hoopdescoop
03-30-2020, 08:19 PM
This is a work in progress. Feel free to guess who's going to end up winning the match ;)
“You win,” he squeaked meekly, his voice several octaves higher and weaker than the tough growling bravado he had touted just a few minutes before.
Her knee was still buried deeply in his groin. She had pistoned it up between his legs with blinding force, eliciting a solid, resounding crunch as it smashed his most tender organs against his pelvis. The crowd let out a long sympathetic “Oooooooohhhhhh” as the blow struck home. Brad squealed, his cry ululating like a tea kettle. He had actually heard the crunch. So had she.
“Huh, I thought that only happened in movies,” Lindsay said to him. She smiled into his eyes, which had begun to cross and fill with tears.
Excited titters swept through the crowd of students watching the fight: “Holy shit, I actually heard them!” “That has gotta hurt!” “I felt that one and I don’t even have balls!” Neither does Brad anymore!”
"Foul!" Cried Mark, Brad's toadie and assistant captain of the school's boxing club. "She hit below the belt!"
Lindsay, whose knee was still planted firmly between Brad's legs, scoffed. Brad, meanwhile, let out another high-pitched whine and collapsed, his torso draped around Lindsay's pretty thigh.
"That rule only applies to boy's boxing!" Lindsay protested. "This is a battle of the sexes. To see who's stronger: boys or girls."
"But that's not fair!" Mark whined. Lindsay noticed that the other boy's knees were also turned inward, as if in sympathy pains for the scrambled eggs of his captain.
"It seems fair to me," said Ms. Buckley. The pretty, young P.E. teacher stood ringside, watching the fight. It had been rather one-sided thus far, with Lindsay lacing the male fighter with three consecutive punches and following it up with that devastating knee. The crunch had been music to her ears, topped only by the arrogant boy's soprano submission. Guess he's rethinking who the tougher sex is now.
"Like Lindsay said," continued Ms. Buckley, "this was a contest to see who was stronger, boys or girls. Brad seemed quite confident a minute ago that boys were superior, so it only seems fair that blows to areas exclusive to one gender be allowed. What do you think Brad?"
The boy only let out a long, squealing EEEEEEEEE in response, Lindsay's feminine knee still mashing his tender nuts mercilessly into his pelvis.
"Oopsies," said Lindsay, smiling coyly. "Looks like Brad is having trouble answering. Coach asked you a question, State Champ," she teased, lowering her leg slightly. Brad gasped and another wince came from the audience as their prized fighter, who had so confidently boasted "Girls can't box!" just moments before, came down off his tiptoes. Lindsay swiftly grabbed a handful of the boy's hair before he could collapse to the canvas.
"So, Brad, would you say that my strike was effective?" asked Lindsay, smiling as she turned the boy to face the crowd of his classmates. He dangled from her grasp, his knees just barely off the canvas and his hands doing their best to cup his aching plums through his boxing gloves. He had never been hit so hard, in all his years of boxing. In fact, he’d never been put on the mat by an opponent. He was undefeated and the state boxing champ, but Lindsay, the petite gymnastics star, now had him clutching his most delicate appendages and squealing like a little girl. In front of half the senior class!
A sea of blushing female faces looked on as he swung by his hair from Linday’s grasp, alongside a collection of wincing boys, uneasy about the humiliation and emasculation of their one-time hero at the hands (and knees) of the beautiful young lady now propping him up like a marionette.
"I asked you a question, Brad!" Lindsay repeated, yanking his hair. The champion boxer yelped pathetically. “Did my knee hurt?”
Brad nodded urgently. Giggles spread across the audience from the onlooking girls.
“But you said I was too weak to box, remember? Because I’m a girl. Our bodies are too weak. Remember?” Lindsay twisted the boy’s hair, loving the groans and squeaks she elicited. Ms. Buckley hid her giggling face behind her clipboard, but Lindsay caught sight of the coach’s reaction and received a newfound boost of confidence.
“It seems like the pain you’re in is something unique to boys, no?” Lindsay cooed.
“Please,” Brad sobbed. “You win. I give. I give!” This brought about a cheer from the girls in the crowd and a dejected sigh from the boys.
“Oh, come on, man!” Mark roared. “She’s just a girl! Kick her ass!”
“Just a girl?” Lindsay fumed, yanking Brad onto his tiptoes once more. The boy screamed and whined.
From ringside, Ms. Buckley rang the bell. She flashed Lindsay a quick smile and a wink. “I think that’s the end of round one. Lindsay 1, Brad 0.”
“Round one?!” Brad asked in a bout of panic.
“Well, yes, you submitted. That’s one-nothing girls. We’re going to three, just like you wanted,” said Ms. Buckley with a mischievous grin. She couldn’t wait to see Lindsay land a few more nut-splitting blows on this cocky jerk.
“But I give up!” Brad pleaded. “She wins!”
“Exactly. Lindsay wins this round,” Ms. Buckey responded. “Decisively, I’d say.” The girls laughed again. “But you were adamant on three rounds, remember? Lindsay only wanted one, but you said you wanted to ‘really work her over’ and, what was it? Oh yes, ‘put the bitch in her place.’” She smiled her cruelest smile into the boy’s tearful eyes. “Thirty seconds to recover and then it’s round two. Oh, and so we’re all clear,” she looked deep into Brad’s eyes, “no blows are illegal.” All the color drained from the boy’s face and he began to whimper.
“Yes!” Lindsay exclaimed, letting go of Brad’s hair. The boy slammed, face-first, into the canvas, his gloved hands still wrapped firmly around his groin as he lay sniveled into the mat. “See you in thirty, State Champ. We’re gonna really hit some high notes in the next round,” Lindsay said, leaning down over her prostrate opponent. She then bounced off to her corner, all smiles, her pert breasts jiggling in her pink sports bra.
“Get up, Brad, you’re embarrassing us!” Mark seethed through the ropes. Brad didn’t lift his face from the canvas. “She’s a girl! A girl!! And she’s kicking your ass. It’s humiliating.”
Other boys now joined in, attempting to rally their champion. “Yeah, kick her ass, Brad! You’re the state champ!”
“You’ve never lost a fight!”
Somehow, Brad managed to get his knees beneath him. Slowly, he found his feet. His balls still throbbed, but the acute pain was now abating.
“Kick her fucking ass,” Mark told him. Brad slammed his gloved fists together.
They were right. She’s just a girl. He was going to smash her pretty face to dust.
Ding! Ding!
Ms. Buckley rang the bell and round two was underway (much sooner than Brad could have anticipated). Lindsay bounced lightly on the balls of her feet as she approached him at center ring from her corner.
“You win,” he squeaked meekly, his voice several octaves higher and weaker than the tough growling bravado he had touted just a few minutes before.
Her knee was still buried deeply in his groin. She had pistoned it up between his legs with blinding force, eliciting a solid, resounding crunch as it smashed his most tender organs against his pelvis. The crowd let out a long sympathetic “Oooooooohhhhhh” as the blow struck home. Brad squealed, his cry ululating like a tea kettle. He had actually heard the crunch. So had she.
“Huh, I thought that only happened in movies,” Lindsay said to him. She smiled into his eyes, which had begun to cross and fill with tears.
Excited titters swept through the crowd of students watching the fight: “Holy shit, I actually heard them!” “That has gotta hurt!” “I felt that one and I don’t even have balls!” Neither does Brad anymore!”
"Foul!" Cried Mark, Brad's toadie and assistant captain of the school's boxing club. "She hit below the belt!"
Lindsay, whose knee was still planted firmly between Brad's legs, scoffed. Brad, meanwhile, let out another high-pitched whine and collapsed, his torso draped around Lindsay's pretty thigh.
"That rule only applies to boy's boxing!" Lindsay protested. "This is a battle of the sexes. To see who's stronger: boys or girls."
"But that's not fair!" Mark whined. Lindsay noticed that the other boy's knees were also turned inward, as if in sympathy pains for the scrambled eggs of his captain.
"It seems fair to me," said Ms. Buckley. The pretty, young P.E. teacher stood ringside, watching the fight. It had been rather one-sided thus far, with Lindsay lacing the male fighter with three consecutive punches and following it up with that devastating knee. The crunch had been music to her ears, topped only by the arrogant boy's soprano submission. Guess he's rethinking who the tougher sex is now.
"Like Lindsay said," continued Ms. Buckley, "this was a contest to see who was stronger, boys or girls. Brad seemed quite confident a minute ago that boys were superior, so it only seems fair that blows to areas exclusive to one gender be allowed. What do you think Brad?"
The boy only let out a long, squealing EEEEEEEEE in response, Lindsay's feminine knee still mashing his tender nuts mercilessly into his pelvis.
"Oopsies," said Lindsay, smiling coyly. "Looks like Brad is having trouble answering. Coach asked you a question, State Champ," she teased, lowering her leg slightly. Brad gasped and another wince came from the audience as their prized fighter, who had so confidently boasted "Girls can't box!" just moments before, came down off his tiptoes. Lindsay swiftly grabbed a handful of the boy's hair before he could collapse to the canvas.
"So, Brad, would you say that my strike was effective?" asked Lindsay, smiling as she turned the boy to face the crowd of his classmates. He dangled from her grasp, his knees just barely off the canvas and his hands doing their best to cup his aching plums through his boxing gloves. He had never been hit so hard, in all his years of boxing. In fact, he’d never been put on the mat by an opponent. He was undefeated and the state boxing champ, but Lindsay, the petite gymnastics star, now had him clutching his most delicate appendages and squealing like a little girl. In front of half the senior class!
A sea of blushing female faces looked on as he swung by his hair from Linday’s grasp, alongside a collection of wincing boys, uneasy about the humiliation and emasculation of their one-time hero at the hands (and knees) of the beautiful young lady now propping him up like a marionette.
"I asked you a question, Brad!" Lindsay repeated, yanking his hair. The champion boxer yelped pathetically. “Did my knee hurt?”
Brad nodded urgently. Giggles spread across the audience from the onlooking girls.
“But you said I was too weak to box, remember? Because I’m a girl. Our bodies are too weak. Remember?” Lindsay twisted the boy’s hair, loving the groans and squeaks she elicited. Ms. Buckley hid her giggling face behind her clipboard, but Lindsay caught sight of the coach’s reaction and received a newfound boost of confidence.
“It seems like the pain you’re in is something unique to boys, no?” Lindsay cooed.
“Please,” Brad sobbed. “You win. I give. I give!” This brought about a cheer from the girls in the crowd and a dejected sigh from the boys.
“Oh, come on, man!” Mark roared. “She’s just a girl! Kick her ass!”
“Just a girl?” Lindsay fumed, yanking Brad onto his tiptoes once more. The boy screamed and whined.
From ringside, Ms. Buckley rang the bell. She flashed Lindsay a quick smile and a wink. “I think that’s the end of round one. Lindsay 1, Brad 0.”
“Round one?!” Brad asked in a bout of panic.
“Well, yes, you submitted. That’s one-nothing girls. We’re going to three, just like you wanted,” said Ms. Buckley with a mischievous grin. She couldn’t wait to see Lindsay land a few more nut-splitting blows on this cocky jerk.
“But I give up!” Brad pleaded. “She wins!”
“Exactly. Lindsay wins this round,” Ms. Buckey responded. “Decisively, I’d say.” The girls laughed again. “But you were adamant on three rounds, remember? Lindsay only wanted one, but you said you wanted to ‘really work her over’ and, what was it? Oh yes, ‘put the bitch in her place.’” She smiled her cruelest smile into the boy’s tearful eyes. “Thirty seconds to recover and then it’s round two. Oh, and so we’re all clear,” she looked deep into Brad’s eyes, “no blows are illegal.” All the color drained from the boy’s face and he began to whimper.
“Yes!” Lindsay exclaimed, letting go of Brad’s hair. The boy slammed, face-first, into the canvas, his gloved hands still wrapped firmly around his groin as he lay sniveled into the mat. “See you in thirty, State Champ. We’re gonna really hit some high notes in the next round,” Lindsay said, leaning down over her prostrate opponent. She then bounced off to her corner, all smiles, her pert breasts jiggling in her pink sports bra.
“Get up, Brad, you’re embarrassing us!” Mark seethed through the ropes. Brad didn’t lift his face from the canvas. “She’s a girl! A girl!! And she’s kicking your ass. It’s humiliating.”
Other boys now joined in, attempting to rally their champion. “Yeah, kick her ass, Brad! You’re the state champ!”
“You’ve never lost a fight!”
Somehow, Brad managed to get his knees beneath him. Slowly, he found his feet. His balls still throbbed, but the acute pain was now abating.
“Kick her fucking ass,” Mark told him. Brad slammed his gloved fists together.
They were right. She’s just a girl. He was going to smash her pretty face to dust.
Ding! Ding!
Ms. Buckley rang the bell and round two was underway (much sooner than Brad could have anticipated). Lindsay bounced lightly on the balls of her feet as she approached him at center ring from her corner.