Just kicking back in bed...
Hey all, I'm totally not dead!
So I'm actually posting this story out of order – the next Dragon Slaying ABC snippet should be the one for the letter C ("Caught in the Crossfire"), which is currently around 60% done and sitting at about 7500 words. Still, I haven't posted something in forever, and I didn't want to wait another god-knows-how-long to finish Caught in the Crossfire, so here you go.
Enjoy, and let me know what you think!
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"How's the view?"
"Mmm...stunning as always." I looked over the dragoness below me. Lia was face-down on the mattress, her arms stretched to the headboard, her legs close together. Her back was a sea of red scales, her shoulder muscles shifting as she settled into a comfortable position. She stretched out her legs as well, toeclaws curling as she worked the day’s soreness from her haunches. Her thighs and calves were gorgeous, sculpted things – though at this point in our relationship, I had difficulty thinking about her legs without picturing her knee buried in my groin. Still, awfully attractive.
And her ass...well, that was what I was here for. Two perfect globes, round and firm, with just the right amount of jiggle when you slapped them. (Ironically, it occurs to me that Lia would probably say the exact same thing about my two globes.) Lovingly I reached out a hand, allowing myself a quick grope as I shifted myself into position. I knelt above my mate, straddling her lower body, her legs and tail between my spread legs.
Lia grinned at the touch, wiggling her butt in response. "And how are the boys?"
I exhaled slowly, resisting the urge to lower myself and simply start penetrating the dragoness from behind. Instead I remained upright and shifted backwards a bit, until my hips were even with the backs of her knees. "They're still a bit sore, to be honest. Take it easy on me this time?"
"Hmmmm." Slowly she bent one leg behind her, raising her foot until it touched against the underside of my scrotum. She nudged my balls gently, lifting the heavy orbs and allowing them to roll off the sole of her foot. "No promises."
I shivered as her foot drifted a few inches higher, rubbing against the base of my already-throbbing cock. Letting Lia's foot near my junk was always a risky proposition, but at least in this particular situation I knew what to expect.
Sure enough, before I had time to steel myself, the dragoness had started. She lowered her foot for a brief moment before kicking it up playfully. The ball of her foot struck my hanging sac with a fleshy smack, sending my two orbs swinging forwards.
"Oogh." I groaned automatically in pain, even as a clear shot of pre burst from the end of my cock to splatter on the back of her bare thigh.
"Mmm," she crooned.
We'd been trying out this routine for a few weeks now – whenever Lia wasn’t in the mood, but I still wanted her help to get off, she’d drag me into the bedroom for some quick relief. Now that we were mates, she was more than happy to be my own personal pin-up model...but as always, there was a catch. One that involved a bit of ballbusting. As with most things involving Lia and my testicles, I wasn't entirely sure why I’d ever agreed, but at least once a week I'd find myself kneeling over her in bed, stroking my dragonhood as a foot or tail smacked up between my legs. Sometimes it'd turn her on, and we'd end up having sex afterward anyway.
Most of the time, though, it was just a fancier form of masturbation. Speaking of which:
"You gonna start stroking yourself?" Lia asked, her voice teasing. She had raised her foot once more, and now it nudged up against the bottom of my balls. "Because I don't plan to stop kicking until you do."
"Yes ma'am," I grunted, wrapping my claws around my stiff length. No sooner had I done so than her foot shot upwards once again, striking my spunkmakers hard enough to make them bounce up against my hand. Another low groan left my mouth as I hunched over, planting my other hand against the mattress for support.
Lia glanced back sheepishly, blushing. "Whoops, that was maybe a bit harder than I meant." She bit her lip. "You are pretty cute when you groan, though."
I sniggered, and bent over a little further to plant a quick peck on her lower back. "Just don't break anything."
"Nnn." Her hips shifted a bit, possibly to grind her clit against the bed beneath her. "I'll do my best."
I straightened up once more, my hand moving from the bed to the dragoness's rump. Once again I gave the firm flesh a squeeze, growling in satisfaction. Beneath me, Lia murmured pleasantly, rubbing the top of her foot against against my dragonhood. Another line of pre dribbled down my length, a drop or two falling to the bedspread.
I jumped in place as Lia kicked upwards with her other foot, catching my gonads softly but squarely and sending a jolt of nutache through my gut. I moaned in arousal and discomfort as the female trapped my spuds between her feet, gently squeezing the swollen orbs as my fist continued to pump away just above.
I rarely lasted more than a few minutes like this, and today was no exception. Already I could feel an orgasm approaching – the sight of my mate spread out before me, combined with my testicles' instinctual urge to get out of harm's way as soon as possible, meant that my body was quickly preparing to blow.
"You getting close?" Lia asked, more a statement than a question.
I bit my lip. "Hnnf...yes," I admitted. I'd tried to hide my impending orgasm from her once, and she hadn't been pleased. As much as a few back kicks might sting, they were nothing like the prolonged squeezes she'd given me once for finishing without a warning.
"Mmm." The female shifted a bit, lowering her legs to the bed, and immediately afterward I saw the muscles in her backside begin to tense. Sure enough, up rose her tail between my legs, carefully moving to cradle my dragonmakers. My loose sac rested on her tail, one large plum dangling to each side. Behind me, the tip of her tail curled upwards to stroke along my back. I shuddered at the touch, and my cock gave another involuntary twitch, firing a third shot of pre that landed on one of Lia's ass cheeks.
Lia inhaled in surprise, then almost purred, shifting her hips once more to grind against the bed. "That's it, stud." Her voice was calm and steady, her touch reassuring. "Cum for me. Gimme that spunk."
Her tail lowered for a short moment before thumping up between my legs, squashing my gonads against the hard bone of my pelvis. I gasped as my left nut took the brunt of the blow, the oft-abused sphere radiating a familiar ache through my gut.
Still, aching nuts or no, I was ready to blow. My fist slid up and down, my member pulsing in my grip. "Mrrgh! Oh fuck, I–...I'm gonna–!"
Lia looked back over her shoulder, smirking as she brought her tail up several times in rapid succession: thump, thump, thump. None of the blows were very hard – just love taps by Lia's standards – but I was on the edge of orgasm, and every sensation felt magnified by a thousand. I let out a guttural groan as her thick tail slapped up against my scaly sac, sending my orbs bouncing like a pair of ping pong balls. I began to double over again, and planted my hand on her ass for support; Lia moaned and brought her tail up hard, hard enough to drive the breath out of me–
My cock throbbed and unleashed a long rope of dragonseed across my mate's rear, thick globs of white that cut across her usual ruby red. That rope was followed by a second rope, then a third – and then a fourth rope that managed to reach all the way to Lia's shoulder, thanks to some extra momentum from one last mid-orgasm kick. That final blow finally brought me down, and I collapsed on top of the dragoness, my shaft still twitching forcefully against her thigh as it delivered a few last spurts of my genetic gift.
For a long moment, I simply lay there and moaned – in pain or ecstasy, I'm not sure which. (Probably both.) Beneath me, Lia squirmed for a few seconds, one of her hands sliding down towards her sex. I could feel her body tense and relax beneath me as her fingers reached their goal, her hips starting to move against the bed again.
"Mmph." Her voice was thick with arousal now. She rolled onto her side, hand busy between her legs. "Think you can be ready again in a few minutes?"
My cock throbbed once more, and I nodded. "Hell yes."
Showing posts with label ejaculation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ejaculation. Show all posts
Friday, May 23, 2014
Sunday, August 4, 2013
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
Pokemon busting blurbs 9-10 (+ MLP bonus snippet #2)
I'm writing these at a glacial pace, but I still haven't abandoned the project! All those 'mon balls aren't going to abuse themselves :P
Also: if you like furry ballbusting, GO CHECK OUT THE FURRY BALLBUSTING FORUM! http://furrybb.myforum.ro. There's some excellent stuff, and you should all be signed up and contributing. GO GO GO!
P.S. If you have any ideas for future Pokemon/MLP ballbusting blurbs, be sure to leave 'em in the comments! I might not ever get to all the suggestions, but it's good to have inspiration :)
Vulpix (F) vs. Lucario (M)
It wasn’t the first time she’d held a male’s testicle in her paws – nor was it the first time she’d squeezed a gonad like she was juicing an orange. And yet as the Vulpix bore down, her thumbs sinking deep into the center of the Lucario’s nut, the female couldn’t help thinking that she must somehow be doing it wrong. Otherwise, wouldn’t he be begging for mercy?
“Ohhhhhhh, fuck. You’ve got practice.” The male had long since given up on trying to stand – it was all he could do just to stay conscious as his opponent tried to scramble his egg. And yet the Lucario was making no effort to escape. If anything, he was encouraging his attacker, his hips thrust forward into her brutal squeeze, his arms folded behind his head as he watched the naked fox do her worst. “Ohh!”
The Vulpix grit her teeth as she adjusted her grip, but suddenly the rubbery sphere popped free, squirting out from between her fingers like a ball shot from a cannon. She could see the stab of pain that went through him as his spud reinflated to its usual round shape: the twitch in his leg, the tightening of his chest muscles. His eyes went unfocused for a moment, his lips parting slightly in a silent oh.
Then her furry fist slammed up between his legs, driving both orbs into his pelvis, and the Lucario was silent no more. “Sh-...shit!” he squeaked, voice jumping an octave as the fox found her grip again, this time attacking both balls at once. His body shook as she ground his testicles together, his swollen spunkmakers rearranging themselves around her fingertips in an effort not to collapse under the pressure. And yet still, the male made no move to stop her. “You...you’re stronger than you look!” he warbled, his voice high and weak, yet unshakably confident.
The fire-type growled dangerously. “Do you want me to pop them?” she growled.
“I’d like to see you try,” he shot back.
The fox narrowed her eyes. “That can be arranged.”
“Ohhhh...ohh! Oh ARCEUS!”
Umbreon (M) vs. Blaziken (F)
Ten seconds later and they would have missed each other entirely – but it was just one of those days for the Umbreon. As he rounded the corner, lost in thought about tomorrow’s midterm, the male walked smack dab into the Blaziken from down the hall...still dripping wet from her shower, and wrapped in only a towel. Both ‘mon jumped in surprise, and the Umbreon threw his hands up in apology, accidentally knocking the towel from her body. His eyes widened at the sight of the female’s bare breasts...just as her foot came rocketing up between his legs in an instinctive kick, driving his family jewels into his throat.
A burst of pain exploded in his groin, and the dark-type doubled over with a quiet squeak, falling forward – directly onto the Blaziken. His face landed between her breasts, and by the time the Umbreon realized just how much danger he was in, the fire-type had already drawn her leg back for a second blow. This time her knee crushed his poor testicles to a fraction of their usual plumpness, his left nut slipping out of the way, but his right nut taking the full force of the blow. It was a small miracle that the orb didn’t burst as it was flattened between kneecap and pelvis, sending a massive wave of nausea into his gut. His muzzle opened to make some cry of pain – and then the male’s eyes rolled back into his head as he slumped to the ground, collapsing in a heap at the Blaziken’s feet.
“Perv!” spat the female, still fuming. She turned and stomped away down the hall, leaving the unconscious Umbreon (and his two swollen testicles) for someone else to discover.
Cadance and Shining Armor (MLP)
Cadance looked at her fiancé with no small amount of irritation. “Are you disagreeing with me?”
“I guess I am–ah!”
The stallion suddenly looked queasy, his eyes going unfocused and his jaw falling slack. The unicorn’s horn sparked weakly as instinct kicked in, trying to cast a defensive spell – but then the foreign magic reached its intended target, and all the male’s resistance broke.
Across from him, the alicorn princess grinned maliciously, her own horn lit with a malevolent green light. “Oh dear, are you getting another one of your ‘headaches’?” Casually she stepped around the rigid male, in order to better examine her handiwork.
Shining Armor’s mouth moved, but no sound came out. Between his hind legs, his two heavy coltmakers were bathed in a sickly glow. The impressive orbs squirmed in his sac of their own accord, as if trying to retreat into his abdomen, but that did nothing to soothe the gut-wrenching nausea radiating from his groin.
Cadance narrowed her eyes, and suddenly the skin around his gonads grew taut. The unicorn let out a squawk of pain as his left nut was crushed by an invisible force, his eyes watering at the sudden bolt of testicular agony. His gonad instantly abandoned its usual round shape and flattened like a pancake, as though it were being stomped beneath an angry mare’s hoof.
Training for the Royal Guard had never prepared him for this. “Gyah!”
“Feeling better?” asked Cadance, a smirk playing at one corner of her mouth. Already, she was probably doing permanent damage to the stallion – but a few more pounds of pressure, and Ol’ Lefty would be nothing but plum pudding. Briefly, she considered it...but the risk of blowing her cover was too great. Besides, there would always be time to grind his gonads to goo after the changelings took over Equestria...
Friday, September 28, 2012
Pokemon busting blurbs 1-8 (+ MLP bonus snippet)
Here's what I've got so far. Enjoy! :)
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Mewtwo (F) vs. Umbreon (M)
Sure, she was a powerful opponent, but it should have been a fair fight with the type advantage.
Should have been.
The Umbreon let out another agonized squeak as an Iron Tail crashed up between his legs, flattening his spunkmakers to a fraction of their usual plumpness. The force of the blow lifted him up onto his toes, the bulk of his body weight resting on the poor, poor orbs between his legs until the female withdrew her tail and let him crumple to the ground.
"Oh god," he moaned, clutching his swollen basket in his paws. He'd given up any chance of winning the match – now the goal was just to survive with his testicles intact. "My balls!"
"Honestly," she asked, sounding almost bored, "you're a male and a Dark-type. Did you think I wouldn't learn Low Kick?"
He opened his mouth to reply, but by then she'd slammed Low Kick #3 into his crotch, and his balls were in his throat again.
Arcanine (F) vs. Houndoom (M)
Her arms were wrapped around him: her bare breasts pressed against his back, one paw running through his chestfur and the other gently encircling his balls. The Houndoom trembled in her embrace, cock twitching with arousal. It could easily have been the hottest moment of his life – if not for the fact that the Arcanine had spent the past fifteen minutes trying to crush his nuts into peanut butter.
“Go ahead,” she had crooned. “I’ll let you finish.”
And so the male was stroking himself off, despite the crowd of thousands watching them both; trying not to think about how this might be his last chance to orgasm. If she decided to squeeze...
But he was close now, oh so close. In a few seconds–...well, in a few seconds he’d probably have a sac full of mush, but if he was lucky, he’d get to blow his load first. One last blast of spunk. Maybe they’d even scrape some up; the Houndoom could still have pups.
His breath grew shallower, his length like a bar of iron in his paw. To his immense relief, the Arcanine withdrew the paw around his balls, pulling at his chest, her breath hot on his ear. To his immense surprise, she slid her paw downwards again, grabbing his cock roughly, beating him off like a woman possessed. That was all it took. His lips parted in an orgasmic cry–
–and her knee slammed into his groin, popping his left nut like a grape.
By the time her knee came up again and turned his other gonad to goo, the poor Houndoom had already passed out. And so he was unable to enjoy it when, a moment later, he finally exploded into his opponent’s paw...and unable to stop it as the Arcanine licked his unborn children off her fingers.
Dragonite (F) vs. Aggron (M)
“Holy shit!” screeched the Aggron.
“Huh? You see?” The Dragonite had her arms folded across her bare breasts, scowling down at the steel-type on the ground beneath her. Her foot was planted firmly on his swollen plums, the twin spheres bulging out beneath her massive weight like a pair of balloons about to pop. “You should be resistant to an attack like Outrage, and yet here you are, squealing like a Tepig from a few stomps to the groin.”
“My nuts–!” the Aggron wailed, clutching at her leg.
“Do you get it? ‘Balls of steel’ aren’t really an advantage because they’re still balls.” She shifted her weight forward for emphasis, her opponent’s testicles somehow flattening even further under the tremendous pressure. “And if you swing them in some girl’s face like that, you can expect them to get stomped!”
“Oh Arceus!” the male shrieked, scrabbling even more frantically at the female’s calf as she bore down on his tortured stones.
“Understood?” the Dragonite asked threateningly.
“Oh please yes please PLEASE–”
The Aggron gasped in sudden relief as the female lifted her foot, his gonads reinflating to some approximation of their usual round shape – only to be crushed once more by a vicious Dragon Tail. The male let out a thin high squeal as her tail came crashing down once, twice, thrice between his legs, each time pounding his manhood to the very edge of rupture.
She paused after four, then shrugged. “One more for good measure.”
It was impossible to hear over the mighty thud of the female’s tail striking the ground, but both combatants felt the tiny pop.
The Dragonite’s eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise. “You see?” she growled. “Even more fragile than I thought.”
Lopunny (F) vs. Lucario (M)
She was a stunner alright – tall and leggy, exactly what he’d always liked in her species. Awesome tits, too. And the type advantage meant that it would be an easy battle – a chance to rub elbows (and other parts, hopefully) before he knocked her out.
Of course, that was before she’d punted his balls into his throat a dozen times. Now he was beginning to wonder how he had ever found a Lopunny’s legs sexy.
“Please,” the Lucario gasped, but it was no use: yet another Low Kick came slamming into his groin, his gonads squishing between the female’s toes in an attempt to avoid the brutal impact. The male squealed in agony, twitching on the ground as another wave of nausea exploded forth from his spunkmakers.
The steel-type had long ago stopped trying to counter-attack – now he just tried to curl into the fetal position and protect himself from any more ball-breaking blows. But the Lopunny just grabbed him by the ankles, spread his legs wide, and kept kicking.
“Please–!”
“Shut up and take it like a man,” she growled, delivering another kick for emphasis, “while you still can.”
He was already beyond saving. He had to be. And yet it still came as a surprise when it finally happened.
Splut.
The Lucario’s squeal jumped an octave as his right egg burst, its contents utterly scrambled by the force of the female’s kick. The pain in his groin doubled – something he would have thought impossible a moment earlier.
He looked up in time to see the Lopunny grinning, cocking her leg back for another blow.
Thud.
Thud.
Th-splut.
Alakazam (F) vs. Scyther (M)
Thunk. It was such a small, quiet impact that you might have missed it if not for the Scyther’s reaction.
“Fuck!” the male groaned, doubling over as another wave of nutpain echoed through his gut. It was getting worse with each hit – his testicles felt bruised. He spun to knock aside the implement behind him, but the floating spoon was already gone. “You can’t...this isn’t fair!”
“Oh can’t I?” The Alakazam side-stepped as the bug swiped at her, his arm-blades hitting nothing but air. Her spoon floated casually back into her hand. “You seemed to be enjoying it a minute ago.”
“That was...oh...that was different,” he complained, struggling to maintain focus. “You...nngh...nggha...”
The female was sticking her tongue out at him – which was appropriate, given what she was doing to his cock. The Scyther could have sworn someone was sucking him off, but all that surrounded his maleness was a cool blue glow. His legs trembled as the psychic force caressed his member, the pink length throbbing needfully in the open air.
And then her spoon was back, striking his right nut with a thud that sent his ballbag swinging. “Gah! You bitch!” he spat, fighting the urge to crumple to his knees.
Her teasing smile turned into a icy frown. “Well if you wanted me to be mean, you just had to ask.”
Before the male knew what was happening, his legs had been yanked apart by a strong psychic pull, and the Alakazam’s foot was buried in his groin.
Sure, she was a powerful opponent, but it should have been a fair fight with the type advantage.
Should have been.
The Umbreon let out another agonized squeak as an Iron Tail crashed up between his legs, flattening his spunkmakers to a fraction of their usual plumpness. The force of the blow lifted him up onto his toes, the bulk of his body weight resting on the poor, poor orbs between his legs until the female withdrew her tail and let him crumple to the ground.
"Oh god," he moaned, clutching his swollen basket in his paws. He'd given up any chance of winning the match – now the goal was just to survive with his testicles intact. "My balls!"
"Honestly," she asked, sounding almost bored, "you're a male and a Dark-type. Did you think I wouldn't learn Low Kick?"
He opened his mouth to reply, but by then she'd slammed Low Kick #3 into his crotch, and his balls were in his throat again.
Arcanine (F) vs. Houndoom (M)
Her arms were wrapped around him: her bare breasts pressed against his back, one paw running through his chestfur and the other gently encircling his balls. The Houndoom trembled in her embrace, cock twitching with arousal. It could easily have been the hottest moment of his life – if not for the fact that the Arcanine had spent the past fifteen minutes trying to crush his nuts into peanut butter.
“Go ahead,” she had crooned. “I’ll let you finish.”
And so the male was stroking himself off, despite the crowd of thousands watching them both; trying not to think about how this might be his last chance to orgasm. If she decided to squeeze...
But he was close now, oh so close. In a few seconds–...well, in a few seconds he’d probably have a sac full of mush, but if he was lucky, he’d get to blow his load first. One last blast of spunk. Maybe they’d even scrape some up; the Houndoom could still have pups.
His breath grew shallower, his length like a bar of iron in his paw. To his immense relief, the Arcanine withdrew the paw around his balls, pulling at his chest, her breath hot on his ear. To his immense surprise, she slid her paw downwards again, grabbing his cock roughly, beating him off like a woman possessed. That was all it took. His lips parted in an orgasmic cry–
–and her knee slammed into his groin, popping his left nut like a grape.
By the time her knee came up again and turned his other gonad to goo, the poor Houndoom had already passed out. And so he was unable to enjoy it when, a moment later, he finally exploded into his opponent’s paw...and unable to stop it as the Arcanine licked his unborn children off her fingers.
Dragonite (F) vs. Aggron (M)
“Holy shit!” screeched the Aggron.
“Huh? You see?” The Dragonite had her arms folded across her bare breasts, scowling down at the steel-type on the ground beneath her. Her foot was planted firmly on his swollen plums, the twin spheres bulging out beneath her massive weight like a pair of balloons about to pop. “You should be resistant to an attack like Outrage, and yet here you are, squealing like a Tepig from a few stomps to the groin.”
“My nuts–!” the Aggron wailed, clutching at her leg.
“Do you get it? ‘Balls of steel’ aren’t really an advantage because they’re still balls.” She shifted her weight forward for emphasis, her opponent’s testicles somehow flattening even further under the tremendous pressure. “And if you swing them in some girl’s face like that, you can expect them to get stomped!”
“Oh Arceus!” the male shrieked, scrabbling even more frantically at the female’s calf as she bore down on his tortured stones.
“Understood?” the Dragonite asked threateningly.
“Oh please yes please PLEASE–”
The Aggron gasped in sudden relief as the female lifted her foot, his gonads reinflating to some approximation of their usual round shape – only to be crushed once more by a vicious Dragon Tail. The male let out a thin high squeal as her tail came crashing down once, twice, thrice between his legs, each time pounding his manhood to the very edge of rupture.
She paused after four, then shrugged. “One more for good measure.”
It was impossible to hear over the mighty thud of the female’s tail striking the ground, but both combatants felt the tiny pop.
The Dragonite’s eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise. “You see?” she growled. “Even more fragile than I thought.”
Lopunny (F) vs. Lucario (M)
She was a stunner alright – tall and leggy, exactly what he’d always liked in her species. Awesome tits, too. And the type advantage meant that it would be an easy battle – a chance to rub elbows (and other parts, hopefully) before he knocked her out.
Of course, that was before she’d punted his balls into his throat a dozen times. Now he was beginning to wonder how he had ever found a Lopunny’s legs sexy.
“Please,” the Lucario gasped, but it was no use: yet another Low Kick came slamming into his groin, his gonads squishing between the female’s toes in an attempt to avoid the brutal impact. The male squealed in agony, twitching on the ground as another wave of nausea exploded forth from his spunkmakers.
The steel-type had long ago stopped trying to counter-attack – now he just tried to curl into the fetal position and protect himself from any more ball-breaking blows. But the Lopunny just grabbed him by the ankles, spread his legs wide, and kept kicking.
“Please–!”
“Shut up and take it like a man,” she growled, delivering another kick for emphasis, “while you still can.”
He was already beyond saving. He had to be. And yet it still came as a surprise when it finally happened.
Splut.
The Lucario’s squeal jumped an octave as his right egg burst, its contents utterly scrambled by the force of the female’s kick. The pain in his groin doubled – something he would have thought impossible a moment earlier.
He looked up in time to see the Lopunny grinning, cocking her leg back for another blow.
Thud.
Thud.
Th-splut.
Alakazam (F) vs. Scyther (M)
Thunk. It was such a small, quiet impact that you might have missed it if not for the Scyther’s reaction.
“Fuck!” the male groaned, doubling over as another wave of nutpain echoed through his gut. It was getting worse with each hit – his testicles felt bruised. He spun to knock aside the implement behind him, but the floating spoon was already gone. “You can’t...this isn’t fair!”
“Oh can’t I?” The Alakazam side-stepped as the bug swiped at her, his arm-blades hitting nothing but air. Her spoon floated casually back into her hand. “You seemed to be enjoying it a minute ago.”
“That was...oh...that was different,” he complained, struggling to maintain focus. “You...nngh...nggha...”
The female was sticking her tongue out at him – which was appropriate, given what she was doing to his cock. The Scyther could have sworn someone was sucking him off, but all that surrounded his maleness was a cool blue glow. His legs trembled as the psychic force caressed his member, the pink length throbbing needfully in the open air.
And then her spoon was back, striking his right nut with a thud that sent his ballbag swinging. “Gah! You bitch!” he spat, fighting the urge to crumple to his knees.
Her teasing smile turned into a icy frown. “Well if you wanted me to be mean, you just had to ask.”
Before the male knew what was happening, his legs had been yanked apart by a strong psychic pull, and the Alakazam’s foot was buried in his groin.
Dragonair (F) vs. Charizard (M)
It was an incredibly stupid mistake. If you’re a fire-type, what should you avoid? THE WATER. And yet the Dragonair had teased him, seduced him, distracted him enough to get him to the edge of the pool – then dragged him under. Now it was all the male could do to keep his tailflame lit and to gasp lungfuls of air when she let him breach the surface.
The female was still down between his legs, where she’d been for the last several minutes: her lips wrapped tightly around his shaft, sucking fervently at his hard red length. The Charizard shuddered with pleasure, resisting the urge to look down at the nubile young female. He was dangerously close – one look at that grinning face, those gorgeous tits, those curvy hips, and he was sure to blow. And then...well...
As if on cue, another uppercut came rocketing into his ballsac, crushing his hefty dragonmakers up into his groin. Even with the knowledge that it was coming, the Charizard couldn’t help but groan, bubbles of air escaping from his mouth as his body instinctively tried to double over. She’d been pounding on his plums ever since he’d entered the water, tenderizing the poor orbs with blow after blow. If was no longer a question of whether she was going to neuter him – the question was when.
Suddenly a hand yanked down on his sac, and the male looked down in surprise and alarm.
That was mistake #2.
He locked eyes with the busty female, watching her lips slide up the length of his dragonhood until the whole length popped free. She gave one long lick along the underside, from base to tip – and he exploded, a mighty spurt of seed clouding the water.
In response the Dragonair tightened her grip around the base of his sac, holding his nuts in place as her other fist came crashing upwards: once, twice–
Pop!
–three times, four times–
Pop!
And a few more times for good measure, why not.
Mesprit (F) vs. Azelf (M) and Uxie (M)
The reasoning had seemed quite sound in the locker room, when the two of them were discussing battle strategy.
“There’s two of us and one of her!” Uxie had said. “And we’re all Psychics – it’s not like she’ll have a type advantage or anything.”
“Exactly.” Azelf nodded. “Even if she manages to surprise one of us, the other can swoop in an take her out.”
It was all very reassuring. But somehow, the two males had failed to note that Mesprit had two hands. Two hands that were currently clamped very, very tightly around two different sets of gonads.
“My nuts!” squealed two abnormally high-pitched voices.
“What’s that, boys?” The female was grinning, but there were beads of sweat on her forehead. 2-on-1 was more difficult, she had to admit – it was tricky to keep hold of just one twitching male, never mind two.
Then again, it was infinitely satisfying to tighten her grip and hear two different voices squealing for mercy, their frantic pleas overlapping each other in a tangled mess of “please” and “oh Arceus” and “they’re gonna pop!”. Or she could alternate squeezes: left, right, squeak, squawk. It was like playing an instrument.
She did that now, arm muscles bulging as she suddenly doubled the pressure on Uxie’s poor plums. The round orbs squished out between her fingers and the male let out a renewed wail, clutching at her closed fist in an attempt to pry it open.
She held the squeeze for a few more seconds, then turned back to Azelf with a smirk. “Now your turn.”
“Oh fuck not my baaaallls!”
Dewott (M) vs. Absol (M)
He’d tried to be reasonable – really, he had. His Absol opponent radiated smugness, but that wasn’t reason enough to hate him. Nor was his refusal to shake hands before the match (even if it was unsportsmanslike). Sucker Punch was a legal move, even to the groin (though it hurt like a motherfucker), and so was Taunt (though, again, following one with the other was rather unsportsmanlike). This was the Underground League, and dirty tactics were a standard part of battle.
No, the Dewott could have looked past all that if the Absol hadn’t literally cock-slapped him while he was down. Now the water-type was seeing red, glaring daggers at his opponent. Not that the Absol seemed to care – the dark-type just watched casually, picking a bit of dirt from one of his claws as the Dewott climbed back to his feet.
“Seriously, this is pathetic.” The disaster Pokemon gave a condescending smile. “Do you want to just give up now? Or would you rather suck me off fi–URK!”
A sudden burst of water pushed the male backwards, his arms windmilling as he tried to keep his balance; another burst struck him square in the chest, knocking him on to his back with a thud. The Absol’s groan of pain jumped sharply in pitch as another blast hit home squarely between his legs, his furry sac pounded by a focused Water Gun. The male tried to double up and protect himself, but the Dewott’s foot was already on his chest, pushing him back down to the dirt.
“Will you please,” intoned the Dewott testily, “just shut. up?!”
The Absol opened his mouth in response, but any reply was drowned out by the deluge of water that came pounding down on his poor plums, his testicles crushed beneath the full onslaught of a point-blank Hydro Pump. The male seemed frozen for a long moment, every muscle tight with agony – then suddenly he was animated again, writhing in place, head-sickle scratching lines in the dirt. A keening wail issued from the back of his throat, sounding increasingly desperate until his eyes rolled back into his head and he passed out.
Later on the Dewott would admit that yes, he probably could have used a bit less force, and maybe then the Absol would still have a nut to his name. But seriously, what a dick.
Derpy (F) and Doctor Whooves (M)
The time-and-space-ship gave another metallic groan, even louder than before. Derpy let out an involuntary “eep!” as the floor suddenly shifted beneath her, her wings flaring to help maintain her balance. “Um...are you sure you know how to fly this thing?” she asked, a note of concern in her voice.
“Of course! I know precisely what I’m doing.” Doctor Whooves galloped from one side of the console to the other, rearing to kick a switch and stumbling as the floor shifted again. “Maybe. Probably.” He paused and looked at her. “Ever flown a TARDIS?”
The mailmare started to reply, but was interrupted as the entire room suddenly lurched sideways, sending both passengers tumbling to the ground. The Doctor rolled and hit the wall with an oof, the air driven from his lungs by the impact – only for Derpy to come crashing into him a moment later. The male’s eyes shot open in shock and surprise as the pegasus landed squarely between his legs, her bulk slamming forcefully into his groin and coming to a stop with his coltmakers pinned beneath her weight.
It was a long moment before the stallion found his voice...and when he did, it was a bit higher-pitched than usual. “Derpy!” squeaked the stallion. His forehooves moved instinctively to clutch his flattened plums, but they were still trapped beneath the female’s rear.
It took Derpy a moment to gather her wits – the female had to shake her head to clear her double vision – but once she realized what she was sitting on, she quickly scrambled to her hooves. “Ahh!” she exclaimed, stumbling as she rose, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”
Doctor Whooves let out a groan as his companion rose, his aching balls reinflating to their usual healthy shape – but the relief was short-lived. Both the Time Lord’s hearts skipped a beat as the mare’s hoof came down squarely in the center of his sac, his jewels bulging out to either side in an attempt to escape the awful pressure. An instant later, that weight was gone – but then a different hoof came thundering down, catching just his left nut this time and squashing it carelessly into the floor. The stallion’s voice climbed yet another octave, his gut a pit of nausea, his body curling around the female’s leg until she finally stepped away.
To the pegasus, it had only been a split-second – a misstep; something round and squishy underhoof – but given the way the Doctor was crumpled on the ground clutching himself, it looked like the afternoon’s adventure might be cancelled. “I didn’t break anything, did I?” she asked sheepishly.
From the fetal position, Doctor Whooves just moaned.
It was an incredibly stupid mistake. If you’re a fire-type, what should you avoid? THE WATER. And yet the Dragonair had teased him, seduced him, distracted him enough to get him to the edge of the pool – then dragged him under. Now it was all the male could do to keep his tailflame lit and to gasp lungfuls of air when she let him breach the surface.
The female was still down between his legs, where she’d been for the last several minutes: her lips wrapped tightly around his shaft, sucking fervently at his hard red length. The Charizard shuddered with pleasure, resisting the urge to look down at the nubile young female. He was dangerously close – one look at that grinning face, those gorgeous tits, those curvy hips, and he was sure to blow. And then...well...
As if on cue, another uppercut came rocketing into his ballsac, crushing his hefty dragonmakers up into his groin. Even with the knowledge that it was coming, the Charizard couldn’t help but groan, bubbles of air escaping from his mouth as his body instinctively tried to double over. She’d been pounding on his plums ever since he’d entered the water, tenderizing the poor orbs with blow after blow. If was no longer a question of whether she was going to neuter him – the question was when.
Suddenly a hand yanked down on his sac, and the male looked down in surprise and alarm.
That was mistake #2.
He locked eyes with the busty female, watching her lips slide up the length of his dragonhood until the whole length popped free. She gave one long lick along the underside, from base to tip – and he exploded, a mighty spurt of seed clouding the water.
In response the Dragonair tightened her grip around the base of his sac, holding his nuts in place as her other fist came crashing upwards: once, twice–
Pop!
–three times, four times–
Pop!
And a few more times for good measure, why not.
Mesprit (F) vs. Azelf (M) and Uxie (M)
The reasoning had seemed quite sound in the locker room, when the two of them were discussing battle strategy.
“There’s two of us and one of her!” Uxie had said. “And we’re all Psychics – it’s not like she’ll have a type advantage or anything.”
“Exactly.” Azelf nodded. “Even if she manages to surprise one of us, the other can swoop in an take her out.”
It was all very reassuring. But somehow, the two males had failed to note that Mesprit had two hands. Two hands that were currently clamped very, very tightly around two different sets of gonads.
“My nuts!” squealed two abnormally high-pitched voices.
“What’s that, boys?” The female was grinning, but there were beads of sweat on her forehead. 2-on-1 was more difficult, she had to admit – it was tricky to keep hold of just one twitching male, never mind two.
Then again, it was infinitely satisfying to tighten her grip and hear two different voices squealing for mercy, their frantic pleas overlapping each other in a tangled mess of “please” and “oh Arceus” and “they’re gonna pop!”. Or she could alternate squeezes: left, right, squeak, squawk. It was like playing an instrument.
She did that now, arm muscles bulging as she suddenly doubled the pressure on Uxie’s poor plums. The round orbs squished out between her fingers and the male let out a renewed wail, clutching at her closed fist in an attempt to pry it open.
She held the squeeze for a few more seconds, then turned back to Azelf with a smirk. “Now your turn.”
“Oh fuck not my baaaallls!”
Dewott (M) vs. Absol (M)
He’d tried to be reasonable – really, he had. His Absol opponent radiated smugness, but that wasn’t reason enough to hate him. Nor was his refusal to shake hands before the match (even if it was unsportsmanslike). Sucker Punch was a legal move, even to the groin (though it hurt like a motherfucker), and so was Taunt (though, again, following one with the other was rather unsportsmanlike). This was the Underground League, and dirty tactics were a standard part of battle.
No, the Dewott could have looked past all that if the Absol hadn’t literally cock-slapped him while he was down. Now the water-type was seeing red, glaring daggers at his opponent. Not that the Absol seemed to care – the dark-type just watched casually, picking a bit of dirt from one of his claws as the Dewott climbed back to his feet.
“Seriously, this is pathetic.” The disaster Pokemon gave a condescending smile. “Do you want to just give up now? Or would you rather suck me off fi–URK!”
A sudden burst of water pushed the male backwards, his arms windmilling as he tried to keep his balance; another burst struck him square in the chest, knocking him on to his back with a thud. The Absol’s groan of pain jumped sharply in pitch as another blast hit home squarely between his legs, his furry sac pounded by a focused Water Gun. The male tried to double up and protect himself, but the Dewott’s foot was already on his chest, pushing him back down to the dirt.
“Will you please,” intoned the Dewott testily, “just shut. up?!”
The Absol opened his mouth in response, but any reply was drowned out by the deluge of water that came pounding down on his poor plums, his testicles crushed beneath the full onslaught of a point-blank Hydro Pump. The male seemed frozen for a long moment, every muscle tight with agony – then suddenly he was animated again, writhing in place, head-sickle scratching lines in the dirt. A keening wail issued from the back of his throat, sounding increasingly desperate until his eyes rolled back into his head and he passed out.
Later on the Dewott would admit that yes, he probably could have used a bit less force, and maybe then the Absol would still have a nut to his name. But seriously, what a dick.
Derpy (F) and Doctor Whooves (M)
The time-and-space-ship gave another metallic groan, even louder than before. Derpy let out an involuntary “eep!” as the floor suddenly shifted beneath her, her wings flaring to help maintain her balance. “Um...are you sure you know how to fly this thing?” she asked, a note of concern in her voice.
“Of course! I know precisely what I’m doing.” Doctor Whooves galloped from one side of the console to the other, rearing to kick a switch and stumbling as the floor shifted again. “Maybe. Probably.” He paused and looked at her. “Ever flown a TARDIS?”
The mailmare started to reply, but was interrupted as the entire room suddenly lurched sideways, sending both passengers tumbling to the ground. The Doctor rolled and hit the wall with an oof, the air driven from his lungs by the impact – only for Derpy to come crashing into him a moment later. The male’s eyes shot open in shock and surprise as the pegasus landed squarely between his legs, her bulk slamming forcefully into his groin and coming to a stop with his coltmakers pinned beneath her weight.
It was a long moment before the stallion found his voice...and when he did, it was a bit higher-pitched than usual. “Derpy!” squeaked the stallion. His forehooves moved instinctively to clutch his flattened plums, but they were still trapped beneath the female’s rear.
It took Derpy a moment to gather her wits – the female had to shake her head to clear her double vision – but once she realized what she was sitting on, she quickly scrambled to her hooves. “Ahh!” she exclaimed, stumbling as she rose, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”
Doctor Whooves let out a groan as his companion rose, his aching balls reinflating to their usual healthy shape – but the relief was short-lived. Both the Time Lord’s hearts skipped a beat as the mare’s hoof came down squarely in the center of his sac, his jewels bulging out to either side in an attempt to escape the awful pressure. An instant later, that weight was gone – but then a different hoof came thundering down, catching just his left nut this time and squashing it carelessly into the floor. The stallion’s voice climbed yet another octave, his gut a pit of nausea, his body curling around the female’s leg until she finally stepped away.
To the pegasus, it had only been a split-second – a misstep; something round and squishy underhoof – but given the way the Doctor was crumpled on the ground clutching himself, it looked like the afternoon’s adventure might be cancelled. “I didn’t break anything, did I?” she asked sheepishly.
From the fetal position, Doctor Whooves just moaned.
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