The story you are about to read is a work of fiction—although I wish it wasn’t. As said on the TV show Crank Yankers, “the names have not been changed…screw the innocent.” Of course, if my girlfriend gets mad, maybe she’ll kick me in the nuts.
I was at my old college (I graduated last year), visiting my girlfriend. We were sitting in her apartment’s living room area, watching a game. It is NHL season, and we were watching my hockey favorite team, the NY Rangers, play. They really suck, so they were getting their asses kicked as usual. Needless to say, this game was not putting me in a good mood.
Seeing that I was not happy with my team, she decided to show me some bridesmaid’s dresses she was looking at, since she was going to be in a wedding soon. I was just watching sports and I’m not happy, so I definitely didn’t want to look at this stuff now.
“Uh…Honey, Sweetie, Baby…I think you should put this away,” I said, as calmly as I could. She just looked at me, the look on her face telling me that she was horribly insulted. She answered, “Why? Don’t you wanna help me pick a dress?”
I did my best to contain many possible sarcastic answers, but what came out was worse. I said, “Hell no, I don’t wanna look at this shit. I’m watchin’ the game.”
“Why are you acting like an asshole?” she asked.
I was not in the mood to argue but I was pissed off, so I was saying whatever I wanted, regardless of her feelings. “I didn’t come here to look at those stupid fuckin dresses. Leave me alone with that shit!” There! I said what I wanted to say. However, she was less than pleased, and she got up off the couch, tears in her eyes.
Her voice dropped to a whisper and she said, “Fuck you.” Then she quietly walked into her bedroom and closed the door. I think I heard her lock it, too.
My mind began to race, and I thought many thoughts at once, “Good. I won. I was sick of arguing anyway. I’ll just sit here and watch the game without her. I didn’t come all this way to fight with her, I came to…” My thoughts were interrupted by something… I felt really, really bad for traveling almost three hours to watch hockey and yell at her.
I got up off the couch and attempted to open the door. It was locked, so I knocked on the door, saying, “Baby, I’m sorry. Open the door, please.”
She didn’t open it and instead replied, “Go sit your ass on the couch.” I didn’t say anything, because I knew I didn’t deserve to talk to her for a little while. So, I sat on the couch and waiting a while. Out of the blue, I heard the door unlock.
I heard from the other side of the door, “Come in and talk to me.” Good! I’d get to talk to her and tell her I didn’t mean what I said, and most importantly that I was sorry. I got up off the couch and went to her door, but when I opened it, I didn’t find her sitting down, feeling sorry for herself. She was standing by her bed, seemingly staring a hole through me as I entered her room. And she had apparently changed her clothes, too. She went from sweat pants and a big baggy t-shirt to a very short black miniskirt, a low-cut, long sleeved black top with criss-crosses across her cleavage, black thigh high stockings, and shiny black platform pumps. She was about eight or nine inches shorter than me, but with those shoes, she could almost look me in the eye.
“What the fuck is going on,” I thought to myself. Although I was confused, I couldn’t keep looking at her and remain unaffected. I looked into her apparently angry eyes, and then my eyes started to make their way down her body. I looked at the side of her breasts through the criss-crosses of her shirt, made my way down her sexy body to her waist where the skirt started, gazed at her upper thighs where her skirt ended and stockings began, down her powerful but sexy legs to the bottom, where her high heels were. She looked so arousing, and it didn’t take long before my dick was as hard as a rock. As turned on as I was, I still didn’t know what was going on. Why is she rewarding me for being such a dickhead?
The confusion must have been all over my face, because she made her way slowly to me, sauntering confidently. She took my hand and gently pulled me into her room, closing the door behind me. My girlfriend led me farther inside and pushed my back up against a wall. She locked her eyes onto mine, her expression still one of fiery wrath. She said in a quiet voice, “You’ve been a complete asshole today. You need to be punished and trained how to treat me.” She knows I’m into ballbusting (she busted me many, MANY times in the year and four months we’ve been together), so maybe she was going to tease me, thinking I was going to receive a beating and withhold it. She wrapped her hands around the back of my neck and pulled me forward…into a hug. She held me tight, telling me she loved me and didn’t want to fight with me. What the fuck is going on??
My girlfriend backed from her hug with her hands still on my neck, and suddenly drove her knee roughly between my legs, lifting me off the floor slightly with the impact. I let out the most cowardly groan in my life’s history and fell to the floor like a rock. I landed on my knees, my hands clutching my aching balls and I was hunched over with my head touching the floor in front of me. I felt her foot underneath my shoulder, and she tapped me gently to get me to straighten up a little so she could kick me again. Since it is rare that I get to see my girlfriend and even rarer than she wears sexy clothes and busts me, I figured I’d do as commanded and take at least one more shot. She bent down in front of me, pulling hands off my crotch and held them over my head so I couldn’t protect myself. She must have been still harboring some of anger towards me, because she pulled her right foot back, and let it fly forward at an incredible speed, unleashing the most vicious kick to my groin that she ever had. Another high-pitched squeal escaped my mouth and I went back to fetal position.
While I was down, I felt something rise inside me. It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t sorrow for my apparent weakness. It was…the feeling that I was about to be sick. I was fighting so hard not to throw up that I didn’t realize she still had my hands. She pulled me up straight, and by the time I realized what was happening, her foot wasn’t even a blur between my legs anymore. It was her foot, inside her shoe, making my pants crinkle up and smashing my balls. I thought for sure I was going to throw up, and she must have seen so green in my face, because she let me go. My hands immediately darted to cradle my throbbing nuts, and I felt the vomit push its way to the back of my throat. “I can’t throw up; if I do, she wins,” I thought silently to myself. I pushed it back down my throat, using all the concentration I could. I reached out and grabbed her skirt, attempting to pull myself up so I could stand.
She watched my pathetic effort to stand and said, “You’re either too brave or too stupid for your own good. You should have stayed down, Darrin.” Wait…she never said my name when she busted me. She had to have still been mad…it had to be. However, I kept using her body and clothing to help me to my feet, but when my face got to her breasts; I noticed something I’d never seen before. Her nipples were hard. What the fuck?! It wasn’t cold in here, but she never got turned on just from kicking and kneeing me in the balls.
Whatever the reason, I guess I was taking too long to get all the way up because she moved her hands under my arms and pulled me the rest of the way up. My girlfriend took my hands and moved them to her waist.
“Your hands are not to move,” she said as an order, not a suggestion. I left my hands there as I was told and her hands moved to undo my belt and let my pants fall down to my ankles. While she was working my belt, despite the pain I was in, I got so hard looking at her, thinking about what she had just done, and what she was about to do. I felt like I would cum in my underwear if she even grazed my dick. She quickly fixed the problem by pulling my boxers down, revealing how hard my dick was.
“Who said you could be horny?” she asked, and she rested her hands on my shoulders. I was still wearing my shirt and she grabbed a hold of it at my shoulders, and then slammed her knee into my groin again, not as hard as before, but with aching balls, it doesn’t have to be hard. I went down again, still hard, but desperately hoping she wouldn’t permanently injure me. But to both of our surprise, I got back to my feet almost instantly.
She looked at me, her shock evident, and said coolly, “I guess you need some more.” She wrapped her hands around the back of my neck again and pulled forward, kneeing me gently (compared to earlier). She let her knee fall a few inches then kneed me again, a little harder this time. My girlfriend kneed me in the balls in rapid succession, giving no rest between strikes. After about nine or ten, the pain was too immense and down I went again, silently praying that she would stop.
Stopping, clearly, was not on her agenda. She took a slight step back and said, “You’ll be done after I step on you.” If I’d had ability to speak, I would have given her a smart answer like, “Step on what?” However, she had driven the air—and the fight, for that matter—out of me. I simply sat on my naked ass, my legs spread so she could crush my hard-on with her foot. Usually, the way she does it, she gently eases my dick down to the floor and increases the pressure little by little. Not today. She pushed it roughly to the floor and had all of her weight on it from the beginning. I yelped in pain, and she took that as a cue to start grinding my dick into the floor like she was putting out a cigarette. She released some of the pressure and actually started to let my cock come up…only to be stomped back down to the floor. She stomped down on it about that four or five times then went back to grinding it cruelly. It hurt like hell, and if I was able to speak, I’d have begged her to stop. I couldn’t talk so she kept going.
The way she moved my dick on the floor, the, “special” spot on my dick (that’s usually the target of sexual pleasure when not under her) was rubbing against her carpeting. It wasn’t long before I couldn’t hold it, and I began spurting cum all over her floor and a little on her shoes.
Directly after cumming, she showed she wasn’t angry with me at all. In fact, she looked more than a little disappointed. She looked down at me and said “Baby, you weren’t supposed to cum yet.” However, as suddenly as she broke character, she was back in it. She said in a seductive voice, “You better recoup soon, I wasn’t done.”
I saw her smile and she said, “Onto your stomach and make sure I have access to your dick. Hurry up!” I did as I was told, and she took the opportunity to step gently onto my dick, and she rubbed her shoe on that same spot, hoping to arouse me. Her hopes became reality after a short time, and I got hard under her platform pump. As soon as I was hard she ordered me to stand up, go to her bed and lay down. I did gingerly, lying on my back with my hard cock on my stomach.
She said simply, “Shirt off,” and I took it off slowly. I watched her as she took her thong off from under her skirt. With all her clothes on—except her underwear—she straddled my body with her pussy where my cock was. She smiled with a satisfied look on her face and said, “I think you’ve learned your lesson. Now for your reward…”