drifted down to her chest, to those impossibly huge mounds straining against a thin piece of pink cotton. This was Chloe. The girl I had fantasized about for two years. The biggest rack in the entire school. And she was offering to let me touch them.

"OK," I whispered.

"Yay!" Chloe clapped her hands together, her boobs bouncing with the motion. She grabbed the hem of her crop top and pulled it up and over her head in one smooth motion. Her breasts dropped free and I stopped breathing.

They were even bigger than I had imagined. Each one was larger than her head, heavy and round, somehow defying gravity even without support. The skin was pale and smooth, faint blue veins visible beneath the surface. Her nipples were pink and wide, slightly puffy, already stiff from the cool air. The sheer weight of them was staggering. They hung on her tiny frame like overripe fruit, swaying gently with every breath she took. I could see why she wore tight sweaters. There was no hiding those things.

"Go ahead," she said, standing with her arms at her sides, her chest pushed forward. "They're all yours."

I reached out and cupped them. My hands looked comically small against the massive mounds. Each breast overflowed my palms, soft warm flesh spilling between my fingers. I hefted them, feeling their weight. Heavy and full and impossibly soft. My thumbs found her nipples and brushed across them. Chloe let out a tiny gasp.

"Careful," she whispered. "They're sensitive."

I squeezed gently, feeling the flesh yield under my fingers. I lifted one breast and let it drop. It bounced heavily, a deep slow wobble that traveled through the whole mound before settling. I did it again, mesmerized. I pushed them together, forming a deep canyon of cleavage. I buried my face between them, feeling the soft pressure on both sides of my head. Chloe giggled and put her hands on the back of my skull, pressing me deeper.

"Mmm. You really like them, don't you?" she said softly.

I nodded into her cleavage. I came up for air and went back to kneading them, rolling the nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. Chloe's breathing quickened. Her tiny body shifted, her hips swaying slightly. I couldn't believe this was happening. Despite the throbbing ache in my balls, my cock was filling out, pushing against my underwear. It strained harder as I continued to massage her enormous tits, my fingers sinking into the soft flesh over and over.

"Someone's enjoying himself," Chloe said, looking down at the tent in my boxers. She reached down with one tiny hand and pulled the waistband forward, letting my erection spring free. It stood straight up, stiff and leaking. "Oh wow. You really do like them." She wrapped her small fingers around my shaft and gave a gentle stroke. I groaned.

"OK, my turn," she said, releasing me. She knelt down in the leaves in front of me, her massive breasts resting on her thighs, and cupped my swollen balls in both hands. Her fingers were tiny and warm. She lifted them gently, weighing them, her eyes wide with fascination.

"God, they're so heavy," she breathed. "And hot. I can feel the heat through the skin." She rolled my left nut between her thumb and two fingers, turning it slowly, examining every bruise. It hurt. A deep dull ache that flared with every movement. I bit my lip. She shifted to the right one, tracing the dark red oval where Kim's foot had connected. "That's going to be black by tomorrow," she said matter-of-factly.

As promised, she didn't squeeze. But even gentle manipulation of crushed and bruised testicles was agony. She rolled them, tugged them lightly, pressed the swollen surface with her fingertips. Each touch sent a wave of nausea through my gut. I sucked in breath through my teeth and tried to stay still.

"Does that hurt?" she asked, looking up at me.

"A little," I admitted.

"I'm barely touching them." She pouted. She took both nuts in one palm and jiggled them, watching the swollen mass shift and wobble. "They're so squishy now, like little water balloons." She bounced them gently and I hissed. "Sorry. They're just so fun to play with."

Then she wrapped her other hand around my cock again and started stroking. Slowly. Base to tip. Her small fingers barely reached around my shaft. She pumped me while her other hand continued to fondle my ruined balls, tracing the bruises, rolling the swollen orbs, tickling the tight skin of my sack.

The pleasure from her hand mixed with the ache from my balls, a confusing cocktail of sensation that made my head spin. My cock throbbed and leaked, precum running down her fingers. She used it as lube, her hand sliding faster. I felt pressure building in my groin, a deep tightening that rose with every stroke.

"Chloe," I gasped, "I'm getting close."

She stopped stroking. Her hand squeezed the base of my cock, cutting off the building orgasm. I groaned in frustration. She smiled up at me with those big innocent eyes.

"We didn't agree on that," she said sweetly. "The deal was boobs for balls. Nothing about making you cum."

"Please," I begged. "Please Chloe. I'm so close. Just a few more strokes."

"Nope." She giggled and released my cock, letting it twitch in the air. She went back to playing with my balls, rolling them gently while my erection bobbed untouched. The pressure in my groin stayed, unsatisfied, pulsing. After a minute or so she grabbed my cock again and resumed stroking.

The cycle repeated. She would pump me until I was right on the edge, precum flowing like a faucet, my whole body tensing for release. Then she would stop. Squeeze the base. Wait. And go back to fondling my balls while I whimpered.

"Please," I moaned after the fifth time, my voice high and thin. "Please let me cum. Please. I can't take it."

"Your balls are so fun when you're frustrated," Chloe said, squeezing my sack gently. I yelped. "They're twitching. Like little hearts." She poked my left nut with one finger. "You know what blue balls means? It means your balls fill up with fluid and get even more swollen and hurt even more." She looked up at me. "Yours are already really swollen. I wonder how much bigger they can get."

"Chloe, please."

"Shh. Just enjoy it." She stroked me again, faster this time. My hips bucked forward. The pressure surged. I was right there, right at the peak, my whole body rigid, every muscle clenched.

She let go.

"FUCK!" I shouted, my voice cracking. "PLEASE! OH GOD PLEASE!"

Chloe laughed her musical laugh and cupped my balls, jiggling them. "I love how full they feel. Like two little balloons about to pop." She squeezed gently and I whimpered. "I can't let you cum. That wasn't the deal."

She stroked me again. Edged me again. Stopped again. Each time the pressure grew worse. My balls throbbed with a heavy sick ache that combined with the desperate need to cum. Every time she edged me the pain in my groin doubled. My nuts were so full of fluid from the swelling and the built up arousal that they felt like they might burst.

"Please," I sobbed, tears running down my face. "Please Chloe. I'll do anything. Please let me finish."

"Anything?" She tilted her head. "No. I don't think so." She stroked me again, her tiny hand flying up and down my shaft. I trembled. I was leaking constantly, a steady stream of precum that she smeared along my length. The pleasure was unbearable. The lack of release was torture. And my balls were screaming.

She kept going. Edging and stopping. Edging and stopping. My balls swelled further, each ruined climax adding to the pressure. The bruises seemed to darken as the blood flow increased. The ache transformed from dull to sharp, each throb a knife in my gut.

A whistle blew in the distance. The end of the round. One hour.

"Time's up!" Chloe announced cheerfully. She released my cock and balls and stood up, her massive breasts swaying as she moved. She picked up her crop top and pulled it back on, her H-cups filling the fabric instantly. She tugged the hem down and smoothed it over her chest.

"No no no no," I babbled, reaching for my cock. "Please. Just let me finish."

"Sorry birthday boy." She dusted off her knees and looked down at me. My cock was twitching in the air, purple and desperate, my balls bloated and bruised beyond recognition. "A deal is a deal. You got to play with my boobs. I got to play with your balls. Nothing about cumming."

"Please," I whispered.

She kissed two fingers and pressed them to my forehead. "Happy birthday. Feel those for me." She pointed at my nuts. Then she turned and skipped away through the trees, her enormous chest bouncing with each step, her brown hair swaying behind her.

I grabbed my cock and started stroking furiously. I needed to finish. The pressure was unbearable. My balls were so swollen they felt like they might split open. I pumped my fist, chasing the orgasm that Chloe had keeping from me for an hour.

The first stroke sent agony through my groin. My balls pulled up tight and the swelling pressed against my body. I gasped and kept going. The second stroke was worse. The motion jiggled my battered nuts and they sent a sharp spike of pain up through my stomach. I tried to adjust, cupping my balls with one hand while stroking with the other. Touching them even gently made me nauseous.

"Come on," I muttered through gritted teeth. "Come on come on come on."

I stroked harder, faster, trying to push through the pain. But every movement transmitted shockwaves through my ruined testicles. The ache was too deep, too sharp, too overwhelming. My erection began to soften, the pain overruling my arousal. I tried to keep going but my hand cramped and my balls throbbed and I just couldn't.

I let go of my cock and fell back into the leaves, staring at the sky. My dick lay half hard against my thigh, leaking pathetically. My balls were enormous, swollen to the size of apples, the skin stretched so tight it shone. The bruises had become one solid mass of dark purple, mottled with black and sickly green. Every vein was visible, blue lines snaking across the taut surface. The finger marks from Jenna, the impact point from Kim, everything had blended into a single canvas of agony. I couldn't touch them. I couldn't even close my thighs. I just lay there in the leaves, legs spread wide, cock soft and useless, balls ruined and throbbing.

Blue balls on top of busted balls. I had survived my first Friday. Barely.

I turned eighteen today. My birthday landed on a Friday, which meant I could finally join the school tradition. All day I could barely focus on my classes. My friends who had been eighteen for weeks nudged me in the hall, promising I would love it and hate it in equal measure. I had seen the limping boys on Monday mornings. I had heard the stories. Now it was my turn.

The tradition was simple. Every Friday after school, the seniors who were eighteen or older gathered at the edge of the woods behind the football field. The woods were big, thick with old oaks, dense bushes, and fallen logs, plenty of places to hide. We played two rounds of hide and seek. One round the guys hid and the girls hunted. The other round the girls hid and the guys hunted. The stakes made my stomach tighten every time I thought about them. If a girl found a guy, she got to give him one hard kick square in the nuts. If a guy found a girl, she had to show him her tits.

Nobody really knew where the tradition started. Some said it was a dare between a couple of horny seniors back in the nineties that spiraled out of control. Others whispered it was cooked up by a pack of girls who got tired of guys staring at their chests and wanted some payback. I didn't care that much about the origin. I just knew that for every guy who came back clutching his broken marbles, there was another who talked for weeks about the flash he got to enjoy. And honestly, most girls at our school were ridiculously hot. I had spent years stealing glances at their bouncing tops in gym, their tight jeans, their low cut blouses in the hallway. The chance to see a real pair of tits, right in front of me, was worth almost any shot to my balls. Almost.

How bad could a kick really be, I told myself. I had been racked before. A soccer ball, a stray knee during wrestling. I could handle pain. My nuts were probably tougher than I gave them credit for. Probably.

We met at the treeline right after the final bell. I counted maybe fifteen girls and twelve guys. The girls were all chattering and stretching, laughing while they tied their hair back or adjusted their sports bras. A few of them glanced at me and grinned. They knew it was my first time. I tried not to stare at the obvious mounds pushing against their shirts, the way their shorts hugged their hips, but my eyes kept drifting. My nuts gave a nervous twitch and I forced myself to look at the ground.

One of the senior jocks called out the rules for the newbies. Guys hide first. Five minutes to find a spot. Then the girls come in. If you get found, you take your kick. If you run or try to block all the girls get a turn with your nuts at the end. The same rules apply when we switch. Girls hide, we hunt, they owe us a flash.

My heart hammered as the whistle blew and the guys scattered. I ran into the woods, dodging low branches, scanning for a good cranny. I found a thick cluster of mountain laurel bushes near a fallen oak. I crawled inside, pressed my back against the rough bark, and pulled the leaves around me. The undergrowth was dense enough that you would have to step right on me to notice my shoes. I sat motionless, breathing through my nose, listening to the distant sounds of the girls counting down.

The ten minutes felt like an hour. Then the air shifted. I heard them entering the woods, footsteps crunching leaves, soft giggles, a few quiet calls of “Come out, come out.” My stomach flipped. I pressed my thighs together protectively and froze.

Minutes passed. Leaves rustled. A bird took off nearby. I heard someone walk past my bush, pause, then move on. I let out a slow breath. I thought I might actually last the hour, or at least avoid the first wave. Then I smelled something sweet, like vanilla body spray, and a shadow fell over my hiding spot.

The branches parted. A pair of bright blue eyes stared down at me through the leaves. A smirk spread across a familiar face. Ponytail so tight it pulled her skin back, blonde hair like corn silk, and a soccer jersey that barely contained the massive globes of her chest. It was Maya, the captain of the girls' soccer team.

“Got you,” she said, her voice a low purr that made my blood run hot and cold at the same time.

I tried to smile. “Hey, Maya.”

She pulled more branches aside and motioned with her finger. “Come on out, birthday boy. I know it’s your first time. I saw you in the hall. You turned eighteen today, right?”

I nodded, crawling out of the bush and standing on shaky legs. Up close her tits were even bigger than I imagined. G-cups, second biggest in school, and they sat high and heavy, the jersey stretched so tight I could see the outline of her bra through the fabric. Her legs were long and muscular, tan from soccer practice, ending in a pair of cleats. She crossed her arms under her chest, pushing her boobs up and together, and studied me with a flirty glint.

“You look nervous,” she said.

“A little,” I admitted. My voice cracked and she giggled.

“That’s sweet.” She stepped closer, close enough that I could smell the vanilla again. Her chest was almost brushing my arm. “You know the rules, right? I found you. Now I get to kick you.”

I swallowed hard. “Yeah, I know.”

Maya tilted her head and pouted, clearly enjoying the moment. “Aw, don’t look so scared. It’s just one kick. Most guys say the first one is actually kind of fun once the shock wears off.” Her lie was obvious but her tone was syrup. “I’ll tell you what, since it’s your first time, I’ll give you a little preview of what you might see when the girls hide later. Just to take your mind off things.”

Before I could respond, she uncrossed her arms and grabbed the hem of her jersey with both hands. She tugged it down against her chest, pulling the fabric even tighter, making her breasts push out like they wanted to burst free. She didn’t take anything off, but the shape of her nipples became stark against the nylon. The valley between her tits was deep and soft looking. I stared like an idiot, my mouth half open. She laughed, a throaty sound.

“There. Now you got an idea,” she purred, letting the jersey snap back into place. “Now spread your legs a little for me. I don’t want to miss.”

My brain screamed at me to run, but my body obeyed. I shuffled my feet apart. My balls suddenly felt very exposed even through my jeans. Maya shifted her weight, her ponytail swaying. She was still smiling but her eyes sharpened. “You’re gonna feel this for a while. Try not to scream too loud or half the squad will be on you.” She winked.

I tried to brace myself. I tensed my abs, my thighs, everything. Maya took one small step back, balanced on her left foot, and cocked her right leg. Her cleat glinted in the sunlight.

“Happy birthday,” she said, and her leg exploded forward.

The cleat caught me dead center, the hard toe of her shoe crushing my balls against my pubic bone with a sharp thump. A white hot bolt of agony shot up my spine and detonated behind my eyes. My mouth opened in a silent wail, and then the sound came, a high, strangled whimper that I couldn't stop. My knees buckled and I dropped to the forest floor, hands flying to my groin, though touching only made it worse. The pain was a deep, nauseating pressure. I rolled onto my side, curling into a ball, gasping for air.

Maya’s voice floated above me, still flirty and light. “Ooh, that was a good one. Can't stay to admire the show though, I wanna find a few more guys before the hour is up. Maybe see you when it’s our turn to hide, birthday boy. I hope you find me.” She blew me a kiss and her footsteps crunched away into the woods.

I pressed my forehead into the dirt and moaned. Every heartbeat sent fresh lava through my lower belly. I wanted to scream but I bit my sleeve, remembering her warning. If another girl heard me and found me in this state, I would never walk again. So I cried quietly, tears streaming into the leaves, while my balls throbbed with a pain that felt almost creative in its cruelty.

Time passed in a fog. The initial spike slowly dulled into a heavy, sick ache. My stomach settled enough that I didn't feel like I would puke. I uncurled slightly, still on my side, and took stock of my body. My legs were shaking. My fingers were numb. The world swam in and out of focus. But I was alive. I survived my first kick.

After what felt like ten minutes, I mustered the courage to check the damage. I rolled onto my back and fumbled with my belt buckle, my fingers clumsy and weak. I popped the button on my jeans and tugged down the zipper. I pulled my underwear away from my skin and looked down at my groin.

My balls were swollen, both of them. The left one was the size of a large plum, puffy and red, with a dark patch already spreading near the bottom. The right one was even worse, almost the color of an eggplant, and it rode higher than usual, tucked up toward my body like it was trying to hide. The skin of my sack was tight and shiny, stretched over the bloated orbs. The faint outline of my veins showed blue against the angry pink. I touched one gingerly with the tip of my finger and immediately hissed, jerking my hand away. The whole area radiated heat. I could feel my heartbeat in the swelling, a slow, deep thumpthumpthump.

I let my head fall back against the leaves. One kick from Maya and my boys looked like they had gone ten rounds with a meat tenderizer. And the hour wasn’t even half over. I closed my eyes and listened to the distant giggles of girls still hunting.

I tucked myself away gingerly and crawled back into the bush, praying no one else found me.

I tucked myself away gingerly and crawled back into the bush, praying no one else found me. My balls throbbed inside my jeans, each heartbeat another dull wave of nausea. I pressed my spine against the fallen oak and covered my mouth with both hands, forcing my breathing to slow. The distant shrieks and giggles of the girls echoed through the woods. I counted seconds in my head. There was still 35 minutes remaining. I hoped my hiding spot would hold that long.

Then a shadow blocked the dappled sunlight above my bush. A pair of black boots stopped inches from my hiding spot. The branches rustled apart.

“Well well well. What do we have here?”

The voice was honey and poison mixed together. I looked up. Jenna stood over me, hands on her hips, a slow smile spreading across her face. Her long dark hair spilled over her shoulders and her top was so low cut I could see the top half of her breasts, heavy and pale, the deep crease between them visible even from this angle. F-cups that defied physics. She wore tight black jeans that hugged her thick thighs and a leather choker around her neck. Her eyes, dark and glittering, traced down my body and settled on my crotch.

“Oh, looks like you got kicked already,” Jenna purred, crouching down beside the bush. Her perfume was something spicy, cloves maybe. “Was that a good one? Let me see.”

She reached out and hooked a finger through my belt loop, giving my jeans a tug. I whimpered. She was so close I could see the faint sheen of sweat on her collarbone. Her breasts strained against the thin fabric of her shirt, nipples pressing visibly. She was breathing a little heavier than normal.

“Come on, take them down for me,” she whispered. “Let me see the damage.”

I didn't have the strength to argue. My fingers fumbled with my buckle and zipper. I pulled my jeans down to my thighs. My boxers were still stretched over the swollen mass. Jenna leaned in and slowly pulled the waistband down too, her knuckles brushing my lower belly. My nuts lay exposed, purple and puffy and misshapen.

Jenna gasped. A genuine, delighted gasp. Her pupils dilated. She licked her lips.

“Oh my God,” she breathed, her voice trembling with something that was definitely not sympathy. “Look at those poor things. They're beautiful.” She traced a fingernail lightly along the underside of my left testicle and my whole body jerked. “Who did this to you?”

“Maya,” I croaked.

“Maya,” Jenna repeated, savoring the name. “She has a mean kick. But these aren't done yet. They can get a lot more swollen.” She cupped my sack with her palm. Her hand was warm. My balls pulsed against her skin. “I can feel them twitching. You're scared, aren't you?”

I nodded.

“Good.” She squeezed lightly, just enough to make me groan, then let go. “I'm going to kick you. That's the rule. But I want to play first.” She shifted onto her knees and leaned closer, her face inches from mine. “Here's the deal. You get to play with my tits. As long as you want. Touch them, squeeze them, suck them, whatever your little heart desires.” She reached up and pulled the neckline of her shirt down, exposing one magnificent breast. It was round and firm, the nipple pink and already stiff. Her areola was wide and perfect. “But when you're done, I get to squeeze your nuts. For the exact same amount of time. Every second you spend on my tits, I spend crushing your balls.”

My mouth went dry. Her breast was right there, begging to be touched. I had never seen anything so perfect. My nuts ached at the thought of what her hands could do, but my brain was already fogging with lust. And my body betrayed me completely. Despite the throbbing in my sack, a familiar heat spread through my groin. My dick began to swell, pushing against the fabric of my boxers, tenting them obscenely.

Jenna noticed immediately. Her eyes flicked down and a delighted smirk spread across her face.

“Oh my,” she cooed, reaching down and tracing the outline of my erection with one fingernail. “Look at that. All swollen and purple and you're still getting hard. You really are a birthday boy, aren't you?” She wrapped her fingers around my shaft through the cotton and squeezed gently. I groaned. “I'll take that as a compliment.”

I planned to be quick. Thirty seconds, I told myself. Just a quick feel and then I would stop. Thirty seconds of squeezing could not be that bad.

Jenna pulled her top down further until both breasts popped free, bouncing slightly before settling into their perfect heavy shape. Her nipples were aimed right at me, stiff peaks surrounded by wide pink areolae. “Go on, birthday boy. Happy birthday to you.”

I reached up with trembling hands and cupped her breasts. They were warm and soft and impossibly full. My fingers sank into the flesh. Jenna sighed and arched her back, pushing them into my palms. “There you go. Don't be shy. Touch me all over. Squeeze harder. I like it.”

I squeezed. My thumbs brushed across her nipples and she let out a low moan. I kneaded her tits, rolling them in my hands, feeling their weight. She was so responsive, her breath quickening, her hips shifting. Her hand stayed on my erection, stroking me slowly through my boxers, keeping me rock hard.

“That's it,” she whispered, “don't stop. You're so hard for me. Does that hurt? Having a boner with your balls all smashed up? I bet it does. Keep touching me.”

I leaned forward and took her right nipple into my mouth. She gasped and grabbed the back of my head, pressing my face into her chest. Her other hand kept working my shaft, slow teasing strokes that made my hips buck. I wanted to stop. Thirty seconds had definitely passed. But her fingers found the sensitive spot just under the head and rubbed, and my brain short circuited.

“Good boy,” Jenna purred, “suck on me. You like that? You like my tits in your mouth? I can feel your dick twitching. You're close, aren't you? But you can't cum yet. Not until I say so.”

She squeezed the base of my shaft hard, cutting off the building pressure. I whimpered against her breast. She released and stroked again, building me back up. Edging me. Keeping me right on the brink.

“You wanted thirty seconds,” she laughed, reading my mind. “Look at you now. Lost in my tits. Keep going. Keep sucking. I'm timing everything.”

I sucked and licked and groped, losing all track of time. Jenna's tits were everything I had ever dreamed of, soft and firm and huge, her nipples hard against my tongue. She moaned and squirmed, grinding her hips against nothing, while her hand kept my cock straining and leaking. Every time I got close she stopped, giggling at my frustrated groans.

Finally, some distant part of my brain screamed at me to stop. I pulled back, panting, spit dripping from my chin. Her breasts glistened with my saliva. Her cheeks were flushed pink. She looked down at me with hooded eyes and a wicked smile.

“Was that good?” she asked.

“Yes,” I whispered.

“How long do you think that was?”

“I don't know. Maybe two minutes? I lost track.”

Jenna laughed, a throaty sound, and held up her phone. “Five minutes and twelve seconds. You really got lost in there. My tits have that effect.” She released my erection, which was now painfully stiff and throbbing. “But now it's my turn. Stand up for me.”

My legs shook as I got to my feet. My jeans were still around my thighs. My swollen sack hung exposed, vulnerable. My dick jutted out, hard as a pipe. Jenna stood too, coming up to my shoulder. She pressed her body against my side, her bare breasts squishing against my arm, and wrapped her right hand around my balls. Her grip was firm but not yet crushing. My whole body locked up.

“Remember,” she breathed into my ear, “you asked for this. You played with my tits for five minutes. I get to squeeze for five minutes. Don't try to run or I'll make it ten.”

She started counting down from three hundred. Her fingers tightened.

The first squeeze sent agony through my core. My erection wilted instantly, the blood rushing away from my cock as if fleeing a sinking ship. Within two seconds I was completely soft, my dick shriveling against my thigh while all sensation concentrated in the crushed orbs in Jenna's palm.

“Aww, there it goes,” Jenna giggled, watching my deflation. “All that excitement just gone. Now it's just pain, isn't it?”

She twisted her wrist and my left nut popped between her thumb and forefinger.

“GAAAAH!”

My voice shot up an octave. My knees buckled. Jenna held me upright with her free hand on my shoulder, giggling. “There it is. That squeak. Let me hear it again.” She crushed down harder, grinding my testicle between her knuckles. Pain exploded up through my stomach. I grabbed her arm and tried to pry her off but she was stronger than she looked.

“Please,” I gasped, “please Jenna please-”

“Please what?” She squeezed again, a rhythmic pumping motion that flared agony through my groin.

“PLEASE STOP!”

“Stop? We're not even at two hundred and forty seconds yet.” Her voice was pure sugar. She adjusted her grip and caught both balls in her palm, crushing them together like she was trying to pop a pair of grapes. I screamed. My vision went white. I collapsed forward, my forehead landing on her shoulder, and she held me there, stroking my back with her free hand while she mangled my nuts with the other.

“Two hundred seconds left,” she cooed. “You can do this. Just scream it out. The louder you scream the more I like it.”

She squeezed harder. My voice broke into a shrieking wail.

“YES! YES!” Jenna cried, her voice turning breathy. “Oh my God your balls are so soft now, I can feel them denting under my fingers.” She kneaded my sack, rolling my testicles around while I sobbed into her shoulder. “One hundred and fifty seconds. You're doing so good, birthday boy. Sing for me.”

“AIIIEEEEEE!” I shrieked, my vocal cords shredding into a dog whistle pitch. My legs gave out entirely. I hung from her hand, my entire weight suspended by my crushed masculinity.

“Higher,” Jenna demanded, digging her thumbnail into the tender underside of my right nut. “I want you to sound like a little girl.”

“EEEEEEEEEE!” I wailed, high and shrill and pathetic.

“Oh fuck,” Jenna moaned, her hips jerking against my thigh. “Oh fuck, that sound. Do it again. Do it again, scream for me.”

She crushed both balls flat against my pelvis with her full strength. I unleashed a howl that cracked through the forest, so high-pitched it barely sounded human. Jenna's body shuddered against me. She let out a long, shuddering gasp and went rigid, her hand still clamped like a vise around my ruined nuts.

“God,” she panted, her voice thick and drunk, “God that was so good. Time's up.” She released me.

I collapsed to the ground, curling into a fetal position, both hands clutched over my groin. The world spun. My nuts were on fire, throbbing with an agony that made Maya's kick feel like a warmup. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. I just lay there, whimpering, tears streaming down my cheeks.

Jenna stood over me, still topless, her breasts heaving. She looked down at me with pure affection, like I was a puppy that had done a clever trick. “That was amazing,” she said, her voice returning to its normal sultry tone. “I came so hard. Thank you.” She pulled her top back up, tucking her breasts away. “But I still owe you a kick. I will go a bit easy on you though.”

She waited until I managed to uncurl slightly, until I looked up at her with pleading eyes. Then she took a step back, balanced on her left foot, and swung her right leg forward. Her black boot connected with my already demolished sack with a solid smack. I didn't even scream this time. My mouth opened but no sound came out. Just a silent, broken wail, my whole body seizing up before I flopped onto my back, staring at the canopy above.

Jenna knelt beside me and planted a soft kiss on my forehead. “I really hope I find you again next week,” she whispered, and then she was gone, her boots crunching away through the leaves.

I lay there for a long time. The sky spun. Birds sang somewhere far away. Eventually the white-hot agony settled into a deep bone ache and I could string thoughts together again. I sat up slowly, groaning, and looked down at myself.

My jeans were still around my thighs. My boxers were soaked with sweat. I pulled the waistband down with shaking fingers.

My balls were unrecognizable. They had swollen to the size of large lemons, both of them nearly twice the size they'd been after Maya's kick. The skin was tight and shiny, stretched over the bloated mass. Dark purple bruises spread across the entire surface, mottled with patches of deep black. I could see distinct finger shaped marks on the skin where Jenna's grip had compressed the flesh.

I lay there for what felt like an eternity. The canopy above me blurred and sharpened in cycles. My nuts throbbed with every heartbeat, a deep sick pulse that radiated into my stomach and lower back. I checked them again. Still swollen, still bruised, the finger marks from Jenna's grip now turning a yellowish green at the edges while the centers stayed dark purple. I pulled my boxers back up with a wince and squeezed my thighs together. Twenty minutes. I just needed to survive twenty more minutes and then the round was over.

I rolled onto my hands and knees and tried to crawl back toward my bush. My legs were jelly. I made it maybe three feet before my arms gave out and I collapsed into the leaves again. I decided to stay down. I pressed my cheek into the cool dirt and closed my eyes. Maybe if I stayed perfectly still no one would notice me.

"Hey. I know you."

My eyes snapped open. A pair of bare feet stood in the leaves in front of my face. I tilted my head up slowly. Sleek black hair falling straight past her shoulders. A fitted white t-shirt stretched over a firm full chest. Dark eyes looking down at me with a mix of amusement and curiosity. Slim waist, toned legs, the build of someone who had trained for years. Kim. The Korean exchange student. She crouched down on her heels, her knees together, and studied my face.

"You're the guy from History class," she said. "You sit two rows behind me."

I blinked. I hadn't thought she even knew I existed. "Yeah. That's me."

Kim tilted her head. A slight smile played at the corner of her lips. "You stare at my boobs a lot during lectures. You're not very subtle about it."

My face burned. I opened my mouth to apologize but she waved her hand.

"Relax. I'm not mad. I know my tits are hard to resist. You just stare like you're in a trance. It's kind of cute." She shifted her weight and her t-shirt pulled tighter across her chest. D-cups, firm and symmetrical, sitting perfectly on her slender frame. She was exactly my type. Slender and athletic and stacked. My dream girl was crouching in front of me while my balls were the size of tennis balls. The universe had a sick sense of humor.

"Looks like someone already got to you," Kim said, glancing at the way I was curled on the ground. "Let me see."

She didn't wait for permission. She reached down and tugged my boxers waistband forward, peering inside. Her dark eyes widened briefly, then settled into something more analytical. She tilted her head the other way, studying the damage like a doctor examining an x-ray.

"Damn. What happened to you?"

"Maya kicked me," I mumbled. "Then Jenna found me."

"Jenna." Kim nodded slowly. "That explains the finger marks. She squeezed you, didn't she?"

I swallowed. "Yeah."

Kim let the waistband snap back and sat back on her heels. She looked at me with genuine confusion. "Why did you let her squeeze you? That's not in the rules. The rule is one kick per find. Nothing about squeezing."

My face went from red to crimson. I stared at the ground. "She offered to let me play with her tits if she could squeeze my nuts for the same amount of time."

Kim stared at me for a long silence. Then she burst out laughing. It was a bright musical sound, her whole body shaking. Her boobs bounced with each giggle, straining against her t-shirt. She covered her mouth with one hand and tried to compose herself.

"Wait. Hold on. You let a girl crush your balls so you could touch her boobs?" She shook her head, grinning. "Wow. You guys would really do anything to get your hands on a pair of boobs, right?"

"It seemed like a good idea at the time," I muttered.

"I'm sure it did." Kim wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "I'm a bit tempted to offer you the same deal honestly. But I really want to find at least one more pair of nuts to kick before the round ends. If I spend too much time here playing with you I'll miss my chance." She stood up and looked down at me. "OK. Time for your kick."

My stomach dropped. "Kim, please. I can't. I can't get up. My nuts are already destroyed. If you kick me again I don't know what will happen."

Kim put her hands on her hips and sighed. "Guys are always so dramatic about their nuts. You're gonna be crying. You're gonna think you're dying. But your nuts will survive. Trust me. I know what I'm doing." She tapped the side of her bare foot against the ground. "I've been doing Tae Kwon Do since I was six. I know exactly how much force a human testicle can take before something ruptures."

"That doesn't make me feel better," I croaked.

"It should." She knelt down beside me and put a hand on my shoulder. "Look, I have to kick you. That's the rule. But you're clearly in no shape to stand so let's do this the easy way. Get on your hands and knees."

I stared at her. She patted my shoulder and pointed at the ground.

"Come on. On your knees. I'll kick from behind. It's actually better this way because you can't see it coming and your legs are already spread."

I didn't have the energy to fight. I rolled onto my stomach and pushed myself up onto my hands and knees. My arms trembled. My balls hung heavy and swollen between my thighs. The position made me feel even more exposed, even more vulnerable. I could feel the cool air on my damaged skin.

"Little wider," Kim said, tapping the inside of my left knee with her foot.

I shuffled my knees apart. My sack dangled open, both bruised orbs fully exposed from behind.

"There we go," Kim said pleasantly. She moved around behind me. I heard her feet shift in the leaves, finding her stance. Her hips rotated.

She suddenly laughed. "You know what? I'm in a good mood. So I'll give you something." I heard rustling fabric behind me. "Quick peek. Don't turn around yet."

I stayed facing forward. My heart was pounding. Then she said, "OK. Turn around."

I twisted my head over my shoulder. Kim had pulled her t-shirt up to her collarbone. Her breasts were bare. They were perfect. Absolutely perfect. Firm and round and full, D-cups that sat high on her chest without a hint of sag. Her skin was golden and smooth. Her nipples were small and dark, stiff in the cool air. Her waist was narrow, her stomach flat and toned, a faint line of definition along her abs. She looked like she had been sculpted. My mouth fell open and my dick twitched despite my bruised nuts.

"There," she said, holding the shirt up for a few seconds. "That should give you something to think about while you're crying on the ground."

She dropped the shirt. Her breasts disappeared behind the white fabric and I wanted to weep. She moved back behind me. I heard her settle into her stance.

"Breathe in," she said.

I took a shaky breath.

"Good. Now here's your kick."

The ball of her foot connected with my dangling sack with a crack that echoed through the trees. Her aim was surgical. Both testicles, dead center. The force drove them forward into my pelvis and then my body absorbed the rest. The pain was immediate and total. It started as a grenade detonating in my groin and then expanded outward, filling my stomach, my chest, my throat. My back arched. My mouth opened wide. My eyes rolled back.

"BLEEEEGHH!"

Bile surged up from my stomach and I puked. A thick stream of vomit splattered into the leaves in front of me. My arms gave out and I fell face first into my own mess. I didn't care. I couldn't care. The pain was so complete, so devastating, that my brain just shut down. I lay twitching in the leaves and bile, my legs kicking weakly, my hands grasping at my nuts.

I heard Kim's footsteps circle around to my side. She looked down at me.

"I told you your nuts would survive," she said. "But yeah, you're gonna be here for a while."

She crouched and picked a leaf out of my hair. "Try not to stare too hard on Monday. I might have to kick you again." She patted my head gently and stood up.

Her bare feet padded away through the leaves. I lay in the dirt and my own puke, twitching and sobbing, my balls radiating pure agony. After a very long time the nausea faded enough that I could move. I rolled onto my back, wiping vomit from my chin. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely unzip my jeans.

I pulled my boxers down and looked.

My balls had swelled even further, now the size of large lemons, maybe bigger. The skin was so tight it looked ready to split. The bruising was spectacular, deep purple and black across both orbs, with Kim's impact point clearly visible as a dark red oval on the front of my sack. The fingershaped marks from Jenna had spread and merged into one massive blotch. My left nut had swelled so much it pushed against my right, compressing both into oblong shapes. The skin was hot to the touch and throbbed visibly, each pulse making the whole mass shift slightly. I gently prodded the right one with my fingertip and a bolt of sick pain shot through my groin. I pulled my hand away and zipped up.

I couldn't walk. There was no way I could walk. The second round was going to start in fifteen minutes and I was lying in a pile of leaves and vomit with my balls the size of grapefruits. I pressed my forehead against the ground and closed my eyes.

Post was too long so the next part ishere

The arena was flush with the kind of energy that could only be found in a no-holds-barred fight. Underground, no rules, two bodies bare under the harsh white lights that hung above the octagon. The cage stood in the center of the warehouse, chain link gleaming, the canvas floor scuffed from previous battles.

Blake stepped through the gate first. Six foot four, two hundred and thirty pounds of lean muscle, every inch of him shaved smooth so his opponents had nothing to grab. His chest was broad, his abs cut into hard ridges, and between his thighs hung a thick, heavy cock and a pair of low-slung balls that swung as he walked. He raised his arms and the crowd roared. This was a man who had demolished his last six opponents, all of them men, all of them broken.

Jenny screamed his name from the front row, her voice cutting through the noise. She was stunning, long blonde hair loose around her shoulders, her big tits straining against a tight red top. She had watched Blake fight a dozen times and it never got old. Watching him put another man down, watching that huge body work, watching his opponents crumble. It made her wet every single time.

"That's my man," she shouted, gripping the chain link fence with both hands. "Destroy him, baby!"

Then his opponent, Chloe, walked out.

Five foot four, Asian, with sharp cheekbones and dark almond eyes that held a calm and quiet confidence. Her black hair was pulled into a tight braid. She smiled like she was strolling into a party instead of a cage fight.

When she saw her tits, Jenny's first thought was that they had to be fake. They were too big for her frame, too round, sitting too high on her chest with too much projection to be real. No girl that slim and small had tits like that without a surgeon's help. They were enormous, full and round and heavy-looking, the kind that made men forget their own names. Jenny had a great rack herself, she knew it, Blake told her every night, but these were something else entirely. The kind of tits that belonged in a different category.

Chloe bounced lightly on her toes as she walked and Jenny watched those massive breasts move with her and felt her certainty about the implants begin to crack. Fake tits did not move like that. They did not have that natural weight and sway, that subtle give as she shifted her shoulders. They bounced with her steps in a way that no surgeon could manufacture. Jenny stared for another few seconds and then had to quietly admit to herself, with no small amount of irritation, that they were completely real.

The girl had the most spectacular natural tits Jenny had ever seen in her life.

"What the hell," a man behind Jenny breathed, and several others laughed and hooted.

Jenny crossed her arms over her own chest, which felt suddenly less impressive, and made herself focus on Blake. Her Blake. Who was going to take this girl apart.

"Baby, look at her," Jenny called out, laughing. "She's tiny. Don't hurt her too bad."

Blake grinned back at his girlfriend, then turned his eyes to Chloe with the easy contempt of a man who had already decided how this ended.

"You sure you wanna do this, sweetheart?" He looked down at her from his full height, hands loose at his sides. "I'll try not to mess up that pretty face too bad."

Chloe tilted her head and smiled up at him. "Aw. You worried about me? That's sweet."

The referee called them to center, said a few words nobody followed, and stepped back. The bell rang.

Blake came forward like a freight train.

His first jab cut the air where Chloe's head had been a half second before. She slipped to the side, barely, the punch grazing the air beside her ear. He followed with a thundering right hook that would have caved her skull in. She ducked under it by the smallest margin, the wind from his fist disturbing the loose strands of hair at her temple.

Jenny pressed herself against the chain link. "Get her, baby! She can't keep dodging forever!"

Blake threw a low kick aimed at Chloe's thigh, heavy and fast. She lifted her leg and let it skim past by inches, then reset her feet. He pressed forward, throwing combinations, each punch heavy enough to end the fight. A left, a right, an uppercut that snapped up toward her chin. Chloe moved through them with a precision that made it look easy but was not, each movement the minimum necessary and nothing more. She was staying close, slipping each blow by fractions, letting them pass close enough to feel.

The crowd had gone from laughing to uncertain.

Jenny watched and felt her first flicker of unease. Chloe moved through Blake's combinations like she had seen them before, like she had studied them. Her huge tits swayed and bounced with each evasion and the crowd was transfixed by them but Jenny kept her eyes on Chloe's face. It was calm. Focused.

Blake threw a brutal overhand right that barely clipped Chloe's shoulder but still spun her halfway around. The crowd roared. She stumbled, caught herself, shook her head once.

"That's it!" Jenny screamed, slamming the fence with her palm. "One more, baby! Finish her!"

Blake charged in for the kill. He grabbed for her, his huge hands reaching to crush her in a bearhug.

Chloe twisted at the last possible instant. Blake's hands closed on empty air, his fingers grazing the soft warm curves of her tits as she slipped past him. The brush of her skin against his palms sent a jolt straight to his groin.

"Missed me," she sang, pivoting away.

Something changed in Blake's posture. He straightened up a little, his breathing changing, and between his thighs his thick cock began to swell. The sight of her, the feel of her skin, it had triggered something animal in him. Blood rushed south and his huge member lifted, thickening and rising, the shaft growing longer and fatter with each heartbeat until it stood out from his body in a full, rigid erection. It was a humongous cock, thick as a beer can and almost as long as Chloe's wrist. His huge balls hung low and tight beneath it, drawn up with arousal.

The crowd noticed. A wave of noise went through the warehouse, laughter and hoots and several very loud female voices.

Jenny's stomach clenched. She knew that cock. She knew exactly what it felt like when Blake came home from a fight, still wired and buzzing with adrenaline, and pushed her down into the mattress and used every inch of it on her until she could not remember her own name. The thought of it sent heat flooding between her thighs.

And then she registered that he was hard right now, in this cage, because of another girl.

Because of this small Asian woman with the impossible tits who was currently making him look slow.

The heat between Jenny's thighs curdled into something sharp and hot and angry. "Blake," she said, but the word came out too quiet, swallowed by the crowd noise.

Chloe noticed too. She looked down at his swollen cock with those calm dark eyes and something shifted in her expression. She rolled her shoulders back and her massive tits rose and pressed forward. "You like what you see? Come get it then."

Blake moved in again. He was still dangerous, still powerful, but there was a subtle shift in his timing. A fraction of a second of hesitation before each combination that had not been there before. His footwork was a touch heavier, as if a small portion of the processing power that had been running his fighting machine had been quietly redirected somewhere south of his waistline.

He threw a straight right with full force. Chloe rolled under it, the punch passing so close it moved the fine hairs on the top of her head. She came back up in front of him and stayed there, close, her big tits inches swaying.

His eyes moved to them. Just for a fraction of a second. The tiniest involuntary glance downward at that extraordinary chest.

Chloe had been waiting for exactly that.

Her right fist snapped out and cracked him square across the nose.

The impact was sharp and sudden. Blake's eyes flooded with tears instantly, the automatic reflex response, his vision blurring and swimming in the half second that his nervous system processed the hit. His hands came up toward his face.

In that half second, Chloe's foot left the canvas.

CRAAAACK.

The kick was impossibly fast, a blur of motion that the crowd barely tracked. The top of her foot rocketed up between his thighs and smashed into his big balls dead center with the full force of her hip and leg behind it. The sound of the impact cut through every other noise in the warehouse and killed the crowd's roar stone dead for one long, horrible second.

She had caught both heavy testicles flush, compressing them hard against his pelvis, the force of it traveling straight up through his body.

Blake's eyes went enormous. His mouth fell open. Every muscle in his huge body locked up simultaneously, his arms frozen out to his sides, his legs rigid, his whole two hundred and thirty pound frame turned to concrete by the explosion in his groin.

His hard cock twitched once and began to wilt.

The air left his lungs in a long, strangled wheeze that did not sound human.

"OHHHHHH," the crowd breathed.

Jenny's hands flew to her mouth. "Oh god. Oh no. Blake."

For three full seconds Blake stood there, locked up, his face cycling through expressions. Shock first, then confusion, then a deep and dawning horror as the pain that had started as a white flash in his groin began to spread, climbing up through his abdomen and into his stomach and chest like something alive.

Then his knees buckled.

He went down hard, both hands slamming between his thighs, his big palms trying to cup and protect what had already been stricken. He landed on all fours and immediately tried to push himself back up. His arms shook. He got his right knee up, planted his foot, started to rise.

"Come on, baby!" Jenny screamed, her voice cracking. "Get up! Get up!"

Blake made it to one knee. He was grey in the face, sweating through every pore, his teeth clenched so hard his jaw trembled. He planted his other foot and pushed.

His legs gave out entirely and he crashed back down to all fours, his head hanging low. A thick string of drool fell from his open mouth and hit the canvas. His hands found his balls again and he curled over them, his massive back rising and falling with ragged, useless breaths.

Chloe watched this with her arms folded under her big tits, her weight on one hip, her expression patient and amused. She was not even breathing hard. She let the crowd noise wash over her, the cheers and the groans and the screaming, and she smiled the smile of someone who has already counted the money.

She raised one arm and the crowd went absolutely insane.

"She got him!" a woman screamed somewhere in the stands.

"He's done! He can't get up!"

Jenny stood frozen at the fence, one hand gripping the chain link, her blonde hair falling across her face. She was watching Blake try to rise again. He got one foot planted. His thigh shook like the leg of a table with one bolt missing. He pushed himself halfway up, swaying, hunched forward, his hands hovering over his groin. His eyes found Jenny through the fence.

There was something in them she had never seen before. Something desperate and ashamed.

She felt a surge of real worry for his nuts, a sharp and genuine fear of what that kick had done to them. He was still trying to get up and failing, which meant the pain had not peaked yet. She knew enough about this to know the nausea came later, after the adrenaline dropped, and it could be brutal.

But beneath the worry was something else. Something she was less comfortable with. He had got beaten. By a girl. A gorgeous, big-titted, completely composed girl who had barely broken a sweat doing it. Blake, her Blake, who plowed through men twice her size, had been put on the canvas in the first round by a woman who was still standing there looking bored.

The anger sat hot and tight in her chest.

Blake's legs gave out again and he went back down to his knees, doubled over, his forehead nearly touching the canvas. He was not getting up. The adrenaline was gone and the pain had taken everything with it.

Chloe turned back around.

She walked to Blake slowly, no hurry in her step. She crouched down in front of him so her face was level with his. He lifted his head just enough to look at her, his eyes wet, his breath coming in short shallow gasps. His balls had already swollen in their sack and the deep rolling nausea had spread completely through him.

"Time to finish this," Chloe said.

"Wait." Blake's voice was barely there. "Just. Give me a second."

Chloe reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Then she reached down between his thighs.

Blake flinched back but his legs would not move fast enough and her hand found what it was looking for. Her fingers closed around both of his swollen testicles in her palm. She held them for a moment, feeling their weight.

Blake's whole body went rigid. "Please. Please don't. Please."

Jenny made a sound against the fence that she immediately pressed her fist against her mouth to kill.

Chloe squeezed.

"AHHHHH." Blake's voice shot up into a register that silenced the entire crowd. His hands flew down and grabbed her wrist but there was nothing in them, no force at all, they just trembled there against her forearm accomplishing nothing. "STOP. I give up. I tap out. I tap, I tap, you win, please."

"Tap out?" Chloe tilted her head, still squeezing with steady, even pressure. "Sweetheart, there's no tapping in this fight."

"Please," Blake sobbed, his big hands useless on her wrist. "Please, I give up. You win. I already give up."

She squeezed harder, grinding his nuts between her fingers.

"YOU'RE CRUSHING THEM!" Blake screamed, his voice cracking completely, going high and shrill and helpless. "YOU'RE CRUSHING MY BALLS!"

Chloe looked at him with bright amused eyes. "I know," she said simply.

Jenny stood at the fence with her hand pressed against her mouth and felt three things at once. She felt genuine fear for what those crushed testicles meant for her and Blake's future. She felt the hot ugly anger of watching her dominant, powerful boyfriend sobbing on his knees in front of a smaller woman. And underneath both of those, unwanted and strange and deeply confusing, she felt aroused. The sight of Chloe's small hand wrapped around Blake's big swollen balls, the sight of all that muscle rendered completely helpless, did something to her that she could not explain and did not want to examine.

She pressed her thighs together and stared through the fence.

Blake's body convulsed. His heels drummed against the canvas. The hands on Chloe's wrist went completely limp and fell away. His head dropped forward.

Chloe leaned in close to his ear, still squeezing, still working her fingers. "What were you going to do to me again? Not mess up my pretty face too bad?" She twisted, a sharp quarter turn. "Looks like you're the one who got messed up."

Blake made no more words. He made sounds, high and thin and broken, and then even those stopped.

His eyes rolled back.

His huge body went completely limp and the full two hundred and thirty pounds of him tilted forward and hit the canvas face first with a sound like a dropped sandbag. The giant was out cold.

Chloe released him and stood up. She stepped over his body, turned to face the crowd, and raised both fists in the air. Her big tits bounced with the motion, her braid swinging behind her, her face bright and triumphant under the white lights.

The warehouse shook with the noise.

Jenny stood at the fence looking at Blake's unconscious body spread out on the canvas. His huge arms loose at his sides. His face slack against the floor. The man who had broken six opponents without a scratch on him, knocked out cold by a girl who had barely thrown a punch.

Jake hoisted his duffel bag higher on his shoulder and unlocked the apartment door. His new roommate was supposed to move in today. He pushed the door open and stepped inside.

A tiny girl stood in the middle of the living room, holding a box labeled KITCHEN. She looked up at him with big blue eyes. Her hair was dark, cut short and messy. She wore a cropped pink tank top that clung to her chest and showed off her flat stomach. Her shorts were tiny denim cutoffs, hugging her slim hips and letting her long legs show all the way down to her bare feet. But it was her chest that stole Jake's breath. Her tits were massive, perfectly round, and strained against the thin fabric. On her small frame, barely four foot ten, they looked obscenely huge, like two soft cantaloupes. The tank top's fabric was stretched so tight he could see the outline of her nipples poking through.

Jake grinned. This was the best luck he'd had all year.

"Hey, you must be Erika!" he said, stepping forward with his hand out. "I'm Jake."

Erika set the box down and bounced on her toes, making her breasts jiggle heavily inside the tank top. She beamed up at him. "Hi Jake! I'm so excited to live here. I was just putting my stuff away."

Jake couldn't stop his eyes from dropping to her chest. Those tits were mesmerizing, swelling out from her tiny ribcage. They looked soft and heavy, the cleavage deep and inviting. He wondered how they'd feel in his hands. He wondered if she knew how good she looked. He kept staring, his mouth dry.

He never saw her leg move.

A sharp crack split the air as Erika's bare foot slammed into the front of his jeans. The impact was like a hammer between his legs. Jake's eyes bulged. His knees buckled instantly. The pain exploded through his gut and up into his brain, a blinding white agony that erased every thought. He crumpled to the floor, hands clutching his balls, and a low animal groan tore from his throat. He rolled onto his side, legs kicking weakly, his world reduced to the fire in his sack.

Seconds crawled by. The pain did not lessen. It started to get worse actually, he felt like he was going to puke. Jake wheezed, tears streaming down his face, saliva dripping from his mouth. He managed to lift his head, vision swimming, and saw Erika standing over him with her hands on her hips. She was smiling.

"Got you right in the nuts," she chirped happily.

Jake blinked, still not understanding. What had just happened? He stared at her, mouth open, trying to form words.

Erika crouched down, her face close to his. Her massive tits swung forward, almost brushing his cheek. She tilted her head. "Wow, that look on your face. Is this your first time getting a real nut shot?" She giggled. "I've kicked so many guys in the balls that I can totally tell when a guy's got virgin nuts. You looked so surprised."

Jake managed to gasp, his voice high and strained. "My balls! My balls! You broke them!"

Erika laughed, a bright cheerful sound. "No silly, I didn't even kick you that hard." She stood back up and stretched her arms above her head, making her tits lift and strain against the tank top. "But you were staring at my tits, and I have a rule."

Jake curled tighter, hands stuffed into his crotch. He felt like he was going to puke. His nuts throbbed, sending sharp pulses up into his stomach. He could barely breathe.

"The rule is," Erika continued, tapping her bare toe on the floor, "you don't stare at my boobs. Like, a polite glance is fine. But staring gets your nuts smashed. First time is a warning. So I gave you a little tap on the balls. Not hard at all."

"Not hard?" Jake squeaked, his voice cracking. He was still crying, tears and snot mixing on his face. "I can't feel my balls!"

"Yep, that's normal." Erika shrugged, causing her tits to wobble. "They'll come back in a few minutes. Maybe ten, maybe twenty. You'll be fine." She stepped over his crumpled body as if he were a rug. "I'm gonna finish unpacking. When you can walk, come help me with the heavy boxes."

Jake watched her cute little butt sway down the hallway. He lay on the cold floor, both hands cupping his aching sack, feeling like he wouldn't be able to get up any time soon.

Jake stayed on the floor for what felt like forever. The pain in his nuts slowly faded from a screaming agony to a dull, sickening throb that pulsed with every heartbeat. He could feel them again, both swollen and tender, resting heavy in his sack. He didn't want to move. He wanted to lie there and never get up.

"Jaaaaaaaaake." Erika's voice rang out from down the hall. "Come on. I need help with these boxes."

Jake groaned and pressed his forehead against the floor.

"Jake! I can hear you groaning. You're fine. Get up."

He didn't move.

"Jaaaaake."

With a shaky breath, Jake pushed himself onto his hands and knees. The movement jostled his balls and he grunted, squeezing his eyes shut. Slowly, carefully, he got one foot under him, then the other. He stood hunched over, legs spread wide to keep his thighs from touching his sack.

"Jake!"

"I'm coming," he croaked.

He shuffled forward, walking like a cowboy who had been on a horse for three days straight. Each step sent a little shock of discomfort through his groin. He kept his hands cupped protectively over his crotch.

He found Erika in her bedroom, standing beside a tall stack of boxes. She turned to look at him and her face lit up with a huge grin.

"Oh my god, look at you!" She clapped her hands together, bouncing on her heels. Her tits bounced with her, straining the thin fabric of her tank top. "You're doing the ball walk!"

Jake winced. "The what?"

"The ball walk. That wide-legged shuffle." Erika giggled, pointing at his stance. "I've seen it a million times. You'll be doing that for like an hour, probably. Maybe two since it's your first time."

Jake's face burned red. He tried to bring his legs closer together but the pressure against his swollen nuts made him gasp and spread them again.

"Aw, don't be embarrassed," Erika cooed, walking over to pat his arm. She had to reach up to do it. The top of her head barely came up to his chest. "It's cute when guys do the ball walk. Really shows them who's boss." She looked up at him with those big blue eyes, still smiling. "Now grab that box. The one on top. It's my books."

Jake looked at the box, then back at his crotch. He slowly moved one hand away from his nuts, reaching for the box. The moment he lifted it, the weight pulled at his core and his balls gave a fresh throb of pain. He whimpered.

"Oh no, did that hurt your little nutties?" Erika asked, voice dripping with fake sympathy. She covered her mouth with both hands but her eyes sparkled with amusement.

Jake didn't answer. He just stood there, holding the box, legs spread, breathing through the ache.

"Put it on the desk," Erika said, pointing. She watched him waddle over to the desk and set the box down with exaggerated care, his body still curved forward like an old man's. "You're so careful now. I bet you'll think twice before staring at my chest again, huh?"

"I wasn't staring," Jake muttered, though he knew it was a lie.

Erika snorted. "Your eyes were glued to my boobs. I could practically feel them poking my nipples." She casually cupped one of her tits, lifting it slightly. "I get it. They're awesome. But you gotta learn to be sneaky about it, you know?"

Jake turned around, still cupping his balls with one hand. "How many guys have you actually kicked?"

Erika tapped her chin, thinking. "Honest answer? I've lost count. Like a lot. My tits are pretty hard not to stare at."

Jake picked up another box, this time a lighter one marked SHOES. His balls still ached with a dull throb that reminded him of Erika's foot every time he took a step. He waddled across the room, legs wide, and set the box on her bed. Erika stood by the closet, sorting through a pile of clothes on hangers.

"There's three more boxes in the hallway," she said without looking up. "Can you grab them?"

Jake grunted and shuffled out of the room. He kept his eyes forward, determined not to get kicked again. The first box in the hallway was small and light. He carried it back easily. The second box was larger but manageable. He brought it to her room and placed it by the desk.

Then he came back for the third box. Erika was bent over, reaching into a low drawer, her back to him. Her tiny denim shorts rode up, and her cropped tank top pulled tight across her chest as she stretched forward. The fabric slipped up half an inch, revealing the soft curve of her underboob. Jake froze. The pale underside of her right breast peeked out, impossibly full and round against her tiny ribcage. He stared, mouth open, his brain completely short-circuiting.

Erika stood up and turned around. Jake snapped his head away, fumbling for the box. His heart pounded. Had she seen him? He grabbed the box and carried it inside, setting it down with the others. He didn't look at her face.

"Thanks," Erika said, her voice sweet. "Just two more in the closet."

Jake nodded and walked to the closet. He pulled out a box of winter coats and hauled it into the corner. When he turned around, Erika was standing on her tiptoes, trying to push a stack of blankets onto the top shelf of her wardrobe. Her arms were stretched high above her head. Her tank top rode up her stomach and the bottom curve of both breasts was fully visible now, the heavy swells pressing against the stretched fabric. The soft flesh looked like it would spill out any second. Jake's eyes locked onto that underboob. He couldn't look away. His mind replayed the moment he first saw her tits and a fresh wave of desire washed over him.

Erika dropped back onto her heels and turned. Jake yanked his gaze away so fast his neck cracked. He grabbed the last box and set it down by the door, his face burning.

"Okay," Erika said, dusting her hands together. "I think that's everything."

Jake let out a breath of relief. He had made it. She hadn't noticed. He started to turn toward the door, already planning his escape to the bathroom where he could ice his swollen nuts in peace.

"Oh, Jake?"

He stopped. "Yeah?"

Erika walked toward him, a big smile on her face. "You stared at my boobs two more times. I counted."

Jake's stomach dropped through the floor. "What? No, I didn't. I was just, I wasn't."

"You totally were." Erika kept walking, closing the distance between them. "First time when I was bending over by the drawer. Second time when I was reaching up to the shelf. You thought I didn't see you, but I did." She stopped right in front of him, hands on her hips, her massive tits level with his belly button. She looked up at him with a bright, cheerful expression. "I just waited until you finished moving my boxes because I'm smart."

"Erika, come on." Jake backed up until his shoulders hit the wall. "I tried. I really tried. It's just, your top is really small and your boobs are just, they're right there."

"Yeah, they are." Erika glanced down at her own chest, then back up at him. "And the rule is the rule. That's the only way you guys learn."

Jake pressed his back against the wall. His hands came up in front of him, palms out. "Please, Erika. One was enough. I learned my lesson."

Erika shook her head slowly, her smile never fading. "You stared twice. You get two. That's fair."

"But I can't take another one. My balls still hurt from the first kick."

"Then you should have been more careful." Erika stepped closer, her tiny bare feet silent on the floor. She was so small she had to look almost straight up to meet his eyes. Her massive tits swayed gently with each step. "Now spread your legs a little."

Jake pressed his thighs together. "No."

"Jake, don't be a baby. Spread your legs or I'll make it worse."

His whole body trembled. Slowly, miserably, he slid his feet apart. His swollen nuts hung vulnerable between his thighs. Erika glanced down at the bulge in his jeans and nodded.

"There we go. One for the drawer." She drew her foot back.

"Wait wait wait!"

Erika's bare foot snapped forward and slammed into his balls with a wet smack. Jake's voice died in his throat. His hands flew to his crotch and he doubled over, forehead almost hitting Erika's shoulder. The pain was a hot knife twisting in his gut. He slid down the wall, knees hitting the floor hard, and then pitched forward onto his hands. He stayed there on all fours, head hanging down, drool dripping from his open mouth.

"Ooooh, good shot," Erika said, pleased. "Right on the money. Your balls are kinda swollen now I bet. They make a nice target."

Jake couldn't respond. He just stayed on his hands and knees, gasping, trying not to puke. His nuts felt like they had been flattened. The world spun around him. He focused on breathing. In. Out. In. Out.

Behind him, he heard Erika's light footsteps. They circled around him. He couldn't lift his head to track her. Then the footsteps stopped. He felt her presence directly behind him, standing over his crouched form.

"And one for the shelf," Erika said, her voice coming from right above his back. "I'm gonna kick your nuts from behind this time. It's my favorite way. They just hang there all helpless."

Jake's eyes went wide. He tried to push himself up, to roll away, but his body wouldn't cooperate. His arms and legs were jelly. All he could do was stay on all fours, his backside facing her, his swollen ballsack dangling between his thighs.

"No, no, no, please," he whimpered. "Not from behind. Please."

Erika giggled. "That's what she said. Don't worry, I'll make it quick."

Jake heard her shuffle her feet. He felt her toes brush the inside of his calf as she lined up the kick. She was so close. He could imagine her drawing her leg back, those big blue eyes focused on the back of his jeans, targeting the tender bulge.

"Ready?" she asked.

"I'm gonna throw up," Jake groaned.

"Good. One, two, three!"

Her bare foot rocketed forward and smashed into his nuts from behind, crushing them against his own body. The impact lifted Jake's hips off the ground for a split second. A scream tore out of his throat, high and broken. His arms gave out and he collapsed face-first onto the floor, hands clutching his ruined sack. He curled into a tight ball, knees to his chest, sobbing into the carpet.

Erika stepped around to his front and crouched down. Her face was level with his tear-streaked cheek. "See? All done. Two kicks for two stares."

Jake just cried, rocking back and forth.

Erika patted his head like a dog. "You'll be okay. Balls are tough, kinda. They'll recover." She stood up and stretched, her tank top pulling tight across her chest. "I'm gonna order pizza. You want pepperoni?"