The Warrior

[Precis Girl]

Hi all, this is my first submission, hope at least one of you likes it. Please go easy on me, I'm a little nervous about posting here, but constructive criticisms are welcome. Thanks, and hope y'all enjoy! Just realized this thing didn't get my tabs. anyone know how to correct that? it looks like crap right now lol



Chapter 1She looked with some contempt at the man who had accosted her. He was rather frail looking, and the way he handled his sword screamed incompetence to any trained knight. But he stood tall and proud in front of her, making a speech about money or something, though she didn’t pay much attention. She took in his attire as she waited. He was dressed rather strangely, with what looked like an expensive shirt and pants, but with muddy and uncared-for boots, and a thick leather tunic covering his chest. She kept a trained eye on his chest and groin. No real protection at either area: she could easily kill him without breaking a sweat. She herself was dressed in form-fitting pants, of a stretchy material, made with range of motion in mind, and a white men’s style dress shirt, re-tailored to fit her more petite form. She had on soft leather moccasins, to allow her to feel the terrain while still protecting her feet. Her outfit was meant specifically to allow her to use her whole body in battle, and looking at his, she knew that he was more than just unprepared for life outside of the city, he was also inexperienced for it.


When he was ready, she saw his body tighten as he charged at her.She pushed her short, lustrous black hair up, smoothing it over her scalp, though it sprang back forward, shading her eyes as soon as her hand left it. She then smiled grimly; this man...this boy would get a lesson in manners and martial ability before the day was over.

She watched lazily as he charged all the way up to her and swung his sword down on her with all his might. At the last second she twirled out of his path, ending up right behind him as his sword crashed down harmlessly to the ground. He looked surprised as she laid her own sword casually across his neck. She wanted him to see just how outclassed he was before she emasculated him. Then she pulled her sword back and laid a thunderous kick right into his jewels. He gave a pitiful squawk and his legs folded up under him. He hit the ground moaning. She had a lopsided grin on her face as she bent over, patting him on the shoulder and saying, "You really should pick your opponents better. And stop broadcasting your moves! I could have killed you in six different ways before you even got close enough to hit me!"

She could see that that comment had offended him in the tightening of his shoulders and the scowl that replaced the pain on his face. She grinned, knowing he would fight more. She watched him as he slowly got up, grasping his sword again and turning to face her. He ran at her again with a straight thrust toward her. She casually knocked the sword off of its path with a swing of her hand, careful to avoid the edge of the blade. She made sure not to use her own weapon, both because she wanted him to feel just how hopeless he was, and because if something happened to turn the tables on her, he would not know the skill she possessed with her weapon. As soon as his blade was past her, she stepped up close to him and jerked her knee into his balls, though much lighter than perhaps she should have. He groaned in obvious pain and began to sink to the ground as she plucked his sword effortlessly from his fingers. Before he could fall, though, she placed both arms around his hips, marveling at the way his body felt, light and almost girlish. She certainly outweighed him, even as slight as she was. She kept him from collapsing as she drove her knee again into his balls, eliciting another squawk from him, and then a third time as his eyes watered. She continued to make the hits lighter. For some reason, her usual bloodlust was gone and she did not wish to give the boy any permanent damage.

When he hit the ground, she waited patiently for him to recover. She told him, "You're holding your sword wrong, you need to have an over-under grip on it, or you'll lose it every time!" She tossed the sword in the air and snatched it gingerly at the blade, then she raised it quickly, hitting him in the groin again with the hilt. Her grip was such that the sword could make almost no impact at all, but he bent over, clutching at his genitals anyway. Then he grabbed the sword and ripped it viciously out of her hand, drawing a large cut across her palm. She looked at her hand for a moment, then back to him with a grin on her face. She found herself admiring both his persistence and his resilience. A small part of her brain also admired his features, soft and pretty. He was so different from the men she knew. He wasn’t tall, though taller than she; he was unmarked by battles, soft and pink as a baby. Part of her felt the usual contempt for such a pathetic specimen of humanity as this, while another part actually liked what she saw.

He reset his grip on his sword, using the over-under technique she had told him, and then launched a furious upward swing at her, trying with all his might to catch her off guard. She almost laughed out loud as she saw that he had to spread his legs wide to keep his balance.

She again sidestepped him, keeping ahead of the blade this time, and as she passed she slapped her hand into his groin, grasping his testicles in her hand and giving them a vicious little squeeze and then letting go as she walked past him. She could hear a muffled sob in his breath as he tried to fight past the pain. She said, as she continued walking, "Stop trying to overpower me, you keep leaving your balls open! Every time you do that, I'm going to hurt them!"

She again waited politely as he slowly readied himself. When he was ready she watched him as he prodded her defenses with his sword, trying for a hit on her but drawing back because he refused to open his legs. Now, she needed him to teach him another lesson.

She sighed. Men! she thought, they're all the same, either they protect their balls too much or not at all. Well she was going to break him of that habit soon enough. She again wondered to herself why she even cared. It was not like her at all.

She feinted a kick to his balls and as she saw him curl in on himself and try to place his sword protectively across his groin, she threw a straight punch right into his face, perfectly placed between his eyes and just low enough to also hit the nose. His head rocked back, he was temporarily blinded by her hit. She smiled and gave another vicious little punch right to his balls as he was distracted from above. This time, the sob that came from him was louder and she saw his face screwed up in pain and he fell to his knees, nearly weeping. Her heart leapt in her chest and she wanted to comfort him. Damn it! she thought, he was trying to rob you! He may have even wanted to ra-pe you, stop feeling sorry for him!

She watched though, stunned actually, as he again got up and reset himself for his attack. She thought she should stop this now. "Look, don't you know when you're beaten? I can beat you at any time, stop now before I really hurt you!" She said this in a pleading voice, really trying to get it through to him that if he continued, she might actually really injure him. But the look on his face, that rage that continued to flow through him, refused her advice. Damn, she thought, I guess I'm going to have to finish this quickly and try not to destroy him too badly in the process.

This time she didn't wait for his attack but pressed her own attack on him. She moved forward and thrust her sword at his face, causing him to recoil and bring his sword across in a block. Then she went in for another groin attack but he swept his sword down, causing her to pull back in surprise. He learns pretty fast for having his balls being bashed in all the time! she thought. She again feinted for the face but this time when he went to block, she grasped his sword arm with her free hand and twisted, causing him to fall to the side to keep his balance. She sliced down with her sword, catching his belt and cutting it clean off. Then she casually reversed her grip on her sword and brutally mashed his balls with the pommel of her sword. He cried out in pain, a more piteous sound she had never heard. She then pushed him forward and, as he fell down, she jerked his pants down first. There, hanging between his legs, were his penis and testicles, and a sorry sight they were! His penis was limp and tiny, so much so that she could only barely see it over the swelling of his bruised testicles. She winced at the sight of them and was ready to try and help him when she saw him struggling still.

The sight of him still struggling, against such overwhelming odds and pain, both frustrated her and made her wet with excitement. Never before had she seen a man so determined. Too bad he was such a poor fighter. She knew she had to put him down for good now, so she stepped back, eyed her targets and let loose a kick that was only just barely short of cast-ration. His cry of pain was silent as he rose up in the air, but when he crashed back down to the ground, his will broke and he began crying in earnest. This was not simply a pain weeping, this was a total broken-will, I'm-hurt-and-want-my-mommy sobbing. He was not a man any more, only a broken little boy wanting his mommy to stop the horrible pain. She finally allowed herself to lie down next to him and curled up against him, shielding him from the elements as she stroked his head, his side, and the arms so desperately clutching the fruits of his manhood. She shushed him, made soft cooing sounds of comfort in his ears and tried her best to take away the agony she herself had bestowed upon him.

[poiu]

Nice start! I feel like there's been very few new stories here recently – it's great to have another writer :) Welcome to the club!

Re: tabs, I'm not sure how to make that work, unfortunately. I generally post my stories with blank lines between each paragraph, though I know that's not everyone's favorite style.

Also, note that this forum automatically censors certain words like ra.pe and cas.tra.tion (and for.ced, randomly). You can get around that by inserting random periods in the middle of the word, like I just did.

[Precis Girl]

Thanks for the suggestions! And the welcome! I hope I can fit in with such awesome writers as you!

[wolly]

Epps this is an absolutely fantastic Story :3 I seriously can not in words express how much I enjoyed reading it ^.^ absolutely fantastic hopefully you feel inspired and perhaps continue the story! Or write something similar! :)

[Precis Girl]

Wow thanks for the kind words! And yeah I already have a few chapters written, I just didn't want to throw it all out there in case no one liked it lol. I'll post chapter 2 tomorrow!

[Alec Anaconda, A1]

It’s a good, well written story.
I did not spot a single typo.

Formatting, for readability, is not easy on this forum, but I had no trouble reading this.
Perhaps you could consider shorter paragraphs and starting speech on a new line?

[Precis Girl]

thanks for the suggestions alec, ill see what i can do!

[Precis Girl]

Gah! This formatting bugs me...i need tabs dammit! ok, well someone asked for more so here's chapter 2! hope you all enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it! :P


Chapter 2

They lay together all night long, after she had prepared a makeshift tent over them, feeling too guilty over the fact that he had never stopped clutching himself to move him. His whimpers continued throughout the night and she alternated between rubbing his arm and side and trying to comfort his groin, although he curled up tighter and began crying again in fear when she did. By the morning he had finally eased up on his cramped position and relaxed ever so slightly. She took that as a good sign and climbed up over him so she could lie down facing him. She softly stroked his cheek as she met his eyes. He stared at her wide-eyed and fearful, his eyes flinching away from her but drawing back almost immediately. Finally she spoke.

"Are you all right?" She asked softly. He whimpered pitifully and shook his head. His hands once again crossed protectively across his groin.

"I'm sorry for hurting you, but you were going to rob me. I had to stop you." She said sternly, trying to inject just the right amount of indignation into her voice. He flinched again and ducked his head shamefully.

"I had to..." he replied in a hoarse whisper. "I needed the money." He looked like he was about to cry and her heart went out to him, but she told herself harshly that he needed to be taught a lesson in morality.

"You were going to rob me! You were going to take all of my money and supplies and leave me stranded out here!" She said this in a brutal tone of voice, trying to get across to him exactly what his plans would have meant for her had she not been capable of fighting him. Then suddenly a thought popped into her head. "You might even have tried to ra-pe me!"

She knew he had thought of it when a huge blush suffused his cheeks at her pronouncement. He tried to deny it, but she could tell by his stutter that he had wanted to. She knew now he really needed to be punished and she knew just how to do it. But she didn’t want him to hate her, she needed him to see it for himself.
"You need to be punished for what you were going to do to me." She said softly, staring into his eyes in what she hoped was a motherly way. He jerked back from her quickly and cried, "No!" but she had to squash her pity and follow through. She stood up and, grabbing him by his shirt, she set him on his feet easily. He still stood hunched over, protecting his injured testes.

"You were going to let me die out here, and you were probably going to ra-pe me as well. Anyone else would have killed you without a second thought, isn't that right?" She asked him, trying to remain stern, but using a hand to stroke his cheek soothingly as she did. "I had the opportunity. Even after the fight, I laid with you, I protected you from the night, and I tried to help you through the pain. No one else would have done those things. You deserve to be punished, but I don't want to kill you. But I do need to make sure you would never do that again. So I'm going to punish you." She continued speaking in a voice halfway between comforting and harsh. "Will you take it like a man or do I have to treat you like a child?"

He stiffened at this comment and sniffed his tears away. He looked her in the eye and she was gratified to see the steel in his gaze. She may have broken his will yesterday, but it was back today. "Do what you...must." he said hesitantly.

She grabbed him by the shoulders and positioned her leg in between his, nudging his legs open. There was no doubt in his mind about what she had planned for him.

"You were going to rob me and leave me to die. Tell me you're sorry!" She said roughly.

He gulped and said, "I'm sorry that I was going to rob you, I didn't think about what would happen to you afterwards...I'm sorry." This last he said as he flicked his eyes up to her and gazed directly into hers. She truly believed him. Thus, she knew to make this especially hard, to cement in his mind that he could not behave this way.

She pounded her knee up into his already damaged balls, flattening them against his pelvis, and causing him to fold up against her as what little strength he had left him. She held him up against her as he burst into harsh sobs of pain again. They stood there, harsh mistress and chastised servant, until he had quieted down again.

She didn't stand him back up this time, knowing he would not have the strength to stand on his own. She whispered softly into his ear, "Now apologize to me that you were going to ra-pe me. By all rights, these-" she grasped his balls gently in her hand "-should be mine. So apologize for daring to use these against me, and thank me for being merciful enough to let you keep them, damaged though they are."

He burst into tears again, he thought it was over. He cried out to her, "No please not again! I can't take it! Please don't hurt me again! I'm sorry!" But she hardened her heart against his pleas. She stroked his back tenderly and said, "Just this one more, and I promise that it will be over. You deserve this last one, especially, because of what you had planned for me. Say it."

"I...I...deserve...this." He said haltingly, through his tears and sobs. Even with everything he had been through, he still had the capacity to fight through the pain. She was duly impressed with his fighting spirit, if not his fighting prowess. "I'm so sorry for wanting to ra-pe you. It wasn't my plan, I didn't mean to until I saw you, you're just so beautiful and I thought maybe I could..." he trailed off as he realized this might make her angrier. "I'm sorry that I wanted to...ra-pe...you. And I thank you for letting me keep my manhood. Do what you will to me." His voice was barely a whisper as he trailed off, fighting his tears, his pain, his weakness.

She smiled at him, feeling a pride that she didn't understand well up in her chest. She drew her leg back, ready to pummel him once more. Her thoughts turned, then, to the damage she had already inflicted. How much is too much? she wondered. Maybe I should take it a little easy on him.

No! she thought viciously. He needs a firm hand to guide him and I will be that firm hand!

She thrust her knee back viciously into his testicles, and a more piercing and pathetic wail she had never heard in her life.

[wolly]

:D hurray part two!! I have to say I love how you combine a strangely affectionate and brutal situation into the same writing! Simply fantastic, along side the background setting of the story, simply great :)!

[Precis Girl]

Yay, i have my first official fan! thank you for the praise! ill be posting chapter 3 here shortly, hope its also well received

[jabby]

I LOVE it! One of the best stories I have read in ages! I am stunned that this is the first story you have written, I hope it is the first of many! I love the fact that the main character seems reluctant to bust his balls... but you can tell she enjoys punishing him at the same time :) Brilliant.

[Precis Girl]

well its not the first story i wrote, but it is the first one ive felt confident enough to release to the public! also my first fetish story lol. and tons of thanks for the praise! ill post the next chapter right after dinner, so you may wait with bated breath :P

[Precis Girl]

Ok, heres the next chapter, not much on the bb this time tho, its more character development i guess lol. hope yall enjoy! P.S. dont hate me for my other fetishes :weryfun


Chapter 3

That whole day they spent again cuddled under her little makeshift tent, her cooing and comforting him, he groaning and crying alternately as the pain peaked and receded every so often. By night he wasn't quite so pathetically crushed, and so she made them a quick supper, and as he sat there, shifting uncomfortably, trying to find a position that didn’t make his balls ache, she watched him, so delicate and fragile. So weak. He didn't belong out here on his own, where monsters could kill him, bandits could rob him, women could...well, do what she had done to him. He belonged with someone who could protect him, shield him from the horrible realities of life. She knew that she shouldn’t be showing such fondness for a boy who had attacked her, planned on ra-ping her. But still...she could tell he was inexperienced, that this was likely his very first foray into any kind of combat. It must be so humbling for him, to have his manhood so thoroughly taken away from him in single combat. She scooted closer to him and put an arm comfortingly around him.

"I hope I didn't hurt you too bad...?" she said, adding a little uptilt to her words, turning it into an almost-question. He blushed brightly and shook his head no, not looking at her, concentrating on his food. She could see, however, his legs close protectively again. She sighed. She didn't want him to be afraid of her. She felt a little slighted, almost disappointed in his reactions to her, though she knew it was unsurprising considering how badly she had hurt him. She moved back away from him and sat down, wondering what to do. She watched him out of the corner of his eye and how he winced at her every move. It was like he expected her to just charge in and start beating on him again. Damn! she thought. I need to let him relax a little. She stood up suddenly and announced that she was going out to get some more firewood. She saw him stiffen and he got up as suddenly as he could, announcing, "No, I'll get it!" He started moving and then apparently found that he couldn’t do any real walking, for he sank back down, his hands between his legs as he groaned in a low voice.
She walked up to him concerned, and asked, "Are you all right?" He nodded but she could see the sweat on his brow and the flush in his cheeks and she knew he was suffering. She patted his back soothingly. "Don't worry, I'll get the wood, you just lie back and rest." he nodded again, still clenched up and in pain. She walked away, looking back and worried that she had really hurt him too much.

She had gathered a sufficient amount of firewood, and had returned to the edge of the camp when she saw him still where he had sank to the ground, but now he was curled up in a fetal ball of misery and he was sobbing quietly, trying to muffle his agony. She immediately dropped her bundle of wood and rushed to his side.

"Okay, I know you're not alright, so I need to see how bad you are. I'm going to take your pants off, Okay?" She asked, with her hands already on his pants. He shook his head furiously, trying to catch his breath to tell her not to. "Stop that!" She said in a voice of steel. "You need help, and I'm the only person who can help you out here." She undid his belt and pulled his pants down, watching his big swollen and bruised testicles come into sight. Then he panicked and started struggle, pulling his pants back up, trying to fight her off. She tried to subdue him for a second, and then thought better of making him struggle. She needed him to stop now, and without hurting anyone. She frowned at what she was going to do, but she knew it had to be done. She reached back into his pants, and softly grabbed his testicles. It was masterfully done and she was proud of herself for doing it without hurting him. As soon as she had his balls in her hand, his struggles stopped and she saw his eyes grow big and fearful as he slowly drug his gaze to her. She gave him a hard piercing stare and said, "This is going to happen, and you are going to cooperate. Yes?" She gave his balls a barely perceptible squeeze and watched him wince. It bothered her more than she liked to admit to see him beaten once again.

Without relinquishing her grip, for she was afraid of him struggling again, she pulled his pants down awkwardly. She then turned her gaze to his balls, and she almost cried out aloud at their appearance. They were black and blue, bruised rather badly, and swollen to the extreme. Though their size was normally tiny, they had swollen to the size of chicken eggs, and she could see that this was abnormal, filling his sack until it looked like a single big lump of misshapen flesh. She tenderly stroked his battered flesh, and watched his face for any sign of pain. He sighed gingerly and relaxed, letting his body go limp and his head loll back.

She smiled. It was the first sign that he had shown that didn't make her feel like an abuser. She continued to stroke his sack, ever so gently probing him for damage. She didn't feel anything, so she just kept running her hands over it, it seemed to make him feel better, and this was the first time she had felt a guy like this, so gently, it was nice. Normally her sexual encounters were so much more...fierce. But this wasn't a sexual encounter, she reminded herself. But then again, the throbbing column of maleness that had erected in front of her eyes begged to differ on that score. She looked at it, fascinated at how it looked. It was so small, surely even less than a handful, and it was smooth and straight and hairless. It looked so...harmless. Her own experience with the male organ had led her to believe that they all were huge, ugly and hairy, good only for sex and then to be throw out of her bed. But this thing-it was absolutely adorable! It even looked tasty. She surprised herself that she wanted to kiss the tip of it, for in her culture, to lower oneself to putting ones own mouth on a male organ was the lowest of the low, fit only for cripples and foreign women who could not even fight. It was debasement of the highest level, submitting to a man's sexual desires, making oneself subservient. The thought before had always disgusted her, but here, she knew that even if she did that, she would always hold the dominant position. She moaned in the greatest sexual need of her life as she leaned forward and planted the gentlest kiss on the jutting tip of his tiny, threatless penis.

She was unprepared for his reaction, as he groaned and thrust his hips at her, causing his penis to slid up her face. She leaned back and looked at him, startled and angry at him for his presumption, but caught herself when she saw that he was as startled as she. He gave a whine deep in his throat and closed his eyes as he humped his penis ever so gently into the open air. She could see that he was desperate for contact, but she didn't expect this from a man who had just been in such pain. Was this normal? she wondered. Maybe he needs this.

She leaned forward again and this time engulfed his entire penis into the hot wet cavity of her mouth. Intellectually, she didn't know what to do with it, but apparently her tongue did, as it began to swirl around, tasting every nook and cranny. She moaned deeply, with his penis still in her mouth, embarrassed at her reaction, but unable to draw back. She wanted this to last forever, this moment in time, with no one around to judge her for her actions, lost in the act of giving a man pleasure, something that she had frowned upon her whole life. But it was not to be, as the young man gave a whine and grabbed her head, jabbing his penis as fully into her as he was able. She was surprised by his actions, but when he began spitting his seed into her mouth, she suddenly understood. Every fiber of her upbringing cried out to her to cast-rate him, grab his balls and rip them clean off his body, to pound them until he finally died of the pain. Yet there was a core inside of her that was proud of her accomplishment, that he grabbed her, not to show his dominance of her, but because she had driven him to lose all control of himself. And so she showed forbearance for his transgression. Also, the taste of his seed on her tongue was intoxicating and she lost herself in the flavor.

When he had finally let go of her, she looked up at him, unsure of what to do with his seed, but when she saw that he had fainted, she swallowed it unselfconsciously, glad to not have him as a witness to her final debasement. Troubled, she grabbed her sword and walked out of the little makeshift camp, after covering her new male with a blanket. She had a lot of thinking to do, and she needed to do it without his damning influence on her.

[Alec Anaconda, A1]

Your plot is developing most intriguingly; I'm so pleased you’ve resisted gelding him.


P.S. don’t hate me for my other fetishes

Bring them on, vanilla and all, for there’s more to life than “woman kicks balls”.

[jabby]

An excellent third part! I'm hoping he passed out at the end because the pain of cumming after she bruised his balls was too much for him ;)

Hopefully another instalment coming soon! Can I ask what your previous stories have been about?

[Precis Girl]

lol thanks for the kind words, and my previous stories have been similar to this barring the kinky stuff lol, i like to write fantasy stuff. im just a nerd at heart

[jabby]

lol thanks for the kind words, and my previous stories have been similar to this barring the kinky stuff lol, i like to write fantasy stuff. im just a nerd at heart

Are your stories available anywhere to read? If not, would you consider making them available? If they are similar to this I'm sure people would enjoy reading them even without the bb.

[Precis Girl]

unfortunately, no i havent posted them anywhere for anyone to read, and a lot of it i wrote when i was younger, so id really need to do some editing before i actually post it. ill think about it tho lol, and thanks again!

[pallone]

Your story is great, well written. Thanks for sharing. I wonder if she's going to cas-trate him (or anyone else) :)

[nonniemouse]

This is fantastically written! I'm not usually one for the "softer fare" of the latter chapters, but it's definitely an enjoyable read. Keep up the good work! I'd also love to see the heroine in action during her "fiercer" moments :)

[wolly]

Hehe I really do like the fantasy background setting! That last chapter almost makes it seem like she plans on keeping him as if he were a pet ^.^! Also kinda curious what sort of background the female character came from :P sounds almost Viking-y ?

[Precis Girl]

heh, thats kinda whats on her mind. she cant take him seriously as a warrior, so she wont view him as an equal, but maybe a cuddly little pet would do nicely! and yeah, shes a real warrior culture kinda gal, not specifically viking (cuz its not earth theyre on :P) but yeah, definitely warlike and brutal lol

[nonniemouse]

Love your writing! The later chapters aren't quite my thing, but they're definitely fun to read. Would have loved to see the main character in action in her "fiercer" moments though :D

[Precis Girl]

Ok, here's my last pre-made chapter, after that I still need to write them. Also, a huge thank you goes out to poiu, for his encouragement to me, and for his editing, thanks poiu, youre the best! hope its up to snuff, it feels a bit off to me, but im already committed lol. anyway, enjoy!

Chapter 4

She walked through the forest with a purpose, slashing at any brush unfortunate enough to be in her path. She watched her sword sweep through the leaves and wood effortlessly, and she was reminded of who she was. With this sword she had killed dozens, maybe hundreds of men and women, without remorse, without a second thought. In and out of battle she had killed, for reasons as simple as the one that had gotten her into this mess, and for reasons as complex as political assassinations. Why had she spared this man...this poorly formed man, such a weak little man, hardly more than a boy, with no muscles to speak of, no grace in his movements, and certainly nothing below the belt worth a mention?

She pictured him in her mind's eye, his lean, lithe form, more of a girl's body than a man's. He even had soft facial features, nothing at all like the hard, chiseled, weather beaten faces of the men from her homeland.

What the hell had gotten into her? By all rights, she should have killed him straight out, or at the very least a quick cast-ration, which would have led to death out here in the wilderness anyway. So, why did she instead take it upon herself to pound his manhood very nearly to mush, before she stopped? She was not one to torture a person. But she admitted to herself that she had felt something for the boy, when he had stood tall in front of her, meaning to rob her. He just looked so...cute standing there, holding his sword in such a clumsy grip. He reminded her of a young boy, just past the toddler age, playing with a toy sword. That was it, she realized. He simply had none of the skills he needed to survive at all in this world, and she knew without a doubt that, had he accosted anyone else, he would have ended the day as a bloated corpse, rotting under the sun.

Her sense told her that this boy had simply been picked up by real bandits and was little more than a practical joke to them. Send him out to rob someone, if he dies, then it's good for a laugh, if he actually succeeds, then they had a new initiate into their little gang. She suddenly froze as the thought crossed her mind. If they had sent him, then they would be expecting him back soon, or they might...come looking for his body!

She whirled around immediately, dashing back toward the camp, her heart pounding in sudden fear, even as her brain asked her why she was so worried. Damn this situation! Why does he mean anything to me at all? With an iron will, she for-ced her mind off the subject of her confusion and concentrated on the possibility of an upcoming battle.

She had come close to the edge of the camp when she heard a bloodcurdling scream. She stopped immediately, crouching down and readying her sword. She waited for the blood rushing through her ears to quiet and when it did, she heard the heart rending sound of sobs coming from the camp. Someone was hurting her boy! Her eyes narrowed and she crept closer to the camp, and saw them. Six total bandits, four men, two women, one who was crouched over her little boy, and had her hands in his crotch. It was this bitch who was hurting her boy! Her hands tightened on her sword as she bared her teeth in a feral grin.

Her practiced eyes surveyed the battlefield and she saw her course of action clearly. First, subdue the closest man, cripple the next, and if there was time, kill the third. That left her with one man left, and the two women. She hoped, with proper intimidation, she would have little problem with this band of marauders.

She crept up silently to within grappling range of her first target, then ever so gently placed her sword on the ground and drew out a small dagger. This would require a deft hand. She then lunged forward, wrapping her left arm around the man's waist, and grabbing his considerable package in an iron grip. She yanked forward, pulling them away from his body and giving her room to slice the entirety of his manhood off, even as he opened his mouth and screamed, alerting the other bandits. She dropped her bloody prize and snatched up her sword, flicking the dagger hard at the farthest man and hitting him directly in the throat, the blade sinking to the hilt. She launched herself forward and laid a devastating kick directly to his knee cap, shattering it and reversing the bend of his leg. She set her legs and heaved him to the side. She was rather shocked to see how poorly they had reacted. No one even had a weapon out yet. But they were starting to come out of their shock. Regardless, she bolted to her next target, sinking her sword brutally into his stomach, neatly skewering him.

She whirled then, to face the two women who had been torturing her boy. The one who had not been directly involved, was slowly backing away, until she suddenly found herself with twenty four inches of steel sticking out of her breast. She fell unceremoniously, noticed by neither of the two combatants. The woman who had been roughing up her boy eyed her with a steely glance. This one was no wallflower, ready to bolt at the first sign of resistance. This one was a warrior. She grinned, glad to kill someone who might have a chance to fight back before dying. She watched as the woman reached behind her and drew out a quarterstaff. The woman, without pretense or a telegraphing of movement, lashed out with her staff, intending to crush the interloper's face in. She batted the staff away easily, and struck underneath her outstretched arm, snapping a rib as if it were nothing. The woman gasped and dropped her instrument, folding to try and protect her injury.

She struck with her palm, rocking the woman's head back and she laid a barrage of punches across her front, crushing ribs, pounding organs, and, in a fit of rage at what she had seen this woman do to her boy - her boy! - she ended with an uppercut right into the groin of the woman, delivered with enough force to crack her pelvis. The woman's eyes bugged out, unable to comprehend all of the different conflicting pains, and all of them delivered with such surgical precision. The woman fell to the ground, already beginning to cough blood up from her damaged lungs. She glared at the dying woman, drawing her arm back and driving it straight through, crushing her heart with all the force she could muster behind it. The woman died with little more than a whimper.

She stood up, taking a deep breath, before turning around and receiving a shock: there in front her now, was another bandit, with her boy being used as a shield, a shortsword to his throat. She bared her teeth at the man, but he only laughed.

"Okay girl, it's time for you to give up. I got your sweetie here, and if you don't cooperate I'm gonna open his throat up and leave him to die in your arms!" He jerked his arm back to show her he was serious, leaving the tiniest of scrapes across her boy's throat. She nodded to show she understood him, her eyes never leaving her boys' face. He looked so scared, so vulnerable.

She took a slow step forward, and the man tightened up his grip on her boy, and pressed the sword tighter to his throat. "Stop! I said I'll do it, and I meant it!" She only shook her head, and brought her arms up to loosen the eyelets that held her shirt together.
“Leave him alone, and you can have me without a fight.” She said, pulling her shirt apart slightly, teasing him with a tantalizing glimpse of her flesh. She noted how his eyes were riveted to her chest, and she gave him a slight smile. She took another slow step forward, and said, “Wouldn’t you rather have me willingly? Or do you prefer the struggle? I can struggle for you, if that’s what you wish. Leave my boy alone and I’ll be whatever you want.”
He continued to stare, not giving any indication that he had heard her at all. With a shrug, she dropped her shirt, baring her breasts in all their glory to this disgusting bandit...and to her boy. She shivered as she watched him stiffen up in the cowards arms. Even in this life or death situation, he could not tear his gaze from her naked flesh. She continued to step forward, though this time the bandit did nothing to stop her.

She reached the two men (her boy, her mind whispered, determined to give her a hard time at every opportunity) and reached her hand up slowly, ever so slowly to cup her boy's cheek gently. With her eyes still focused on his, her hand darted forward and snatched the bandit's testicles through his pants. He grunted and fought to slit the boy's throat, but he was unprepared to have her grasp the blade of his weapon, and though he fought with all his strength to cut, her grip never wavered and the blade never touched the boy's throat again. The man continued to lose strength as she crushed his balls in her hand. Then his hand fell and tried to grasp weakly at her hand to stop the dreadful squeezing. With a smile, she pulled the man's sword back and deftly reversed her grip, grasping it as it was meant to be used. She leaned forward, and whispered in his ear, "You coward, using a boy to defend yourself. You don't deserve these." And she simply brought the sword across and sliced his balls off. He screeched in agony and fell to the ground, grasping at his groin.

She turned back to her boy, to check on him, but he recoiled from her in fright. She frowned and reached a hand out to him, but he shuffled back again.

"I won't hurt you. I did this to save you. You are mine now. I won't let anyone harm you anymore." She said to him, hoping her declaration would help.

He gazed back at her dumbly, not knowing what to say, only seeing in his mind the effortless way she had cast-rated the man. His hands crossed down to his groin again and his whole body curled tighter as he cried to her, "Please don't hurt me! Please!" His voice then descended into whimpers and sobs as his terror took over. She stepped forward again and grasped his face between her two hands. She pulled his face forward and place it gently against her breasts as she enveloped him in her hug. He cried again, this time in relief as he grasped her in a grip of panicky tightness. She smiled. He had finally accepted her.

[wolly]

Eeeeps! I love this story :3! Hehe Almost worth being completely useless and having a small penis just to be that boy to the unnamed Heroine ^.^! Though I wonder if since their not from earth, will we maybe get to see some background information in one of the next, chapters ^.^? Maybe a flash back or a dream to give some information about the Heroine seems like she has quiet the past! Wonder how that will affect her new interactions with her boy and seemingly somewhat hopefully Pet :3! Anyway lovely story as always, super nice to see a story like this set in a fantasy setting, though might just be my slight inner nerd taking . . .*Hide inner nerd*

[Precis Girl]

lol thanks wolly, and yeah, youll get background later, including her name, but the way this story worked out, it did well in my opinion to not have names for awhile. i think it helps to show how possessive she is of him already. but that could be just me. lol inner nerd, well your nerdism is gonna be tweaked in the next chapter, i even had to break out my bfs copy of dungeons n dragons monster manual to find good monsters :P

[Alec Anaconda, A1]

So far, you’re living up to your nom de plume, for your narrative is without padding.

I’m looking forward to the next instalment!

[Precis Girl]

lol. alec is that a good thing or bad? it sounds not so good to me, maybe i need to work on my padding lol

[wolly]

Yup the showing how possessive she is with the guy is more emphasized with the lack of names, and narration style. xD Monster Manual, I could see quiet a few things fitting into this kinda theme. . . maybe Drow or Lamia's :P ?

[Alec Anaconda, A1]

lol. alec is that a good thing or bad? it sounds not so good to me, maybe i need to work on my padding lol

IMHO, for this story and in this forum, it’s excellent.
My reading time is limited, so I don’t need waffle.

[ron10]

Enjoyed your story, very nicely done, keep it up.

[IvanNikolai21]

Great story! Your writing is impecable and I have fantasy kinda similar to this one so big turn on for me

[Precis Girl]

OK, unfortunately, I have yet to finish another chapter on this story, I really want to, but it's just so hard to continue, it feels too important to half-ass! Anyway, I've posted it on my blog, along with a few other stories I've written, so far they all contain ballbusting, so y'all may enjoy them. If you wanna check it out, it's at precisgirl.blogspot.com thanks!

[poolman2]

Precis Girl,

This is a very good story! :bananajum I just belatedly discovered it.

I like your writing. I am very much enjoying this story and looking forward to the next chapter.

Keep up the good work.

poolman2 :ibow4u:

[Precis Girl]

thanks very much poolman2! this story is my baby, but because if its importance to me, i am slow to update it, but i definitely will work on it :D

[lesserone]

Thank you Precis Girl! I love the fantasy theme! I wish you would write some novels. The use of magic in the "Wizard" was very neat.

[Precis Girl]

im very glad you liked it, lesserone! i would totally write a novel if i had the attention span for it...but seeing as how im struggling to finish chapter 5 of The Warrior, i dont think its gonna happen...still, the income...*drool* :p anyway, thanks for the magic comment, i was playing an old game and it had a magic missile spell in it, and i was like..hmm that looks like something that could have some real practical applications :D

[lesserone]

Precis Girl have you ever thought of writing a story that has the characters in a futuristic Sci-Fi? Maybe have the women turn the tables and become dominant?

[Precis Girl]

I tend to write for the underdogs, so my position would change during the writing :P and no, ive never really written anything sci-fi-ish. possibilities are there tho! hmm...

[Messalina]

Hello there,

How are you? I have not posted here for sometime. However, I was scanning the various threads and your story caught my eye. This is wonderful! Thank you, so much for your depiction of the heroine. It is so refreshing! Usually, the women depicted in stories on forums such as this one, are written one dimensionally. We are presented as; callous, sadistic, heartless bitches! The women are shown reveling in brutal emasculation / killings. I suppose, this is due to the overwhelming presence of male masochists, on boards such as these. It is so lovely to see a female warrior who, is tough and skilled in lethal combat. One capable of almost unspeakable ferociousness and savagery. Yet, still able to feel compassion and empathy! A woman that still has her humanity. One who is dealing with conflicting emotions and desires. Basically, someone that still possess' a soul. Rather than, being a caricature of the supposed "female warrior".

As a lady who, is employed in the security field.. I thank you. This has touched my heart!:)

Messalina

[Precis Girl]

wow thanks messalina! this is awesome praise! and yeah, i see so many stories where the girls are just so brutal and without a shred of compassion, and i just cant see myself in any of that! im so glad i could connect with someone on such a personal level with my story! im so excited i could squeal :D

[Mythical Pain]

Thanks for posting this! It's always lovely to see new fiction on this site, about this subject. I've been enjoying your story tonight. Haven't caught up on all the chapters yet, but wanted to leave my thoughts.

Makes me want to write about a female warrior character. Been thinking about a female monster hunter, or attempted monster hunter. Out to slay a dragon, cracks his nuts till the dragon's finished...but spares his life and sort of makes him her partner, as it were. You may have inspired me to get on that sooner rather than later!

Keep up the good work!

[Messalina]

Hello Precis Girl,

You are most welcome. I suspect much of the reason "The girls are just so brutal and without a shred of compassion," in this type of fiction; these tales tend to be written by men and or fetishists. They tend to view matters through the lens of said fetish. Once again, your story is quite refreshing in this regard! The heroine is quite brutal and vicious. However, she has reason to be. It is not simply for kicks. It that a pun?:o Also, I like the fact she feels some measure of regret / guilt for brutalizing the boy. Particularly, in such an humiliating and savage way. She is keenly aware of the mismatch. There is no honour in killing or maiming, an inferior or the weak. Your heroine appears to be a veteran warrior and perhaps assassin. I should like to think, (on some level) the professional warrior is embarrassed. BTW, I understand the views of those who, feel the boy should become her "pet".

If I may be so bold.... imho; the lad is a human being, not a puppy. What is the age difference? Maybe there could be a kind of "May-December" thing happening? It would add to the contradictions, nicely. Such as; woman / man, stronger / weaker, skilled / unskilled, experienced / novice. Then again, perhaps a sensei / student or mentor / protege?

Yes, I fancy the notion of being able to see myself, in your story. Your heroine appears not to be a sadist by nature. This helps greatly. She has rage and can loose it, to descend into barbaric acts. However, she does not enjoy torture. Yes, I have a mighty temper. I am half Irish and half Greek!lol However, through the study of various martial arts disciplines, I have learnt to tame the "demon within".<giggles>

Indeed, you did "Connect with someone on such a personal level". Particularly, in the section where the boy is afraid of the warrior. Also, her reaction to that fear. I "know" of this. It alters a relationship. Colours it forever. It can be overcome. However, the fearful partner never looks at the other partner, the same way.. again. Suffice it to say; it can be put in the past. Yet, the past is always there below the surface. Yes, you touched a nerve. I have no desire to "discuss" this further, in an open forum. If you wish it, maybe we can "chat" privately. As a security professional (and trained paramedic) perhaps, I can offer some insight?? Should, you desire it of course. BTW, a black coloured scrotum, usually indicates the presence of necrotic tissue. The same is often likely for the "contents" of the sac. Once again, thank you so much for your efforts!

Messalina:)

[Precis Girl]

Thanks so much Mythical Pain! I especially enjoy comments from other writers like you n SagaDC and poiu! it makes me feel like i did something right lol! and im glad to be an inspiration!

Messalina, thanks for the kind response, again! I also believe their relationship to be something other than pet/owner, but its certainly unbalanced in power, and I dont think she'll ever consider him an equal in their relationship. but maybe thats the way she likes it :p and yes, her warrior side, the part of her that feels honor most strongly, feels very ashamed of her actions. She is a brutal woman, raised in a brutal society so her actions here are almost despicable to her, she would feel that it would be better, more compassionate, to outright kill him, instead of removing his pride the way she did (because her culture puts a great amount of stock in pride). but at the same time, that honor part of her demands that she not kill someone that she sees as a boy, not even a man yet (tho he is old enough to be considered a man in age!). shes conflicted, and i rather enjoy writing her conflict!
Oh, also, I also write my stories through the lens of my own fetish, but because im not particularly sadistic, my stories are usually softer and more romantic! with a side order of pain :D

yeesh, i rambled on longer than i expected lol

[Messalina]

Hello there,

Once again, you are most welcome. What I am about to write (type?) will likely be considered heresy by Yank feminists. I wonder if, I will be burned in effigy?lol Relationships (successful ones, even) are not always comprised of "equals". Maybe, they do not need to be? My mum "ruled the roost" in our home. She and da, have been quite happy. Alright, they are a wee bit "out there"!LOL However, in our household (what is the "Americanism"?) ah, hubby is the "King of the castle".Naturally, every king must needs have a queen, yes?:D

Yes, "Removing his pride the way she did". I sensed she felt (severe) inner turmoil over this. Your heroine... in every way but the physical, emasculated the lad. AND came perilously close to doing that. (Who knows, his injuries maybe "that" severe?) She in effect removed, his dignity and self-respect. The male sense of self, seems to be wrapped up in physical prowess. Example; as a fighter, every man likes to think he can "handle himself". Assuredly, as a sportsman. Hence, the expression "You throw like a girl". Certainly, in the bedroom! They all seem to think the themselves, modern day reincarnations of Casanova and Valentino!:weryfun So, your heroine by her actions crushed his ego and identity.

You mentioned "She is a brutal woman, raised in a brutal society" and yet, "That honor part of her demands that she not kill someone that she sees as a boy,". This coupled with her earlier behavior towards the boy (particularly, the intimate aspect) in which, you referenced her not having met any male similar to him... could lead one to conclude, there is a part of her that might like a different kind of life. Or at least, the chance to have a very "different" kind of relationship with a man. My sense is that her interaction (and perhaps, "introduction") re; the physicality that goes on twixt men and women, has been brutal. So, this is what she has accepted and become accustomed to. Now perhaps, she is getting a slight glimmer that, there might be another way? One where, it could be gentle and beautiful?? Reading too much into this???<heehee>

In any event, we have learned no matter the brutality of her past, (or other sins) she is not an indiscriminate killer. You have shown us that, it is unlikely she could kill an unarmed person. Certainly, she could not harm a child. Her vicious and horrifically brutal response to the boy being tortured speaks volumes about her... good and bad! BTW, I rather fancy "Her conflict!" as well. It makes her that much more intriguing.:thumbup Besides, what could be more human?

Yes, I should be clear about something. There is nothing wrong with possessing a fetish! Obviously, there is nothing wrong with being a fetishist. After all, I have many... including a strange "fascination with castrat.ion"!:o However, it is very much a fantasy matter, for the most part. That is, I enjoy the action in; ciney, print, and telly programmes. However, only as a consequence of self-defence or retribution for a sexual violation. In my earlier comment, re; men and or fetishists viewing matters through the lens of a fetish, I should have been specific. My point is your point, they only "seem" to focus on the pain and sadism with regard to female characters. Their characters tend to lack "The softer and more romantic!".lol

How is all the above for rambling on?:wooow

[Precis Girl]

Wow, Messalina, you got me beat in the rambling department :P but yeah, I also don't believe that a marriage is often meant to be equal, tho it can be. I think one person is a natural leader in the household, and the other one is their 'rock' or 'port in the storm'. My own family demonstrated that to me, with mom being the rock and dad being the leader, tho they would switch roles depending on the job of course (dad always ruled in the house :P)

you certainly hit the nail on the head about her finding something different! her general experience with sex was almost that of a ra-pe, tho who is doing the initiating is up for debate. the only analogy i can think of is cat sex, its angry, its messy, its painful and theres almost always a lot of blood! lol. but yeah, shes never encountered anyone else like this. in this respect shes a bit sheltered, hasnt seen a whole lot of the world outside of the messy business she's in.

Mostly my fetishes also deal exclusively in fantasy (at least that which i seek out online!) tho i admit to a guilty pleasure of the brutality and unconcerned meanness of some of the other stories, but i always feel...angry or ashamed after reading them. even tho theyre fictional characters, something feels wrong about taking pleasure out of someones misery/pain. but theres a whole different kettle of fish :D

more ramblings! but i should be done now :p

[Strange_Fool_215]

Rambling is awesome, especially when it's done by, and about, people who are themselves complete humans and not bizarre crazed caricatures.

Messalina, Precis, you're awesome. :)

[Precis Girl]

hey, i take great pride in being bizarre and a bit crazed! :p but seriously thanks, im rather enjoying this discussion!

[try]

hey, i take great pride in being bizarre and a bit crazed! :p but seriously thanks, im rather enjoying this discussion!

It is interesting! As you're not happy with formatting, you could use styles in your word processor, though I don't know if this site can show them.
As for your story, I'm enjoying it! My interest in ball busting is entirely as a part of a fight between men and omen. The nature of your story, especially the two main characters, is different from most ball busting tales, and I wonder if the fact that you're female means you come to it from a different perspective than us men. Though on the issue of the woman being portrayed as brutal in male authored ball busting tales, I'd add that I've had correspondence with a number of ladies on the subject of f/f fights, which in all cases bar one have been with a woman who sees herself as the loser, and their fantasies have been pretty violent. This is something that could be discussed at length, but the difficulty is you never know how representative those whose thoughts and fantasies you see are of the population, or even of those into a particular fetish.
Anyway, that's enough rambling for now. Keep up the good work, as long as you're enjoying writing the adventures of the Warrior. It's certianly causing enjoyment here!

[Precis Girl]

thanks, try! as far as formatting goes, its great when i write it, and when i save it, but when i try to post it here or on my blogspot page, all formatting just goes out the window. what a pain! as far as the other women being portrayed as brutal, I dont mean any offense against other authors and their stories, just that the brutality is not for me. for example, tho i did enjoy Mythical Pain's stories about the older cub and the younger girl lion (i think, and hope that is you MP!), I can't help but think, "if I were in the male's shoes after such a sadistic display, I'd have no problems sneaking into her room at night and whaling on her with a baseball bat and then trying to flee the city (or whatever the scene they're in)" to me, that kind of brutality begs for a similarly brutal response and so, I cant see the story ending without multiple murders or something to that effect happening. But hey, its supposed to be a stroke story, so I try not to bring too much realism into it lol. However, thats why I prefer to write longer stories. i love to explore not only the actual event, but also the reaction to it. I try to see what a person would do afterwards, and if there is too much violence on one end, then all i can see is darkness ahead. geez now i feel like a fool for ranting like this! no offense to anyone, especially you Mythical Pain, I really do love your stories!

[Messalina]

Hi Precis,

In my family growing up, circumstances often dictated who, played which role. Though by and large, da seemed quite content (most days) to allow mum to be the "heavy".:weryfun

"A ra-pe" is a sorry introduction to sex. "Cat sex," <shivers> "In this respect shes a bit sheltered, hasnt seen a whole lot of the world outside the messy business she's in."... how interesting. So, the wayward lad might teach our Warrior, a few things? I like the idea, of him not being a hardened brute or career marauder. Once again, thank you for presenting non stereotypes as central characters!:)

You are a cheeky lass. Piquing my curiosity re;"At least that which I seek out online!)"!:p My "Guilty pleasure" involves some of the fiction in which, betrayed wives deal (cruelly) with "cheating husbands". As with you; "But i always feel...angry or ashamed after reading them.":o

[Precis Girl]

That is hilarious Messalina! one of my own guilty pleasures is a very similar thing, except its betrayed husbands dealing cruelly with cheating wives! I'm pretty masochistic, so of course, I love being tortured thru very well written stories of cheating wives lol. And about the ra-pe, its not an introduction, thats pretty much how they always do sex! its just a really brutal society and it just so happens that the women are just as ruthless sexually as the men. Probably not the healthiest society :p

[Messalina]

Hello there,

How are you? I hope all is well with you and yours. As to your comment; I hereby affirm the response of Precis Girl. I believe the appropriate "Americanism" is; "What she said!:weryfun

Thank you, for being sweet.:)

[Messalina]

Hello Precis,

Seems, we have a number of similar kinky interests.<giggles> I do not possess a large masochistic aspect to my personality. However, it is there.lol I do seem to enjoy women using men, to punish their enemies. Example; a young abused girl (think Anne Hathaway, THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA), putting some snobbish matriarchal bitch (think Meryl Streep, same film) in her place. By means of ******* her to service, some "peasant". In other words, an ordinary working stiff. The kind of person whose mere presence, she would never likely even acknowledge, in an ordinary setting.

Yes, this was my point. She was probably introduced to sex that way. So, what we likely consider ra.pe, is fairly normal to her. Example; a man from one clan (or tribe) smiles at a woman from another. She smiles back and or says, some nice words. He grabs her and proceeds to have his way with her. It is (likely) fairly violent, as she was probably not expecting such activity, at that precise moment. In current American (and a good deal of European) society, this would be considered sexual assault. However, in your heroine's society probably not.:rolleyes:

It is likely your warrior's introduction to sex, was in similar vein. You describe brutality, as the norm in her society. My personal reaction to that, stands! I happen to think violence, is a sad way for someone to enter into the world of sex.:p

"Probably not the healthiest society"... is a gross understatement!:weryfun

[Precis Girl]

ha, I also like that scene as you described! but then i have a bit of the cuckquean fetish in me, so thats probably natural. and yes its true about the society's way of sex, except that in a similar fashion, the women are just as likely to be the ones doing the grabbing! In this vein, I'm sure my warrior is the one who initiated her first sexual experience, rather than be the one grabbed! :p

[Messalina]

Hello there,

We do seem to possess some interesting kinks.<giggles> You have named another of my very personal fetishes.<more giggles> Touche re; your protagonist's aggressive sexual nature and likely first sexual encounter! Would the appropriate "Americanism" response be, YEA, P.USSY POWER!??:D

[Precis Girl]

That sounds about right lol. Or "I have the pussy, I make the rules!" :p

[2nutbuster]

Wow....I love it! Great male vs female story.....

[Precis Girl]

Aaaand here it is, the long awaited chapter 5! After all the buildup it will probably fall flat lol. but here's hoping i still got it :p feedback please, i thrive on your comments :D



Chapter 5


The very next morning, she cleaned their camp and packed it all, watching her boy out of the corner of her eye. Even as damaged as he was now, he tried to clean up, but she could see the winces as he bent over, hear the groans as he walked. She felt pride that he still made the effort, but she also felt concern that he was still so injured. Still, she was no stranger to a male's pride and so she pretended not to hear or see his pain.

When they had finished their morning preparation, she stood in front of him and asked, "What is your name?"

"I am called Cyril." he pronounced, an odd and endearing mixture of dignity and humility. He hesitated before asking her, shyly, "And you are?"

"My name is Tamarantha." She returned, giving him a smile. "Now that the introductions are out of the way, we need to continue moving. I don't want any more surprises on our journey." He nodded his understanding.

They gathered the supplies they needed, Tamarantha carrying the bulk of it. They set off, her keeping a slow pace in consideration for her boy's bruised genitals. As they walked, she began a conversation, striving to learn more about him.

"Why were you out here? It's obvious you can't fight. You have no experience. So why are you out here robbing innocent people?" she asked abruptly. He blushed, embarrassed both at her thoughts on his fighting prowess and at what he had tried to do to the woman who was now his keeper.

"Well...I was recruited by that woman you killed, Rosella. She...I was a noble in the city of Gil Galad, until things fell apart. We were attacked in the night and they killed my family. I was lucky and got away, but I didn’t have anything. I didn’t know how to live like that so when Rose found me, it was like a dream come true. She taught me at least how to survive, but then she said we needed more. She set this whole thing up. She saw you when you were in Ciren and we were able to stay ahead of you and set up this ambush.” Cyril gulped as he told her their plans, he realized now that this was even more despicable than she had said it was.

She smiled at him and said, “I’d hardly call that an ambush. Either she wanted you dead, or she didn’t care if you died. My guess is that she considered this a win-win situation; if you had succeeded, then you were good enough to be a part of her little bandit outfit, and if you died, then she and her gang could take me soon after. The only thing that bothers me is the time. They should have gotten to us the same day, but they left us alone. Why?”

Cyril shrugged and said, “I don’t know. She told me that I could handle you, and we would meet later. Maybe she had another person to take care of?” He started looking a little green. For the first time since he had been chased out of his home, he began thinking of other people and he was ashamed to be associated with Rose and her group of thieves.

“I’m sorry!” he said abruptly, staring at the ground.

Tamarantha stopped walking and stared at him. “What’s wrong? Are you alright?” She asked.

“How can you even let me live after what we had planned for you?! Why are you so nice to me?!” Cyril cried out, distressed. He felt horrible, not a fit member of society, certainly not the man of elevated station he was supposed to be. He looked back up at her pleadingly.

She stared at him, for a moment uncomprehending his outburst. Then she realized how guilty he felt. “Before I knew anything about you and your past, I thought you were just a poor kid who got into a bad situation. Your story did little to change that opinion, and I think, with a little correction, you will be a good person. I punished you, did I not?” She asked, brushing the back of her hand against his groin and giving him a playful little smile.

Cyril flinched back from the contact and the memory of his punishment and blushed. “Yes. I am in no hurry to be corrected again!” he couldn’t look her in the eyes and stared down at the ground.

“Well, I am the wronged party, so I decided the punishment, I carried out the punishment, and you took it without complaint. Too much complaint, anyhow. So now I have the option to forgive you, and so I have.” Her voice was dry, businesslike, but her eyes were soft and held concern for him.
They stood there, with a tender moment passing between them, until she noticed and roused herself before she made a fool of herself...again.

************************************************** ************************************************** ****

She grinned slightly as she thrust her knee up into his exposed testicles again. He cried out in pain again and fell to his knees. He’ll learn, she thought.

She had been training him all day in the finer points of hand to hand combat but, no matter how many times she tried, she was unable to break him of his habit of over protecting his groin. Finally, she stumbled on the solution: imprint on him that his genitals were even less safe if he spent too much focus on protecting them. With that in mind, she began attacking him again, going for the face exclusively, and waiting for him to bring his guard up. When he refused to allow both hands up that high, she finally got fed up and threw a hard jab into his face hard enough to make him raise both hands to his face, and then she pounded his poor jewels.

She didn’t enjoy hurting him, as vulnerable as he was, but she knew firsthand the value of pain as a learning tool. She did, however, enjoy watching him overcome his pain and return to their training with renewed fire in his eyes.

This time, the sixth time she had tried and failed to make him keep his guard up, she bashed his orbs much harder than she had intended, a byproduct of her frustration. He crumpled at her feet with a cry of agony and curled into a miserable ball. Immediately, she felt remorseful for losing her temper and anger at herself for her failure as a teacher.

Tamarantha bent over and gently patted him on the back. “Let’s take a break.” She said, as she sat down next to him and pulled his head into her lap. She stroked his hair absently as she thought of how best to inform him of his mistakes. When he had quieted down and released his full body clench she gently tilted his face towards hers.

“You need to have a full body awareness of threats, little one, not just down here.” she patted his groin very lightly, watching with sadness as he flinched and tried to cover up. “So, to help you develop this, I’m going to make you a promise. I will not attack your groin during these sessions at all, no matter how open you leave yourself-” she watched his face light up, and sighed as she knew this next part was going to frighten him. “-unless you try to protect your groin. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

His face went white as she told him the terms of her promise. He nodded with a bitter look on his face and turned his head away from her. Tamarantha grabbed him and slowly turned his head back to her and she looked deep into his eyes.

“I am not doing this to try and hurt you, I’m trying to train you!” she said forcefully, wanting him to believe her. He looked troubled but swallowed and nodded.

************************************************** ************************************************** ****

“Good!” She said, striking at his face as he blocked it. The training had finally gotten through to him and he was beginning to have a better body awareness. Time to throw something unexpected at him, she thought, and launched a hard standing kick at his knee.

He dropped his torso forward and used his hands to seize her by the foot. With a grunt he yanked her leg up and flipped her off her other foot. She was surprised by his maneuver, not expecting this fairly sophisticated move from him at this stage in his training. Caught off guard, she toppled over onto her bottom. She bounced back onto her feet with a wide grin as she approached him.

“Perfect!” she shouted in glee. She had expected him to fold up and protect his manhood, but he really had been listening to her! In her jubilation, she grabbed his head and kissed him with a great smacking smooch on the lips, then she broke contact and stepped back, her eyes bright and energetic with passion at her breakthrough.

Cyril froze at the contact, frightened but aroused. When she withdrew, he impulsively stepped forward and recaptured her lips with his, kissing her with a forceful passion he had never felt before. He felt her sigh as he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue in her mouth, and emboldened by her lack of retaliation, he raised his hand to cup her breast. It was a glorious moment, feeling her firm but pliable breast in his hand, and he felt a surge of lust and love for her - a split second before her knee came thundering up and hammering his still-aching testicles.

Tamarantha was astounded at his boldness when he kissed her, and she sighed longingly into the kiss. His kiss was so very gentle, almost innocent in its timidity.. Even his tongue in her mouth felt so innocent, like he had never done this before and she almost smiled at his chastity. However, the moment she felt his hand on her breast, she immediately retaliated, a natural reflex for her being groped in a non-sexual situation (for the kiss was so innocent, she wasn’t turned on in the way she would normally have been if a man had ****** his kiss on her). Her knee rose and nailed him in the groin and she felt the expulsion of air into her mouth as he gasped at the pain. He sunk to his knees in front of her as she gaped at her own mistake.

************************************************** ************************************************** ****


“I said I was sorry!” she whined at Cyril as they trudged along. Tamarantha heard the whine in her own voice and cringed inwardly at it. When had she become so soft?

She was following behind him, partly because she was letting him lead in a subconscious effort to allow him his manhood back, but also so she could keep an eye and ear out for trackers. She was watching for signs of ambush when she heard him whisper something that escaped her. She turned back to him.

“What did you say?” she asked softly.

“Why did you do that to me?” he asked her in a whispery voice. “What did I do wrong?” He sounded forlorn.

“You didn’t do anything wrong! Do I look like the kind of person who apologizes when I don’t mean it?” She asked, somewhat annoyed. He shook his head but kept his head down and his eyes pointed at the ground. “It was my fault. You see…” she sighed. This would take some explaining.

“This is going to take some time, let’s find a place to sit.” She said and pointed to an outcropping of rocks and trees. He nodded and they began walking toward it. While they walked, she thought about what to say, and began talking to him.

“My culture is not as soft as the people around here are.” She gave a dismissive wave of her hand in the direction of the city they had come from.

“We...we prize fighting spirit as well as prowess, and from the age we can walk, we’re taught how to wield weapons and how to fight with them, and without them. We all get into fights as children and those fights can leave us badly hurt sometimes.” Her eyes took on a distant cast as she thought back to her own childhood.

“When it comes to...sexual...interactions, we’re forceful, we take what we want and if the person being taken doesn’t want it, they fight back. I didn’t expect your kiss-” she was interrupted as he blurted out, “But you kissed me first!”

She blushed. “Yes, but it wasn’t meant as sexual. I was excited that I had finally gotten through to you! And when you kissed me back, it was so gentle...so tentative...that I didn’t feel anything sexual in it. But when you touched my body, instinct took over. I wasn’t feeling sexual, so, of course I didn’t want to be taken!” She stopped when she noticed the look in his eye. He looked devastated, almost heart broken.

“What?” She asked, perplexed at his look.

“No...nothing.” he stammered, too embarrassed to tell her that his kiss was as passionate as he had ever felt.

They arrived at the rock outcropping and they seated themselves. Tamarantha took a quick scout around, before drawing her sword and placing it across her knees, as she sank down, cross-legged on her chosen rock. Cyril sat himself down rather gingerly, not eager to cause any unnecessary bumps and bruises.

Tamarantha took out her sharpening stone and began running it along the edge of her blade, both a force of habit and a tic she had when nervous. She kept her eyes to her blade as she began talking again.

“You are so...different from any of my people!” She colored as she said this, stubbornly not looking up. “The men of my culture are big and warlike, as are the women. I was the runt of my family. My brothers and sisters are over a head taller than I. Thus, I was tested every day, from those who believed I was unfit to be a warrior, and those looking to fight a lesser opponent as practice. I learned fast, and I grew up to be faster and stronger than those around me. I take no prisoners. I do not deal in mercy. Why did I save you? I don’t know.”

She continued to talk, and Cyril was perceptive enough to realize she wasn’t even talking to him, but rather to herself. He understood that she had encountered a dilemma in her life and was trying to work it out.

“When I first saw you, you looked pitiful, a child wandered away from his mother and playing at fighting, fully expecting his mother to arrive and protect him from whatever trouble he had found.” Her analogy was apt enough to make Cyril blush. Hadn’t he expected Rosella to help him out?

“I should have killed you. You are not a child, and you knew the consequences of your actions. If it had been anyone else, I would have run you through with my blade without a second thought.” she said absently. She tested the edge and, satisfied with it, she put the stone away, and grabbed a vial of liquid and a rag from her bag. She then withdrew a small saucer and dumped the liquid in it. Dipping the rag into the liquid, she began rubbing her sword down, polishing it almost lovingly. She did all this distractedly, from long habit.

“But, there is something about you. Even now I don’t know what truly spared your life. But after I began your punishment, I noticed that, though you do not have a warrior’s body or skill, you do possess a great warrior’s spirit. Even beaten down as you were, you rose up. You only quit because I am an expert at causing pain. I am glad you submitted. I did not want to hurt you more.” She looked up briefly into his eyes, before returning to her polishing.

“You are nothing like my people, except that you do not surrender. You are gentle. This is very new to me. I have met gentle people before but never truly interacted with one before. You scare me.” She had continued to talk in a troubled, preoccupied tone, but when her last words were spoken her eyes widened in horror. With an effort she smoothed out her face and looked at him, trying to gauge his reaction.

Cyril heard her declaration and looked up, startled, and saw her reaction. He smiled briefly before using his only real skill, his diplomacy. “Why do you polish your weapon?” he asked, trying smoothly to divert the conversation to save her embarrassment. “It looks clean enough to me.”

She smiled and hefted her weapon, pointing it at him and staring along the blade edge into his face. “The oils protect against rust. Blood and sweat from humans decay a weapon fast if left untended. I do not want my weapon broken or dulled by lack of maintenance.” She withdrew her sword and placed it back into the scabbard with a loud click.

“Are you able to travel more?” She asked, her eyes dropping briefly to his groin. He nodded, blushing.

“Then let us be off. If we are lucky, we can reach that small copse of trees and have shelter.” Tamarantha pointed off at the horizon. Cyril looked at the distance and flinched. Every step chafed his groin, and the bouncing caused his orbs to ache. But he nodded and they set off.

************************************************** ************************************************** ****

They did make it to the trees by nightfall, but Cyril was in a bad way by then, bent nearly double at the pain in his groin. Tamarantha, worried for his health, immediately set up the camp and told him to rest, as she scouted out some berries and ferns that, when mashed up, would make a rudimentary topical analgesic. She returned, and shortly had a paste that she took to Cyril.

“What is that?” he asked dully, only really aware of it when she thrust it in his face.

“It is a salve to soothe your pains. It will help you with your injuries.” She replied, smiling at him tentatively.

“I am fine!” he said gruffly, embarrassed at his weakened state, especially after her description of the men of her society. He did not want to seem weak to her.

“No, you are not! Lie down, and I will apply this to you, since you don’t want to do it yourself!” She said indignantly. I went to all the trouble to make this for you, you damn well better use it! she thought.

Cyril looked horrified at the suggestion and tried to take the salve from Tamarantha, but she was having none of it. She pushed him down with one arm and told him to loosen his belt. One look at her face and he was too afraid to disobey her and he undid his belt with trembling fingers. She tugged his pants down around his knees and surveyed his groin. The damage looked to be less severe than before, the swelling down quite a bit, and the bruising even looked somewhat lighter. They were still red and chapped, though. She smiled, looking at his manhood again.

It always looks so harmless, it really does look appealing. She thought, before seeing his eyes on her and quickly wiping the smile from her face. She blushed brightly and quickly gathered up a palmful of the salve and smeared it on his genitals. She spread it along his thighs as well, and onto his penis and above. She could not stop the grin from resurfacing as his penis sprang into an erection at her ministrations. She placed extra salve on the sack itself, hoping to alleviate the pain. She then wiped her hands clean and slowly worked his pants back up into place.

Cyril tried to will himself not to have an erection as she oh-so-gently rubbed his manhood, but he failed miserably. He looked away, not wanting to see her critical eye upon his meager goods. He had always known he was a small man down there, but after hearing of her warrior culture, he could only imagine that whatever they had between their legs was far superior to his own.

“Get some rest, Cyril. That salve will work on you through the night. By tomorrow, you should be well enough for more travelling.” She said briskly, trying to sound casual.

Cyril turned onto his side and lay there, hoping she wouldn’t say any more. Eventually, though, his conscious got the better of him and he whispered, “Thank you.”

Tamarantha, also lying down, waiting for sleep to take her, heard it and smiled in the darkness.

************************************************** ************************************************** ****

Cyril lay on his side, curled into the fetal position, groaning as waves of pain caused his stomach to knot in cramps, the groans low and guttural, only easing as the pain receded. Then he would take a deep breath before the next wave would hit and he would groan again.

Tamarantha watched him helplessly from her bedroll. She couldn’t think of much to do, a warrior would want to be left alone to deal with pain. A memory came to her of being sick as a child, crying out in pain and discomfort. Her father, a great big brute of a man, was lying next to her in bed, stroking her back calmly, as he held her to him. Even through the pain of her fever, she felt safe in his arms and was comforted.

As the memory faded, she knew what to do. She got up silently, and padded over to him, easing back his covers and sliding in behind him. He groaned again and turned his head to see what was going on but she turned his head back firmly but gently with one hand as she pulled the covers back over them. She placed one arm around him and slowly stroked from his chest to his stomach, gently. She felt him relax a little but then another cramp struck and she felt his belly muscles turn stony. She kept her hand on his stomach, massaging it with firm pressure as the cramp eased. She held him until she heard his breathing even out and he dropped to sleep. She went to move away, but she rather enjoyed feeling him in her arms, small and fragile. Unable to help herself, her hand drifted lower, easing into his pants and cupping his swollen genitals. She wondered at her own fascination with him and his manhood. As she pondered, sleep crept up on her like a thief in the night, and before she knew it, she was asleep.

[mrwasdman]

Great, as always!

[try]

Very interesting, Precis Girl, how you're building a relationship between the characters. Some of my fantasies involve a relationship between a man and a girl who busts him. If you look here,
http://femaledom.com/forum/showthread.php?17631-First-ball-busting-experience/page2
post 20, a message of mine, about a girl accidentally kicking me in the balls, and our reaction, is quoted by another poster who makes an interesting comment. Post 21 is where I make some observations of how ball busting fantasies often involve more than simply girl kicks man in groin. I think you'll find it interesting.

[Precis Girl]

Yes, try, your fantasy that you described is parallel to my own, i love the idea of a woman hurting a man, but being compassionate about it, and finding fault within herself for using such tactics! dont ask me why! :p

I can also sympathize with your personal experience, but with the gender roles reversed! I was hit in the groin by my brother once, during a sparring session and was dropped as fast as a man would have been. it was rather humbling to feel such pain and delivered so easily! also, add to that the fact that i was completely unaware that i could be hurt in the same way, and you have a recipe for disaster! so yeah, i was the one almost crying on the ground and my brother was the one fussing over me, lol i feel your pain...kinda!

[try]

You're not the only woman to be surprised that a blow to a female crotch hurts. Guys are aware of the tenderness of their balls because, being external, every man gets the occasional accidental blow to them, like from a football for example.
And I wonder why I like the idea of a woman hitting me in the balls, and then fussing over me. Strange creatures, us humans!:)