Friday, March 26, 2010

Pokemon Busting: Day One

A quick story based on the scenario of my Pokemon ballbusting site.




"Darla has fainted and is unable to battle! The victory goes to the male, Warren!"

The Feraligatr gasped in pain as his name was announced, one paw still shielding his groin as he looked down at his fallen opponent. The female Umbreon was clearly unconscious, but the adrenaline coursing through his system said otherwise. Maybe she was just faking, playing dead until he dropped his guard so she could slam her paw up into his nuts yet again--

My nuts! Warren's attention immediately shot to his ballsac and its battered cargo, both paws moving to cup the injured orbs. Another wave of nausea rose in his gut as he clutched at his aching spuds, trying to make sure they were both still intact. They seemed alright for the time being, but that did little to soothe the agony radiating from his groin, the nutpain that had been growing ever since his opponent had first sent her knee crashing up between his legs. He bent double, fighting just to stay upright, but it seemed to be a losing battle.

"Oh fuck," the gator groaned, feeling his legs start to give out beneath him -- but before he could topple to his knees, something caught his arm. The dazed male looked up, locking eyes with the female Machamp who had grabbed him.

"Come on, big boy," she huffed, "let's get you to the locker room..."


The next ten minutes or so were a bit of a blur for the Feraligatr -- a struggle to get off the field, a trek down to the stadium's Pokecenter, a none-too-gentle examination from the Chansey nurse, and then another trek over to the male locker room. Though he was unsure exactly how it all happened, eventually Warren found himself at the entrance to the men's showers, a towel clutched in one paw, a pair of tender orbs clutched in the other.

With a grunt the male hobbled forward, reaching to hang his towel on an empty hook before stepping fully into the room. Much to his relief, there was no one else to meet him: just the dozen-odd shower heads poking out from the walls. The naked gator took a few more steps towards the nearest shower, wincing at the jolts of nausea that shot up his spine with each step, his sore balls still throbbing with every tiny bounce. Biting his lip to stifle another groan, the Feraligatr turned the water on, shivering at the cold spray for a moment before it reached a more comfortable temperature.

In his native element of water, with the sweat and dirt of a hard-fought battle being rinsed from his body, Warren finally had a moment to think about what had happened. Sure, he'd known what he was getting into beforehand, but it was one thing to expect it and another thing to actually feel the ache in his abdomen. Even having heard all the rumors about the Underground League, he hadn't quite expected to have his balls blasted up into his throat like that…

Everyone had heard the stories by now, of course, or seen the fights for themselves -- the Underground League had already been around for several years, and it only got more popular with each season. Supporters considered it to be battle at its purest: two 'mon, one male and one female, fighting with nothing but their own two naked bodies. Protesters considered it barbaric: a pornographic, no-holds-barred battle of the sexes, with none of the usual reprieves or courtesy rules given by the regulation Pokemon League. There had been a few legal challenges to the whole thing, but so far it had all stood up. As long as they had the paperwork to show that everyone involved was willing, then they were good to go.

Regardless of the controversy -- or maybe because of it -- the League had seen nothing but success since it had first opened. Quickly it outgrew its initial home, moving into a larger stadium, but even then the stands were packed, tickets sold out weeks in advance. Initially the crowd had been mostly male -- lots of teens and young adults, hoping to catch a good fight and some live porn as a bonus -- but in the past year or so, there had been a shift in the demographics. A cult following had developed around some the league's female fighters, who had begun applying their generic battle skills to a much more specific and effective kind of attack: going for the balls.

What started as a few isolated Mega Kicks to the groin gradually became a near-endless procession of low blows: male after male brought to his knees in battle, crumpled in testicular agony. Female viewership tripled and 'mon packed the stands, supporters of a new "girl power" movement, cheering on the women in the hopes of seeing a few nuts cracked. Some fems were no-nonsense fighters, going straight for the gonads from the opening whistle, while others took a more sensual tact, teasing their male opponents to the brink of orgasm before delivering the finishing blow. The League made a small fortune on best-of tapes, showing hours of footage of kicks, knees, stomps, squeezes, and anything else a female could do to her opponent's berries. Online followers began swapping "ball-breaking" compilations with the most extreme material, showcasing popped plums and shattered nuts, proud males turned into eunuchs in the blink of an eye. Some of the most prolific ballbusters became sexual icons, modern-day Amazonians, featured in pin-ups and lusted after by fans.

Of course, the League had no trouble attracting plenty of paying spectators, and plenty of females were willing to try their luck in the ring…but the real difficultly came in attracting male participants. Not too many men were eager to step up and have their spunk-makers flattened, so the compensation for male fighters was generous, to say the least. The risks were enormous, but so were the rewards.

Which is what Warren reminded himself as he stood in the shower, both paws still cradling his battered family jewels. Gingerly the Feraligatr rolled his swollen nuts between his fingers, trying to ignore the leaden ache in his gut as he examined the rubbery orbs. They hurt, sure, but at least they seemed to be in one piece -- and that one battle had just paid a month's rent. He might be walking funny for the rest of the day, but it would definitely be worth it to come back in a few weeks' time.

Right now, though, the thought of another kick in the junk just made the gator feel nauseous. It was funny to think he'd been almost excited when the match had begun -- though to be fair, the female Umbreon he'd been facing was curvy in all the right places, and he hadn't seen any action for quite a while. When she'd wrapped her paw around his cock, he'd almost let himself think that he was going to get lucky, but then she got her fingers around his balls, and that…well, he'd never seen his testicles bulge like that before, and if possible he'd prefer not to see it again. He still wasn't entirely sure how he'd managed to squirm away without the Umbreon at least ripping one off, or how he'd managed to keep fighting without just crumpling into the fetal position. It was only the sheer adrenaline that kept him on his feet, and even then his legs were still quivering beneath him.

Warren let out another quiet groan, gently trying to massage the ache from his busted pair. His nutsac had loosened in the heat of the shower, letting its vulnerable contents dangle a bit more freely, but that did nothing to relieve the pain in his gut. The gator tried to distract himself by thinking of something pleasant, but that just conjured an image of his naked opponent, and that just conjured an image of his testicles squashed between her toes--

The Feraligatr winced and shook his head, trying to stop his imagination before it could go any further. "What on earth have I gotten myself into?" he grumbled, carefully rolling the sensitive spheres between his fingers. "How do guys do this week after week?"

"First time, huh?"

Warren jumped at the unexpected voice, his surprised gasp transitioning to a strangled moan as he accidentally swatted his already aching spuds. The gator couldn't help but hunch over, resisting the urge to fall to his knees once more as another wave of nausea spread through his body. "Nngha, my…nnrf."

The other male had to stifle a laugh at the sight. "Geez, man, relax -- you're hardly the first guy I've seen in here holding himself after a fight. Hell, half the guys they drag in here are still on the floor groaning." He took a few more steps into the showers, toeclaws clacking on the tile floor. "You alright?"

The Feraligatr let out a pained exhale and opened his eyes in time to see a slim but fit-looking Lucario step over to the shower across from him, turning on the water. "Uh…y-yeah," he replied, stomach still churning from the self-inflicted blow, "yeah, I'm alright."

"Still in one piece then, I assume." The Lucario grinned before turning and stepping into the warm shower spray. "How'd it go?"

The gator did his best to straighten up while the other male wasn't looking. "I-it went okay. I was fighting an Umbreon, and I sorta let her get the upper hand at first, but I pulled it out in the end."

"Oh, so you won, then?" The Lucario looked over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. "Not bad. Y'know, most of us guys don't win until we've got a few battles under the belt. Or below the belt, if you know what I mean."

"Heh," said Warren half-heartedly, "yeah, I definitely know what you mean."

"Just remember: you've got one thing they don't. Well, two things." The canine chuckled. "And that's why they've got the advantage."

"Right," murmured the Feraligatr, glancing down at his aching package. That wasn't something he would forget anytime soon.

"Sounds like you got off pretty easy, though," the Lucario continued, turning to face his companion while the water ran down his back. "I mean, some rookies get roughed up pretty bad out there. A couple days ago there was a Nidorino paired up against a Marowak -- she popped both his nuts in his first fight. Five minutes, stud to dud."

"Yeah, I heard about that…" Warren shivered, trying not to picture it even if the video was all over the web. Better to change the subject… "I'm, uh...I'm Warren."

"Sam." The male held out a paw. "Nice to meet ya."

"You too," the gator replied, carefully peeling a paw from his groin to shake hands. "So, um…you sound pretty knowledgeable. How long have you been doing this?"

"Me?" The Lucario gave a chuckle, running a paw through his wet headfur. "Long enough. See for yourself."

The Feraligatr had to fight back a bit of a blush as he watched the male reach down, lifting his limp cock out of the way to expose the berry pouch underneath -- and to expose the lone lump rolling at the bottom of that pouch. It took a moment for Warren to process what he was seeing, but when he did he swallowed, his paws unconsciously drawing tighter around his own bruised pair. "Wait, s-so you've actually…"

"Yep -- lost it about a month ago." The fellow male looked down wistfully at his groin. "I let my guard down, this Blaziken babe gave me one hell of a kick, and that was about it. They tried to save it, but the nurse said it was basically liquefied."

"Arceus." Warren's eyes were wide. "But you're still here fighting."

"Yep." He chuckled. "You think your paycheck is ridiculous now? Wait 'til you see how much they offer you when you've already lost a nut. Not to mention the bonus you get for having one crushed in a battle."

"Well yeah, but…" The Feraligatr bit his lip. "Aren't you worried that you're gonna, y'know… pop the other one?"

The male winced. "Yeah, it is just a matter of time. Just last week I fought a Zangoose chick that almost finished the job -- one more Crunch and I swear my ball would have burst. But see, I don't mind because me and my girl are looking to get rid of 'em anyway. Neither of us wants kids, so this seemed like an easy alternative to a vasectomy." He grinned. "Besides, I'd rather get paid for providing a good fight than have to pay a surgeon to cut me open."

"I-I guess," Warren replied, his gaze still locked on the Lucario's solitary testicle as it dangled in the warm locker room air. The Feraligatr frowned, his stomach churning at the thought of losing a nut. "Didn't it hurt, though?"

"Oh, like you wouldn't believe. I can't even remember the first couple minutes after it happened -- the doctor said I was just crumpled up on the ground, mewling like a pup. Hell, I thought for sure she'd popped both of 'em at once." The male reached down to roll his remaining nut between his fingers. "This guy swelled up pretty badly for a few days afterward, but after a week or so it was pretty much back to normal. Though I imagine my sperm count is pretty low at this point."

Warren managed a nervous laugh, glancing down at his own package. "Y-…yeah, I'm kind of worried about that myself. I get the feeling that after a couple more battles I'll be shooting nothing but blanks."

The Lucario nodded. "Sounds about right. You been to a sperm bank yet?"

"Uh…no, actually."

"Well, do it now -- spend your first paycheck and go get some of your spunk frozen. Better safe than sorry." The male shook his head. "Believe me, all it takes is one well-placed Stomp and your eggs are scrambled for good."

"Oh, I believe you," he replied, glancing back up at the Lucario's sac and feeling his own spuds ache sympathetically. "Maybe I'll do that this afternoon, once I'm feeling a little less…sick."

The male chuckled. "Yeah, I know how it is after a battle -- hard to focus on much else while your boys are throbbing. Spend the night at home with a good cold ice pack and you'll feel a lot better. You got a girl to take care of you?"

"Ah, no," Warren replied sheepishly, "kinda between girlfriends right now."

"Mmm, that's too bad. In that case," the canine continued, dropping his voice and leaning in, "you know what the best thing to do is? Once you've had that ice pack on for a while and your nuts are good and numb, find some really good porn and blow a load or two. It lets you make sure that everything's working and it'll make you'll feel much better, trust me."

"I…u-um, okay," the Feraligatr stuttered, now blushing quite a bit. "I-I'll keep that in mind."

"Good." The Lucario grinned, reaching back to turn off his shower. "Well then, I should probably get going -- I've got a fight with a Sceptile in half an hour and I'm not even warmed up yet. Wish me luck, yeah?"

"O-of course," Warren replied. "I'll…see you around then, I guess."

The canine nodded, grabbing his towel off of the rack. "Definitely. Later!"

"Later," the Feraligatr replied, watching as the Lucario disappeared around the corner. The gator frowned for a moment before glancing back down at his sac, the two large orbs that were still sending pangs of pain into his gut. Well, at least I've still got both of 'em, he thought, giving himself a cautious fondle. That's gotta count for something.

With a few more seconds to compose himself, Warren turned off the water and hobbled over to the towel rack, wrapping the dry cloth around his waist. Carefully he began the slow trip to his locker, trying not to upset the tender spheres hanging between his legs, and wondering if he still had the link to that lesbian Latias video…