He was just some drunken asshole, but his unrelenting comments and interruptions got to Kelley. She was here at the Stumble Inn celebrating her friend’s birthday, not looking for companionship. The anonymous drunk was attracted to her large breasts, shown quite clearly through her white sleeveless top. Hey, it was summer and she could wear whatever she wanted.
Now she turned towards him, determined to end the abuse by giving him a little of her own. She stepped one pace to her left to place him directly in front of her, then launched the last inch of beer in her glass directly into his eyes. It worked perfectly; he stood up straight and raised his hands to his face. Kelley stepped forward with her left leg and brought her right foot back for a full swing. She concentrated her aim at the bottom of his zipper as she kicked her right shin up and through his crotch.
Kelley's shin fit snug in between his legs. She caught both balls, leaving them no escape. She connected so hard and fast that I swear I saw his feet leave the ground. He was in shock; mouth agape, no words, no scream, just the hoarse whisper of air escaping his lungs. He tried to fall forward but Kelley caught his shoulders and held him up.
Kelley took his beer mug and placed both his and her glass on the bar. I thought it was all over but she grabbed his shirt and lectured him as he tried to inhale. As she pushed him from side to side, his feet spread to regain his balance and his hands left his bruised balls to hold on to her arms. Big mistake. Kelley was waiting for this and slammed her knee into his balls as hard as I ever have seen anybody get kneed. She again brought her leg behind her, building speed and looking down, she concentrated on her target. He went up on his toes and staggered a few steps but she kept him standing. Then she let go of his shirt and stepped back.
The drunk was hunched over forward, cupping his balls and babbling incoherently. He moved slightly left and right searching for his balance, while his head hung down looking at the floor. Kelley began punching his face, closed-fist uppercuts to his eyes. It worked perfectly.
As he lifted his hands to ward off the blows, she went for his exposed balls. He doubled over holding himself and she would hold his shoulders to help him remain standing. This went on for an eternity. Punches to his face. A foot to his balls. Kelley's foot actually went between his legs as he hunched over and the top of her foot, the bottom of her leg curved nicely to smash his testicles.
I kept wishing him to go down, end the cycle, and he finally did. She tried to catch him, but he was much larger then Kelley and down he went to all fours - like a dog. There was a collective gasp through out the bar and I realized that we were all captivated by the spectacle. Then somebody began clapping their hands and we all applauded shouting "Yeah", "Alright"...
Kelley turned to see everybody cheering and self-consciously blushed but did not disappear into the crowd. As the noise settled down someone said, "Look, he's getting away". And sure enough, he was crawling away between two tables. Kelley took a couple of steps after him, planted her left leg and swung her right foot between his thighs from behind. Both of his knees lifted off of the floor as what remained of his manhood was again flattened against his abdomen. He curled into a fetal ball under one of the tables and rocked slowly to and fro.
Kelley later explained to her friends, next to me at the bar, how she had several brothers both older and younger than her. As she grew up with them and their friends, she learned how to keep up the pressure until she was sure that they couldn't fight back. She said that she preferred to grab balls, rather than to kick them, as she could then increase or decrease the abuse at will, talking to her foe as he submitted... and he always submitted.