Thursday, September 6, 2007

I Shouldn't Have Followed Karen . . .


By CbtB

I opened my car door and went to follow her. She was an impressive woman by anyone's standards. About 5'7”, wavy dark hair, and a medium frame rounded in the appropriate spots. She was no wimp; I speculated on this from the hint of steel in her eyes when we met.

Her name is Karen. I saw her heading up to her apartment. I'd told her that I'd meet her there later. Lucky of me to have such a hot new coworker!

I hopped out of my car and followed her. She took the steps in front with ease, making me wonder about how often she worked out.

As she was keying in to the complex, I tapped her on the shoulder. I didn't even see her turn. A sharp crack and I was on my back looking up at her. She seemed ready to stomp the shit out of me. That's when the pain hit.

My balls were smashed. There must be nothing left at all. I couldn't breath. I don't even know if she kneed me or kicked me. I felt like vomiting, and dry heaved instead.

Karen bent over my crushed form. “Andy, god, it's you! I thought you were a mugger. Don't ever do that again! Oh, geezus, are you gonna be OK?”

Her hand went out. I saw it lightly touch my battered crotch. I felt new pain shooting through my throbbing nads. “Owwww!” I croaked rather pitifully.

“Geez, let me get you inside.” I'd wanted to get inside her apartment (and then inside her) but not this way! I had to lean on her heavily on the way in, and each step had my mauled nuts rubbing painfully against my legs.

Karen had me lie down on her sofa. She went and got an ice pack together and pushed it into my groin with a little too much force. I could tell she was swinging back to being pissed at me again. The sight of her ripe body in her “do-me” office outfit was trying to coax my limp rod to life.

She sat down at the end of the couch next to my head. She asked me why I had followed her. I was too embarrassed to tell her the truth, I skirted the issue. She took my head and held it in her lap, then leaned over me slightly, looking me right in the eyes.

Karen's magnificent tits were touching my head, and I felt like a little kid. She told me she thought I was attracted to her, and asked if that could have been the reason. I started to reply, when she told me to shake my head yes or no.

The motion caused my face to rub the underside of her left breast. Karen said that's what she thought, but she was still a bit pissed at me for scaring her so badly. I groaned out that it wasn't my intent to scare her at all.

Karen noted I was still in considerable distress. She asked me if I needed a doctor or anything, or whether she should call an ambulance. She rolled the ice pack over as she said this, saying it wasn't in the right spot. Well, it was, and the twisting around on my mashed nuts just made it worse.

I told her I would be OK and tried to put a brave face on it. Karen said let me see what I've done to you. I told her no, that I didn't feel it was a good idea for me to disrobe. Karen quickly said why not in a louder, more aggressive tone. She said I was planning on trying to get into her pants first.

I reluctantly complied. She unbelted, unbuttoned, and unzipped me pulling jeans and ice pack southwards. That in and of itself caused some more pain. She'd bashed my dick sack but good! Karen pulled my underwear down before I could think about it any further.

“Geez, they're kinda reddish purple. Is that the normal color a man's things are?” she asked. I began to get the impression that she wasn't too familiar with the male anatomy. I looked at them myself; seeing the angry red color I told her no they were far from normal right now.

Karen grasped the base of my scrotum and pulled it down, elongating my bag. I cried out in pain. Karen asked what was wrong, she wanted to look at my testicles more closely. I explained (in a rather smart ass way) that pulling the sack moves the nuts, too.

After saying this, I realized I was not in a good position to further piss her off. Karen grabbed my dangling nuts with both hands and pulled down away from my crotch. I thought she was going to tear them off. I tried to scream, but only a high pitched mewling sound came out.

Karen warned me that she would crush my nuts into paste if I pissed her off any more. I tried to sit up and she cupped her hand behind my genitals in her warm palm. Then she smacked her other hand into her palm, a hard fist bashing my tortured nuts three times in rapid fire.

I had no strength left in my body. I lay panting and crying on her couch. Karen said I was such a pussy, and that men bandied that term about but were so fucking frail themselves. I knew whatever was coming was not good.

Karen formed a circle with thumb and forefingers around my bag and squeezed my testicles to the bottom, eliminating any spare room I had. My inflamed testicles had been trying to hide, retracting into my groin like frightened bugs. I think she wanted to exterminate them, and worried some more.

She said, “Look, I can whip your ass with one finger.” I didn't see her do it but heard a tell tale pop from my crotch. My left testicle was on fire! I dry heaved again, rolling my torso in place on her couch. I could see she was preparing to flick her finger into my unguarded right nut.

The knowledge did me no good as her thwacking felt like it was beating the sperm out of my nut by sheer force. Karen stretched my sack straight up from my body. I could plainly see both swollen nuts tightly compacted into the base of my sack, but stretched maybe five inches above my prone dick.

Karen gripped my sack tighter still. She said, “I'll see you when you come around” and promptly smashed the heel of her hand down onto my nuts. I convulsed in place, feeling as if my testicles had literally been crushed flat, and passed out . . .

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