Balloney
04-22-2025, 09:06 AM
Beatrice was hot. She was really on a winning streak-- every high school wrestling match this year. She didn't look like a wrestler. She wasn't stout of frame. She wasn't short or wide. In fact, she had an hourglass figure, a bit like Marilyn Monroe's, but more like a young Jill Ireland, with a similar hair color. Her face was a bit like Jill Ireland's and Audrey Hepburn's-- delicate features. She looked more like a movie star than a female wrestler. At 6'5", in spite of not being fat or husky, she was in the top weight class.
One of the secrets of Beatrice' success was her strong grip. She found that if she exerted extreme force with thumb or finger digging into her opponent's flesh, the other girl would be more inclined to move in the direction Beatrice wanted. She would practice squeezing hand grips. Recently, she'd taken to cracking walnuts, taking two in her hand and crushing one against another. She could crack a pecan between finger and thumb or between her middle and ring finger and the palm of her hand. She could take two pecans and crack them fairly easily using these techniques. This kind of practiced helped her greatly defeat her opponents in wrestling.
Beatrice hadn't always been an athletic success. She was from a broken home, bounced around from foster home to foster home from the age of five, carrying her things in a plastic bag. At the age of twelve, the son of foster parents, a boy her same age, had attacked her and taken away her innocence. She doesn't talk about it, but let's say more than one orifice was in great pain afterward. The boy threatened if she were to tell anyone, he would find her and repeat what he'd done to her, and do the same to her other female friends in the foster home. He also told her that he did it because she'd been giving off signals that she wanted it, and had dressed in a way that would invite boys to do that to her. This left her confused, frustrated, and angry. After the assault, she resolved that she would not be a victim. Then her friends told her about a boy's weak spot. When she felt harassed by boys in foster homes or at school, she would go for the gonads. In fact, she'd been kicked out of a foster home for grabbing a boy. She almost went to court for sexual assault over that. She didn't really feel bad about it. Beatrice was a little lacking in feeling. Honestly, she was bit of a psycopath.
Her current foster parents had had her in the house for three years. Even though she was 18, they still allowed her to stay in their home as she finished out the school year. Colleges were interested in recruiting her for women's wrestling. Her foster parents had taught her to direct her energy away from violence and into sports. They'd given her some good moral instruction, and she knew not to attack a man's package unless it were life or death. She might do it also if she were about to be raped. Beatrice also played the guitar. She had her own method of playing, hitting the strings with her pinky. Using superglue and baking soda, she'd turned her right pinkie into a durable guitar pick. She could play songs by ear, and one school was interested in giving her a free ride for guitar.
Her team was traveling to Massachusetts to compete against another undefeated team. On that team, their star player was Pat. Pat is short for Patricia. It's funny to say short, because Patricia, who used to be called Patrick, and he was 6'2". Patricia kept winning wrestling matches against girls in the top weight class. As a trans individual, Patricia had become a hero for supporters of the LGBT movement. He would walk through crowds of protesters chanting 'Trans rights are human rights', who clapped for him. He enjoyed the attention, but that is not why he went trans.
As Patrick entered high school, he was having difficulty getting a girlfriend. He had these strong sexual urges, and he knew if he didn't satisfy them with a willing girlfriend, he was just going to satisfy them with a girl who wasn't willing, but that was a last resort, according to his warped thinking... unless the girl was really hot and she wasn't interested.... then he might consider it. He'd gotten into some legal trouble with a foster girl in the past, but good lawyers had kept him out of court.
After having watched the news about trans teens, talk from 'woke' children in the LGBT movement in his school, and several Tik Tok videos, Patrick got to thinking. He overheard some female wrestlers talk about using the showers after a match. He'd seen showers in the locker room, but no one used them after PE class. If he joined the girl's wrestling team, he could wrestle with them. Most of the girls had bodies like a minifridge, but a few of the girls were really hot. One had a beautiful face, and a lanky, but still feminine form, and the other was his favorite-- a tall curvy girl with a Marilyn Monroe type figure.
Patrick hatched his plan. He would declare himself to be transgender-- a female cross-dressing lesbian. That means he could be a 'girl', like girls since he's a 'lesbian', and dress like a boy. Since he lived in a liberal town in Massachusetts, school officials applauded him for being brave. Even though the team had already been selected, they made a special exception to let him wrestle. He knew nothing of wrestling, but as a fit gym rat of a male, he quickly learned to out-wrestle other girls. A few parents protested when they found out he was rubbing his body all over their daughters' bodies, but the teachers, school board, and parents treated them like a pariah for attacking a vulnerable trans person, and accused the parents of being responsible for the suicides of trans teens. This shut the parents up. Two sets of parents withdrew their teens from wrestling, but these girls were too stout for Pat's tastes, so he did not care if they left, so he told the school to stop persecuting them for dropping out.
Patricia now had his access to the shower after girl's wrestling practice, but the hourglass figure girl and the hot lanky girl would not shower, and went home sweaty. All that were left were a few woke girls with mini-fridge shaped bodies. It was a bit arousing to see these females, but not completely satisfying. They would occasionally giggle at his erections in the shower. Patricia figured if he couldn't have the hot girls, maybe he could temporarily slake his thirst with one of the minifridges. So he would flirt, talk about sex, touch them a bit. Patricia was a groomer. It came naturally to him, and he'd actually studied how groomers groom their victims by watching YouTube videos to get some ideas.
After a while, Patricia started winning matches, and he decided to embrace the trans look a bit more to be a more credible male in female wrestling. He grew out his hair and wore eyeliner. Many in the media cheered him as a hero to trans youth. Conservatives complained about him, especially after a female opponent's neck was fractured as he pinned her. He didn't feel bad about it. She put herself at risk by playing the game. In fact, the girl was a pretty good wrestler, and he was a bit proud that he'd put such a hurting on her. Honestly, he was a bit of psychopath. Patricia figured he'd ride this trans wrestler thing out to see if he could get some scholarships out of it. Maybe the naked girls in a university shower could look a little better, and maybe he could get a steady supply of what he was looking for without having to risk getting in trouble by just taking it... which he could as a powerful wrestler. he had with a couple of drunk girls, who he had persuaded in the morning to think it was consensual. Again, Patricia was a bit of a psychopath.
Media attention included online interviews. In one interview, Patricia stated that he didn't know for sure if he had the courage to go full trans physically, but he was considering it. Honestly he knew he had no interest in it.
His team was going up against another undefeated team. He couldn't believe his eyes when he saw this tall, elegant movie star with tights on the opposing team. He couldn't weight to rub his body all over hers. And other teammates were quite attractive as well. He didn't get the curvy movie star girl at first. Instead he got a slightly smaller girl, still in the top weight class. He handled her well. She was like a little puppet in his hands. He got cocky and decided to do wrestling moves that simulated lewd acts, including a 'doggy' move.
Beatrice was getting angry. This tall, strong man had humiliated her friend, feigning a lewd act on her. This was women's wrestling, not men's wrestling! Beatrice was already irritated by the idiots in politics, the news, and in schools who were stupid enough to think that if a boy claimed to be a girl, that that made him a girl. She knew that a man who got his balls chopped off and replaced by a fake vagina was really a male eunuch with a fake vagina. She could see that this boy had balls, rather large ones, because they bulged through his shorts. In fact, if she wanted, she could grab them. She'd learned that in the past, that even through tight shorts she could isolate a pair of testicles, pulling them a bit away from the body, and squeeze them. She could see how to easily do that with this big Patricia dude.
After several matches, Patricia wrestled another of Beatrice friends. This time, he used the same move that he'd used to break the neck of that other wrestler. Beatrice' friend was carried off on a stretcher, but since Patricia hadn't broken any rules, he was still in the game.
During one of the matches, a girl on Beatrice' team had caught a shin to the groin. A debate between coaches and referees had arisen over this issue. The coach noticed a restriction against hitting girls in the 'vulva.' The rules were explicit, disgustingly so. A left-wing organization, an evil 'charity', that had written the explicit sex ed program had also been given the right to contribute to the rules for sports, so rules now forbade explicit sex acts and mentioned sexual parts in details. Since the rules forbade contact with the vulva or clitoris, the coach pointed out that it did not say 'crotch', just these specific parts to the ref and other team's coach. This wasn't related to the debate at all.
The coach sat down next to Beatrice and showed her the rules. He said, "Pardon my French, but the rules do not forbid hitting, grabbing, or squeezing a man's testicles. That Pat dude over there broke your friend's neck. I just wanted to point out what the rules said, and what they didn't say. I've trained you well, and how you fight in the next round is up to you.
Beatrice knew what she would do. She would grab this boy by the sack and take him down as roughly as she knew how. She'd seen the smirk before he injured her friend. She'd seen him simulate lewd acts until just before time went out with her friend, then pinned her friend. She looked at Patrick, and he looked at her. He looked familiar. As their eyes met, she realized he was a very good-looking fellow. She'd never dated anyone. She didn't know if she could after that assault when she was twelve. Then she realized why he looked so familiar. Pat was the name of the boy who'd assaulted her. This was that boy! This was her r@pist!
The match started and after dancing around a bit Patricia's succesfully reaches for a hold, but Beatrice reaches for Patricia's testicles. She managed to get thumb and forefinger between testicles and his body. Patrick lost his hold on Beatrice as his hands covered hers, which clenched his testicles. Beatrice slides right between his legs, without breaking the hold. After all the moves, the audience saw quite a spectacle, Patricia bent all the way over, leaning over on his left hand, with his right hand barely touching Beatrice hand, which firmly gripped his testicles. Pat was so distracted by the pain, she had lifted him up, scooted between his legs, pulling him to a bent over standing position by the ball-cords. She stood behind him, holding his testicles in hand. He was powerless. It was a pitiful, ridiculous, and obscene sight.
Patricia didn't know if he could endure this. This gorgeous giant woman had a grip on his testicles. each testicle was very firmly compressed, not just with regular testicle pain like getting kicked in the nuts, but with a stronger, tighter type of compression that was dizzying. He was overcome by fear.
Patricia's coach argued with the referee, who pointed out to the coach that no contact had been made with the wrestlers vulva or clitoris.
Standing behind Patricia, Beatrice now did not have to worry about him fighting back. He could do nothing, and she had more than two and a half minutes yet. She thought she should be full of anger about the past events, but she didn't really feel much. Her mind went into a cool, calculating mode. How could she do the most damage possible to the man who had assaulted her--stealing her virtue and innocence.. her youthful virginity, who had sexually humiliated her friend in public, who had broken her friend's neck. She remembered her walnut and pecan cracking practice. Using her left hand, she carefully positioned Patricia's nuts in her hands. She got his right testicle firmly between her index finger and palm with pressure from her palm also. She positioned his left nut between her ring and index fingers and the palm of her hand. With all of her might, she squeezed, but these nuts were tough and wouldn't crack like a couple of pecans.
Patricia could feel his testicles being painfully positioned while still under great pressure.... then the super-squeeze. He began to feel woozy and wanted to pass out. As he looked up, he could see and hear a great stir in the crowd.
The crowd was full of high school students. Some were nauseous. Some of the boys looked kind of green and were shifty uncomfortably as they sat on the bleachers, blocking their crotches with their hands. But many had started to chant, "Crush his nuts! Crush his nuts! Crush his nuts!"
But others in the audience were upset, and some of Pat's minifridge-shaped were outraged that their teammate was being misgendered, rose to his defense. So they stood up and started chanting, "Crush HER nuts! Crush HER nuts!" Groups of people were facing off at each other in the stand, with some yelling 'Crush HER nuts!' and others yelling, 'Crush HIS nuts!'. Pat caught a glimpse of this, distressed that the whole audience seemed to be in agreement that his testicles should be crushed.
For Pat, it felt like the only thing in the universe was the pain in his testicles, that and keeping himself in position so as not to rip them off by passing out and falling forward, but he did catch the chanting in the crowd. He felt so betrayed by his mini-fridge-shaped female friends chanting for his manual **********, and the rest of the crowd delighting in his suffering. But these thoughts and feelings of betrayal faded as the physical pain consistently intensified.
Beatrice decided what she was doing was boring so she managed to muster up a stronger pulsating squeeze, which caused Pat to gasp, squeeze, and scream from the torture she was inflicting on him. She held a 'base' super-strong squeeze that was excruciating, adding these sharper, more severe squeezes, two every second. With a minute and a half left, she held him, pulsating like this for about 40 seconds. Slowly and deliberate, she slides between his legs, still holding his testicles, now in a twisted upside-down position As she pins him, she says, "Remember me? You evil child-******." And Pat did remember her, and his fear for his balls grew. His heart raced. He was terrified.
Just before Beatrice got his limp compliant body into position to be pinned, she remembered her strong guitar pick pinkie nail. She pressed it into Pat's left testicle.
"Do you remember you said in that interview that you didn't have the courage to decide to go all the way with your transgender **********? Well, I decided to help you out with that decision."
Beatrice addressed the crowd loudly "I want you to here a confession from this young man."
Pierced tattooed girls in the audience hissed in shock and outrage that they would dare call Pat a man.
Beatrice continued, "Many years ago, when I was just a child, this man r@ped me. Now listen to him confess." Away from the microphone she leaned over and muttered in Pat's ear, "Confess now or I'll will yank this ball out of you by the cord.", and she yanked it just a bit to add an unsettling sperm cord pain into his abdomen along with the crushing.
The nut pain was so intense he could barely speak, but Pat managed to squeak out, "Yes, I r*aped her, but we were just children."
Beatrice responded in triumph to the crowd, "She, he confessed. He r*ped me!"
She looked at the crowd expecting empathy and compassion. But the crowd fell silent.
Instead, one of Pat's mini-fridge shaped teammates with her blue hair, tattoos, and nose rings, stood up and said with outrage and disgust, "How dare you say that! SHE r*ped you!"
So the local students stand up and begin to chant, in defense of the trans wrestler they were so proud of, defending him from 'misgendering,' They chanted, "SHE r*ped you. SHE r*ped you SHE r*ped you."
But the visiting students from her school opposed them with their chant. "HE r*ped you. HE r*ped you. HE r*ped you."
Beatrice muttered to herself, "What idiots."
Then, she took her other hand and applied the maximum pressure that she could, causing Pat to vomit nasty bile. She pushed his face into it and rubbed it around. She positioned her extra strong pinkie finger and poked it into the less-damaged testicle, piercing through a layer, then another, deep into the testicular tubules. Then, grabbing the other testicle, she squeezed them together with two hands. Contents of both testicles now quickly filled Pat's sack.
Pat passed out, being held up by Beatrice' grip on his nut sack, and as the testicles deflated, he slipped from her grip. Quickly, as he fell with a thud, he regained consciousness as Beatrice tried to pin him. Though in great pain, he was filled with anger. With great force he grabbed Beatrice. Using the move he used previously to crack her friend's neck, he pinned her to the ground. He was, after all a man, and stronger than she was. Well, he was a eunuch, but his great upper body strength prevailed. He managed to defeat Beatrice, cracking her neck. A few minutes later, they took her away on a stretcher.
As the ref raised Pat's hand in triumph, his other hand was on his now empty crotch.
Pat left that day a champion, but he had suffered the greatest defeat of his life.
One of the secrets of Beatrice' success was her strong grip. She found that if she exerted extreme force with thumb or finger digging into her opponent's flesh, the other girl would be more inclined to move in the direction Beatrice wanted. She would practice squeezing hand grips. Recently, she'd taken to cracking walnuts, taking two in her hand and crushing one against another. She could crack a pecan between finger and thumb or between her middle and ring finger and the palm of her hand. She could take two pecans and crack them fairly easily using these techniques. This kind of practiced helped her greatly defeat her opponents in wrestling.
Beatrice hadn't always been an athletic success. She was from a broken home, bounced around from foster home to foster home from the age of five, carrying her things in a plastic bag. At the age of twelve, the son of foster parents, a boy her same age, had attacked her and taken away her innocence. She doesn't talk about it, but let's say more than one orifice was in great pain afterward. The boy threatened if she were to tell anyone, he would find her and repeat what he'd done to her, and do the same to her other female friends in the foster home. He also told her that he did it because she'd been giving off signals that she wanted it, and had dressed in a way that would invite boys to do that to her. This left her confused, frustrated, and angry. After the assault, she resolved that she would not be a victim. Then her friends told her about a boy's weak spot. When she felt harassed by boys in foster homes or at school, she would go for the gonads. In fact, she'd been kicked out of a foster home for grabbing a boy. She almost went to court for sexual assault over that. She didn't really feel bad about it. Beatrice was a little lacking in feeling. Honestly, she was bit of a psycopath.
Her current foster parents had had her in the house for three years. Even though she was 18, they still allowed her to stay in their home as she finished out the school year. Colleges were interested in recruiting her for women's wrestling. Her foster parents had taught her to direct her energy away from violence and into sports. They'd given her some good moral instruction, and she knew not to attack a man's package unless it were life or death. She might do it also if she were about to be raped. Beatrice also played the guitar. She had her own method of playing, hitting the strings with her pinky. Using superglue and baking soda, she'd turned her right pinkie into a durable guitar pick. She could play songs by ear, and one school was interested in giving her a free ride for guitar.
Her team was traveling to Massachusetts to compete against another undefeated team. On that team, their star player was Pat. Pat is short for Patricia. It's funny to say short, because Patricia, who used to be called Patrick, and he was 6'2". Patricia kept winning wrestling matches against girls in the top weight class. As a trans individual, Patricia had become a hero for supporters of the LGBT movement. He would walk through crowds of protesters chanting 'Trans rights are human rights', who clapped for him. He enjoyed the attention, but that is not why he went trans.
As Patrick entered high school, he was having difficulty getting a girlfriend. He had these strong sexual urges, and he knew if he didn't satisfy them with a willing girlfriend, he was just going to satisfy them with a girl who wasn't willing, but that was a last resort, according to his warped thinking... unless the girl was really hot and she wasn't interested.... then he might consider it. He'd gotten into some legal trouble with a foster girl in the past, but good lawyers had kept him out of court.
After having watched the news about trans teens, talk from 'woke' children in the LGBT movement in his school, and several Tik Tok videos, Patrick got to thinking. He overheard some female wrestlers talk about using the showers after a match. He'd seen showers in the locker room, but no one used them after PE class. If he joined the girl's wrestling team, he could wrestle with them. Most of the girls had bodies like a minifridge, but a few of the girls were really hot. One had a beautiful face, and a lanky, but still feminine form, and the other was his favorite-- a tall curvy girl with a Marilyn Monroe type figure.
Patrick hatched his plan. He would declare himself to be transgender-- a female cross-dressing lesbian. That means he could be a 'girl', like girls since he's a 'lesbian', and dress like a boy. Since he lived in a liberal town in Massachusetts, school officials applauded him for being brave. Even though the team had already been selected, they made a special exception to let him wrestle. He knew nothing of wrestling, but as a fit gym rat of a male, he quickly learned to out-wrestle other girls. A few parents protested when they found out he was rubbing his body all over their daughters' bodies, but the teachers, school board, and parents treated them like a pariah for attacking a vulnerable trans person, and accused the parents of being responsible for the suicides of trans teens. This shut the parents up. Two sets of parents withdrew their teens from wrestling, but these girls were too stout for Pat's tastes, so he did not care if they left, so he told the school to stop persecuting them for dropping out.
Patricia now had his access to the shower after girl's wrestling practice, but the hourglass figure girl and the hot lanky girl would not shower, and went home sweaty. All that were left were a few woke girls with mini-fridge shaped bodies. It was a bit arousing to see these females, but not completely satisfying. They would occasionally giggle at his erections in the shower. Patricia figured if he couldn't have the hot girls, maybe he could temporarily slake his thirst with one of the minifridges. So he would flirt, talk about sex, touch them a bit. Patricia was a groomer. It came naturally to him, and he'd actually studied how groomers groom their victims by watching YouTube videos to get some ideas.
After a while, Patricia started winning matches, and he decided to embrace the trans look a bit more to be a more credible male in female wrestling. He grew out his hair and wore eyeliner. Many in the media cheered him as a hero to trans youth. Conservatives complained about him, especially after a female opponent's neck was fractured as he pinned her. He didn't feel bad about it. She put herself at risk by playing the game. In fact, the girl was a pretty good wrestler, and he was a bit proud that he'd put such a hurting on her. Honestly, he was a bit of psychopath. Patricia figured he'd ride this trans wrestler thing out to see if he could get some scholarships out of it. Maybe the naked girls in a university shower could look a little better, and maybe he could get a steady supply of what he was looking for without having to risk getting in trouble by just taking it... which he could as a powerful wrestler. he had with a couple of drunk girls, who he had persuaded in the morning to think it was consensual. Again, Patricia was a bit of a psychopath.
Media attention included online interviews. In one interview, Patricia stated that he didn't know for sure if he had the courage to go full trans physically, but he was considering it. Honestly he knew he had no interest in it.
His team was going up against another undefeated team. He couldn't believe his eyes when he saw this tall, elegant movie star with tights on the opposing team. He couldn't weight to rub his body all over hers. And other teammates were quite attractive as well. He didn't get the curvy movie star girl at first. Instead he got a slightly smaller girl, still in the top weight class. He handled her well. She was like a little puppet in his hands. He got cocky and decided to do wrestling moves that simulated lewd acts, including a 'doggy' move.
Beatrice was getting angry. This tall, strong man had humiliated her friend, feigning a lewd act on her. This was women's wrestling, not men's wrestling! Beatrice was already irritated by the idiots in politics, the news, and in schools who were stupid enough to think that if a boy claimed to be a girl, that that made him a girl. She knew that a man who got his balls chopped off and replaced by a fake vagina was really a male eunuch with a fake vagina. She could see that this boy had balls, rather large ones, because they bulged through his shorts. In fact, if she wanted, she could grab them. She'd learned that in the past, that even through tight shorts she could isolate a pair of testicles, pulling them a bit away from the body, and squeeze them. She could see how to easily do that with this big Patricia dude.
After several matches, Patricia wrestled another of Beatrice friends. This time, he used the same move that he'd used to break the neck of that other wrestler. Beatrice' friend was carried off on a stretcher, but since Patricia hadn't broken any rules, he was still in the game.
During one of the matches, a girl on Beatrice' team had caught a shin to the groin. A debate between coaches and referees had arisen over this issue. The coach noticed a restriction against hitting girls in the 'vulva.' The rules were explicit, disgustingly so. A left-wing organization, an evil 'charity', that had written the explicit sex ed program had also been given the right to contribute to the rules for sports, so rules now forbade explicit sex acts and mentioned sexual parts in details. Since the rules forbade contact with the vulva or clitoris, the coach pointed out that it did not say 'crotch', just these specific parts to the ref and other team's coach. This wasn't related to the debate at all.
The coach sat down next to Beatrice and showed her the rules. He said, "Pardon my French, but the rules do not forbid hitting, grabbing, or squeezing a man's testicles. That Pat dude over there broke your friend's neck. I just wanted to point out what the rules said, and what they didn't say. I've trained you well, and how you fight in the next round is up to you.
Beatrice knew what she would do. She would grab this boy by the sack and take him down as roughly as she knew how. She'd seen the smirk before he injured her friend. She'd seen him simulate lewd acts until just before time went out with her friend, then pinned her friend. She looked at Patrick, and he looked at her. He looked familiar. As their eyes met, she realized he was a very good-looking fellow. She'd never dated anyone. She didn't know if she could after that assault when she was twelve. Then she realized why he looked so familiar. Pat was the name of the boy who'd assaulted her. This was that boy! This was her r@pist!
The match started and after dancing around a bit Patricia's succesfully reaches for a hold, but Beatrice reaches for Patricia's testicles. She managed to get thumb and forefinger between testicles and his body. Patrick lost his hold on Beatrice as his hands covered hers, which clenched his testicles. Beatrice slides right between his legs, without breaking the hold. After all the moves, the audience saw quite a spectacle, Patricia bent all the way over, leaning over on his left hand, with his right hand barely touching Beatrice hand, which firmly gripped his testicles. Pat was so distracted by the pain, she had lifted him up, scooted between his legs, pulling him to a bent over standing position by the ball-cords. She stood behind him, holding his testicles in hand. He was powerless. It was a pitiful, ridiculous, and obscene sight.
Patricia didn't know if he could endure this. This gorgeous giant woman had a grip on his testicles. each testicle was very firmly compressed, not just with regular testicle pain like getting kicked in the nuts, but with a stronger, tighter type of compression that was dizzying. He was overcome by fear.
Patricia's coach argued with the referee, who pointed out to the coach that no contact had been made with the wrestlers vulva or clitoris.
Standing behind Patricia, Beatrice now did not have to worry about him fighting back. He could do nothing, and she had more than two and a half minutes yet. She thought she should be full of anger about the past events, but she didn't really feel much. Her mind went into a cool, calculating mode. How could she do the most damage possible to the man who had assaulted her--stealing her virtue and innocence.. her youthful virginity, who had sexually humiliated her friend in public, who had broken her friend's neck. She remembered her walnut and pecan cracking practice. Using her left hand, she carefully positioned Patricia's nuts in her hands. She got his right testicle firmly between her index finger and palm with pressure from her palm also. She positioned his left nut between her ring and index fingers and the palm of her hand. With all of her might, she squeezed, but these nuts were tough and wouldn't crack like a couple of pecans.
Patricia could feel his testicles being painfully positioned while still under great pressure.... then the super-squeeze. He began to feel woozy and wanted to pass out. As he looked up, he could see and hear a great stir in the crowd.
The crowd was full of high school students. Some were nauseous. Some of the boys looked kind of green and were shifty uncomfortably as they sat on the bleachers, blocking their crotches with their hands. But many had started to chant, "Crush his nuts! Crush his nuts! Crush his nuts!"
But others in the audience were upset, and some of Pat's minifridge-shaped were outraged that their teammate was being misgendered, rose to his defense. So they stood up and started chanting, "Crush HER nuts! Crush HER nuts!" Groups of people were facing off at each other in the stand, with some yelling 'Crush HER nuts!' and others yelling, 'Crush HIS nuts!'. Pat caught a glimpse of this, distressed that the whole audience seemed to be in agreement that his testicles should be crushed.
For Pat, it felt like the only thing in the universe was the pain in his testicles, that and keeping himself in position so as not to rip them off by passing out and falling forward, but he did catch the chanting in the crowd. He felt so betrayed by his mini-fridge-shaped female friends chanting for his manual **********, and the rest of the crowd delighting in his suffering. But these thoughts and feelings of betrayal faded as the physical pain consistently intensified.
Beatrice decided what she was doing was boring so she managed to muster up a stronger pulsating squeeze, which caused Pat to gasp, squeeze, and scream from the torture she was inflicting on him. She held a 'base' super-strong squeeze that was excruciating, adding these sharper, more severe squeezes, two every second. With a minute and a half left, she held him, pulsating like this for about 40 seconds. Slowly and deliberate, she slides between his legs, still holding his testicles, now in a twisted upside-down position As she pins him, she says, "Remember me? You evil child-******." And Pat did remember her, and his fear for his balls grew. His heart raced. He was terrified.
Just before Beatrice got his limp compliant body into position to be pinned, she remembered her strong guitar pick pinkie nail. She pressed it into Pat's left testicle.
"Do you remember you said in that interview that you didn't have the courage to decide to go all the way with your transgender **********? Well, I decided to help you out with that decision."
Beatrice addressed the crowd loudly "I want you to here a confession from this young man."
Pierced tattooed girls in the audience hissed in shock and outrage that they would dare call Pat a man.
Beatrice continued, "Many years ago, when I was just a child, this man r@ped me. Now listen to him confess." Away from the microphone she leaned over and muttered in Pat's ear, "Confess now or I'll will yank this ball out of you by the cord.", and she yanked it just a bit to add an unsettling sperm cord pain into his abdomen along with the crushing.
The nut pain was so intense he could barely speak, but Pat managed to squeak out, "Yes, I r*aped her, but we were just children."
Beatrice responded in triumph to the crowd, "She, he confessed. He r*ped me!"
She looked at the crowd expecting empathy and compassion. But the crowd fell silent.
Instead, one of Pat's mini-fridge shaped teammates with her blue hair, tattoos, and nose rings, stood up and said with outrage and disgust, "How dare you say that! SHE r*ped you!"
So the local students stand up and begin to chant, in defense of the trans wrestler they were so proud of, defending him from 'misgendering,' They chanted, "SHE r*ped you. SHE r*ped you SHE r*ped you."
But the visiting students from her school opposed them with their chant. "HE r*ped you. HE r*ped you. HE r*ped you."
Beatrice muttered to herself, "What idiots."
Then, she took her other hand and applied the maximum pressure that she could, causing Pat to vomit nasty bile. She pushed his face into it and rubbed it around. She positioned her extra strong pinkie finger and poked it into the less-damaged testicle, piercing through a layer, then another, deep into the testicular tubules. Then, grabbing the other testicle, she squeezed them together with two hands. Contents of both testicles now quickly filled Pat's sack.
Pat passed out, being held up by Beatrice' grip on his nut sack, and as the testicles deflated, he slipped from her grip. Quickly, as he fell with a thud, he regained consciousness as Beatrice tried to pin him. Though in great pain, he was filled with anger. With great force he grabbed Beatrice. Using the move he used previously to crack her friend's neck, he pinned her to the ground. He was, after all a man, and stronger than she was. Well, he was a eunuch, but his great upper body strength prevailed. He managed to defeat Beatrice, cracking her neck. A few minutes later, they took her away on a stretcher.
As the ref raised Pat's hand in triumph, his other hand was on his now empty crotch.
Pat left that day a champion, but he had suffered the greatest defeat of his life.