My life was busted wide open.
My life was altered drastically when I responded to an ad in the alternative lifestyles section of the personals in the city’s local paper. I was a college junior at the time and was just beginning to actively explore the fetishes that had festered inside my imagination for as long as I remembered. The ad was for male sparring partners for female kick boxers -- no experience necessary. I shivered with excitement at the thought of some woman kicking my ass in the ring, and quickly called for more information.
I discovered that the ad was run by one of the less respectable bars downtown for an event they were planning for their weekly BDSM night. I was just learning what BDSM was and was shocked to learn that a bar had a night dedicated to it.
I was your average preppy, beer-drinking guy at one of the more elite private colleges in town; I couldn’t go to a BDSM bar, could I? With little hesitation, I told them I would be there on Monday afternoon.
I showed up in jeans and a polo, figuring that I shouldn’t overdress. It was soon apparent that I had anyway. I was led back to a dark office where there was a large bald man with potbelly behind the desk and a sexy 40-year-old woman in tight jeans and a tight black t-shirt leaning against a table to the side. As soon as I entered and sat down, she smiled at me, clearly amused about something.
“Do you know what you are doing sweetie?” she asked. I blushed bright red, a habit I haven’t totally cured myself of to this day, and started to mumble something about the ad and then began rambling about how exciting it would be to be in a ring with a female kick-boxer. That’s when she first laughed at me.
“You understand there are no rules and you could, no, you will get hurt,” she said once she stopped laughing. I nodded. She shrugged, and then said, “Take off your clothes.” I stared at her blankly.
“You want to fight in your underwear, in front of a crowd of people, and you have problems taking off your clothes now?” she sneered.
I slowly got to me feet. It wasn’t that I was ashamed of my appearance or my body. I am 6’2” with an athletic build, strawberry blond hair and am usually considered to be attractive, with an ‘all American kid’ look to me. I was in good shape at the time as I kept pretty busy, and managed to work out pretty frequently. I was proud of my body; it just felt weird to strip in front of these people. All the same, I was soon standing there in my boxers and was gratified to see a fleeting look of approval on the woman’s face.
She stepped forward so that she was right in front of me, and looked up into my eyes. “OK, here are the rules, there are none. The girl can do whatever she wants to you in the ring, and vice-versa. The fight is only over when both parties say so. Do you understand?” I nodded dumbly. “Good,” she replied, “You get free drinks for the night, and you have to sign a form waiving us from any liability. Do you want to do it?”
I managed to get me vocal cords working long enough for a “Yes please.”
She smiled, and said, “OK, if you can stay standing for one minute right here right now with me, you got the job. Deal?”
I nodded nervously and never even saw her knee rushing towards my groin. Lights seemed to explode behind my eyes. I desperately wanted to fall to my knees, but some part of me kept me on my feet. I stumbled forward and grasped the desk with both hands as the pain quickly rushed up my body in waves. I groaned, as the agony seemed to intensify in my stomach, before eventually evening off. I straightened slightly, regaining awareness of my surroundings and the fact that I was completely vulnerable to the woman responsible for causing me this overwhelming pain. Before I could protect myself, I felt one of her hands reach between my legs from behind and grab my throbbing balls through my boxers.
I reached down to grab her hand as it began to squeeze. I clutched and pulled, but with her strong grip and the new waves of pain washing over me, I only diminished the pressure slightly. After a few moments as the pain intensified under her grip, I let my head rest against the desk, reached down with my other hand and eventually managed to pry her hand loose. She reached with the other, but I was able to ward her off, and protect myself with my hands. After a few failed attempts, her hands pulled away and before the sigh of relief left my body, I felt her knee plough into my hands protecting my balls. Even with the protection of my hands, I didn’t think my balls could take much more. The knee made me jump forward, still clutching myself as my face and shoulders slid across the desk. Another blow hit, then another; each pushing me across the desk. The next blow made my knees buckle and I seemed to slide in slow motion off the desk, onto my knees and then onto my side on the floor.
“Time?” I heard her voice call above me.
“Minute, ten” I heard the man reply.
“Not bad,” my tormenter commented. “You’ve got the gig kid.”
It felt like the voices were a thousand miles away. The waves of pain accompanied with smaller waves of nausea were washing over me dulling everything out. Gradually, the crescendo of pain receded to an intense throbbing. I slowly raised myself to the chair, collapsing in it and looking up at my tormentor through a haze of pain.
She smiled sweetly at me -- the bitch. The man then pushed a piece of paper across the desk at me and grunted: “Sign here.” The woman handed me the pen and I signed. It never occurred to me to read the agreement, ask any questions, or do anything but agree with whatever they said.
“Be here at on Thursday. You will be fighting Kayla that night. I suggest you, umm, be more on guard with her or you won’t last a minute.”
I grinned sheepishly and reached for my clothes. She bent down so that her head was level with mine and whispered in my ear, “And if you don’t show up, I will come to your apartment, beat the shit out of you and humiliate you in front of your friends and neighbors.
I just nodded at her in fear and began getting dressed. Two things surprised me, one that I had a raging hard on (which made my tormentor smirk) and that the pain in my balls had receded rapidly. Don’t get me wrong; they hurt. Walking was uncomfortable. But it was an ache, where five minutes ago it was roaring agony. I limped home.
I showed up at the club at nine sharp after deciding not to go at least a dozen times throughout the day. My balls were recovered, finally, and I had been studying self-defense for the last three days. Three days of reading about moves and practicing in my bedroom – I should be in good shape. Right?
The bar filled up quickly and I stood out like a sore thumb. Everybody was in leather, spandex or PVC, most of it black. There were women wearing little but a collar with a leash attached, pulled around by men. And there were scantily clad men with leashes pulled by women and/or men. I was wearing jeans and a navy blue polo. I was in college -- I always wore jeans. I got lots of funny looks from men and women alike. Some were amused, some seemed angry, and some looked at me like they were a wolf and I a rabbit. I took advantage of the free drinks, but was careful not to get drunk. I wanted to calm my nerves enough so I wasn’t shaking, but not impair my senses.
At about 10:30, the woman who had ‘auditioned’ me on Monday came to get me with a big smirk on her face. She brought me to a back room and told me to strip, which I quickly did. I was wearing a new pair of Calvin Klein briefs, the kind that extends down to your thighs, and felt both sexy and silly in them as I sat waiting. She soon returned and told me “They’re ready for you.” I didn’t want to think about who ‘they’ were and got up to follow her. We emerged onto a makeshift ring that they had erected on the stage. The second I walked out, I heard catcalls and whistles from the characters in the bar. They were crowded around the ring, laughing, shouting and pointing at me. I felt like an idiot.
The crowd suddenly hushed and then a number of guys whistled and cheered loudly. I turned around to see my opponent saunter into the ring. She was a gorgeous Latin girl, about 5’4”, maybe 125 lbs with curves you would die for, and straight, raven-black hair. She was wearing, black boots that hugged her curvaceous calves, a short, tight black skirt, and a silver body suit. She smiled at me and waived.
I think my jaw dropped. I forgot about the crowd and everything else. Kayla walked up to me with a big sexy smile on her face. I stood there watching, only just remembering my danger when Kayla got up to me. I was able to turn aside in time to avoid the flying knee. Kayla didn’t pause; she ducked behind me as I was turning to block the kick and pulled my briefs down to my knees from behind.
I gasped and bent down to try to pull them up as the crowd laughed. Kayla promptly shoved my bare ass with her left boot, causing me to stumble forward. I had little balance with my underwear around my knees, but managed to get to the ropes without falling. It was a brief respite. I felt one of Kayla’s hands slide between my legs and grasp onto my balls, twist, pull and squeeze. With her other hand she shoved me further so that I stumbled again and was pressed against the ropes; my head and shoulders protruded from the ring between the third and fourth rope. I couldn’t stand up because of the top rope above my shoulders, or get leverage with my underwear around my knees. Fortunately, Kayla couldn’t get an angle to punch or kick my balls with all my struggling. I think my struggles also diminished the strength of her grip, but it was a small blessing. Kayla had a hell of a grip, and I was already moaning in pain.
To make matters worse, one of the more muscular looking women who were cheering Kayla on took advantage of my face sticking out of the ropes and began slapping me. With a roar of frustration and rage, I somehow managed to tear Kayla’s hand free and then free myself from the ropes.
Again, it was a short-lived victory. As soon as I stood up in the ring and started to turn to face Kayla, my legs were swept out from under me. I fell on my ass and rolled over onto my hands and knees, looking up in time to see Kayla’s right foot flying at my stomach. I absorbed most of the blow with my stomach muscles, only doubling up slightly with the kick. The second kick knocked the wind out of me and I fell onto my side.
I was on the ground in the corner, still dazed by the second kick and had little leverage with my knees still trapped together. There was no way I could protect myself from Kayla’s kicks and pull up my underwear at the same time. Fortunately, Kayla was spending as much time waving at the crowd as she was kicking me. At one point in the struggle, my underwear ended up at my ankles, and I decided to try to get them off instead of back on. At this, I was successful but, in the process, I inadvertently spread my legs enough to give Kayla her first clean shot at her favorite target, my balls.
It wasn’t a full kick. She didn’t have time to really cock her leg back or get her weight into it, but it was deadly accurate. I felt like my balls shot a bolt of electricity through my body and I jerked upright. Fortunately, my reactions enabled me to grab onto her leg. Probably because she left it lingering in my groin, enjoying the effect it had on me. Once she determined she couldn’t get away from my grasp, she tried to stomp down on or grind her foot into my balls with the trapped leg. I was able to protect myself as I clung onto her, waiting for the worst of the agony to abate.
Once I was able to will myself to act through the pain, I used my strength and size to lift Kayla and throw her to the ground. I quickly rolled on top of her and after a struggle, pinned her to the ground. Once I had her pinned, I had no idea what to do next. I couldn’t hit her or hurt her -- she was beautiful. Kayla saw my hesitation, managed to get a knee free and drove it up into my dangling balls, and then again.
I fell off her rolling across the matt, holding myself and trying to get away from her. She was celebrating again – circling me and pumping her right arm in the air as the crowd cheered her on. I got to the corner, and pulled myself up. As soon as I was standing, Kayla launched another attack. I was guarding my balls, so she ripped a kick around at my face, catching me off guard. It sent me flailing back against the corner, my back slamming against it. The next thing I knew her shoulder was in my stomach, she grabbed my balls with her left hand, and started punching them with her right. I had no leverage, my head was woozy from the beating I was taking and I was weak with pain.
I tried to shove her away, pound on her back, anything. With her left hand holding my balls in place, each punch made my knees buckle. Soon I was reduced to begging for her to stop, crying out and jerking uncontrollably with each punch. She was supporting much of my weight, my arms doing little more than holding on to her and my legs felt like jelly. After what seemed an eternity, she flexed her legs, and drove me hard back into the corner. As my body was thrust back into the corner, she stepped up, grabbed each arm and wrapped it into the ropes. I didn’t fight. Hell, I helped her as best I could; figuring mercy was my only hope.
Once she had me immobilized, she stepped back and appraised me. Although I knew I could untangle myself from the ropes, I also knew that Kayla could leisurely unleash at least three vicious kicks to my balls before I was free. The weird thing is that despite all the abuse I could feel my cock stirring under the attention of this gorgeous vixen. She saw the movement and grinned like a kid who found a new toy. She stepped forward and forced my jaw open with her left hand to force as much of my own underwear as she could into my mouth with the other.
She then reached down with her right hand and squeezed my battered balls, causing me to moan in pain.
She grinned even wider and practically purred, “Oh, I’m sorry, does that hurt? Does this feel better?” She began to softly caress my now rapidly growing cock. My moans turned from pain to pleasure as she watched me like a cat watches a cornered mouse. Her hands glided over my balls, my cock, my chest, barely touching me and leaving lingering impressions pulsing behind them. When it was clear I was getting very excited, she reached down and grabbed both balls with all her might and began twisting them. I tried to scream through my underwear. There was nothing diminishing her grip this time, and my balls were already very sore.
Kayla leaned forward and whispered in my ear as she continued to twist, “Don’t even think of moving your hands or it will be much worse.” I immediately clenched onto the ropes with my hands as I had already started pulling loose. “Much better” she whispered in my ears as she bit my neck softly and rubbed her body against mine – all the while twisting, pulling and squeezing my balls. My hands were white as a sheet and the sweat was poring down my face as I held on for dear life.
Long after I thought I couldn’t hold myself any more, Kayla finally let go. I collapsed against the ropes with a sob. My hands, arms, shoulders and, of course balls, were killing me. She reached down, took my now soft cock in her hands and murmured, “Oh now its all soft.” and began caressing it again. I groaned in agony even though my cock slowly responded.
As the pain receded, her magic touch eventually had me on the brink of ecstasy again. She kept me on the verge of orgasm constantly reminding me “not to make a mess.” When it was clear that I was starting to lose control, she yanked the underwear from my mouth, snapping again, “you better not make a mess bitch.”
The pain and pleasure had long since overloaded my circuits and I immediately began babbling. “Please, I can’t help it, I have to. Please, I’ll do any thing.” Kayla didn’t look happy and stepped back glaring at me. “Well I can help it bitch” she snapped and brought her knee flying up toward my groin with all her weight behind it.
I let out a strangled cry, helplessly watching her step back and begin to deliver another. The pain was shooting through my body as I desperately pulled at my arms and watched the next blow approach in slow motion before exploding into my swollen balls hanging below my still raging hard dick. My cry turned to a gurgle as I felt my arms slowly coming free. Kayla wasn’t done though, she kept her knee bent and before it returned to its vertical position, it began accelerating again towards its favorite target. The knee connected and continued to the corner of the ring behind me, pinning me there. Kayla put all her strength and weight behind it trying to keep driving it upwards. My arms had finally gotten loose and I slumped forward onto Kayla, most of my weight being supported by her right thigh under my groin. I was sobbing and begging incoherently.
As she pulled her leg away, and stepped back, I slowly slumped down her body to fall between her feet, my face smacking against the canvas. The pain was intense. I felt immobilized and separated by a great a distance from everything around me. I heard her voice above me, “Kiss my boot, you bitch.” I kissed her boot almost blindly through the haze.
“Lick it like the dog you are.” I licked it. I licked for all I was worth, as long as I was licking it, neither it nor the knee attached to it could be torturing my balls. She was yelling things to the crowd along the lines of, ‘look at the little boot licker.” She leaned down and spit on my face. I felt it hit my cheek and was unresponsive. “Thank me bitch” Kayla crowed. I thanked her and Kayla then ground the spit into my face with the bottom of her boot. I did nothing, until Kayla ordered me to now lick the bottom of her boot. I licked it.
The next thing I knew Kayla had grabbed my head by the hair and was trying to pull me behind her, yelling, “Come on bitch, on all fours.” I struggled to obey, trying to keep up as she dragged me behind her around the ring. As we started making the tour, somebody threw Kayla what turned out to be a riding crop, which she promptly started using to beat my ass with and yelling to the crowd. Every once and a while the crop would hit me square on the balls, causing me to double over and drive my face into the floor.
After a few circles, Kayla stopped, grabbed me by the hair again, pulled me to the side of the ring and commanded me to lie on my back, legs spread. I followed her commands as quickly as I could, scared to find out what was next.
She placed her right foot on top of my balls and began strapping on a large, black dildo. I started to beg as my eyes widened at the site of the dildo. Kayla leaned forward and began grinding her boot into my throbbing balls and snapped, “Shut up you stupid slut.” I thought I was going to pass out. Every twist of the heel, movement of weight, made me cry out in agony.
When Kayla removed her foot from my balls, she swatted the sensitive skin between my ass and thighs with the crop and commanded me to slide back so my head hung over the side of the stage. I squirmed back slowly, trying to suppress the sobs that were wracking my body and looked above me to see that my head was now crotch level with the crowd. The next thing I knew, I felt someone grab my hair and shove my face into the black leather clad ass of a seemingly young woman. At first I didn’t mind, it was a well-formed ass. That was until it was pressed against me so hard I couldn’t breathe. I began to flail my arms and then felt a hard swat on my balls with the flogger. I let out a loud moan; muffled by the firm ass that was smothering me.
I started to fell myself blacking out and started to get a little desperate, when I heard Kayla’s voice bark, “Enough, don’t make him pass out.” I was released as I gasped for air, only to quickly close my mouth and turn my head as I saw a large, dick being swung at me by a pair of hips and a large hairy hand. That is when I felt Kayla’s lubricated dildo press coldly against my anus. I couldn’t move to look, but I clenched for all I was worth.
“Don’t even think about it you stupid slut.” I heard Kayla’s voice say and then felt her grab my swollen balls roughly and squeeze. I let out a gurgled scream and tried to relax my ass. I soon felt like I was being split in half as Kayla slowly penetrated my virgin ass. I looked up to see, now three cocks around my face, each being pumped with the owner’s hands and promptly closed my eyes again.
I moaned in agony as Kayla penetrated me fully and then began pumping in and out of my strained ass. I was partially delirious and barely noticed the masculine moans above me as first one, then two, then three wet deposits covered my face. Soon after that, the rape of my ass stopped and I felt myself being dragged by my feet off the stage back to the small room I was in before. Two pairs of hands were on both ankles, and I seemed to move along at a decent pace.
Once I was in the room, I felt my head placed in someone lap and my face being washed by a warm cloth. After a minute, I opened my eyes and looked up to see Kayla looking down at me with a drunken look on her face. “You did well slut.” She murmured. I smiled through my haze, rolled over using her thigh as a pillow and put my right arm around her waist. I gradually faded the rest of the way into unconsciousness.