A ballbusting tale that's a little different

I decided to write a short story of ballbusting that I think is a bit different from the norm. How is it different? That'd be hard to explain, so give it a try and see what you think.

Annabelle

Watching the small group of young men and women, Annabelle frowned. They were students, like herself, and were gathered around one young man. He was John, not a student himself, but often on the campus, and known to many who studied there. She'd met and chatted briefly with him, he seemed a likeable young man, fairly good looking, and she felt a certain amount of attraction to him, yet he concerned her. He seemed to have no reason, as far as she could ascertain, for being on campus so frequently. He wasn't studying there, and though he was on friendly terms with a number of students he didn't have a girl friend at the university, and when she'd asked some of her fellow students about the reason for his regular visits they'd answered evasively. Annabelle had a reason to worry about this, for she was a member of WAD, Women Against Drugs, and she wondered if John was a dealer. But for the moment wondering was all she could do, it was time for to attend her martial arts class with fellow members of WAD, so with a toss of her long black hair she made her way to the bus stop. Her tall, curvy figure did catch the attention of male eyes as she walked, which she didn't object to, especially as she was confident that with the fighting skills she'd learned if any tried to take advantage of her she'd make them regret it. One man had indeed learned that in the past, a fat drunk who'd groped her in the street, and soon had a very painful pair of testicles! But today was a normal, uneventful day, and she arrived at her destination with no interruptions.
“You are lethal!” Exclaimed Kathy, the founder of this branch of WAD, addressing Annabelle as the class ended. Annabelle was now an instructor, teaching other girls how to defend themselves, and the other woman was complimenting her on her techniques. As the others left Annabelle told Kathy about John.
“Well,” Kathy opined, “you've no evidence that he's got anything to do with drugs, but his behaviour does seem odd. I think,” she added with a wink, “that you're going to have to be a detective.”
Annabelle had little idea of how to investigate John's activities, so was greatly pleased when one of her fellow students confided in her. She was a pretty and petite blonde called Wendy, who was not previously known to Annabelle.
“Excuse me, I'm Wendy and I need to speak to you.”
These were words Wendy used to introduce herself to Annabelle, as the latter was having a coffee in a cafe on campus. Annabelle invited her sit at her table.
“I know you're in a group of girls working to stop drug use here at the university, and you should know there's a guy called John whose supplying to students. He's called John.”
“I know him a bit,” Annabelle replied, “he seems a nice guy.”
“He is.” Wendy looked at the floor and fiddled nervously with her hair. “But he's a dealer.”
Sensing that Wendy was tense, Annabelle reassured her that she was doing the right thing by telling of what he was doing.
“I know it's right, but I feel so guilty.” Briefly Wendy looked at the floor again. “I got to know him, we had a short fling, that's why I feel so bad about what I'm doing. You won't report him to the cops will you?”
After Annabelle had assured her she wouldn't do that, Wendy told her how John was himself supplied with illegal drugs which he would then supply to students at the university. The method was that the drugs delivered attached to the underside of a lorry that would be parked in a depot where John would then collect it, and the next delivery was that night.
Armed with this knowledge Annabelle parked her car a little away from the lorry depot that evening, and reconverting the razor wire that encircled the depot she found a spot where the wire had been cut to form a doorway, but fixed in position so it could only be seen on close inspection. It was in a street with no houses and a field on the adjacent side of the road with hedges surrounding it. Having hid herself behind the hedge she waited, and sure enough her quarry showed up, Annabelle waited till John had entered the depot and emerged back to the street before she confronted him. “Hello. Whatever you’ve just got from inside the depot hand it over”.
The young man was to startled to immediately reply, he just stared at Annabelle. A lovely sight she was, clad in tight blue jeans and matching denim jacket, with a fitted blouse that emphasised the curves of her breasts, and her hands on her hips, her blue eyes staring intently at him. “What are you talking about?” His voice was angry, threatening.
“You know what I mean.” She moved closer to him.
John thought for a moment before he replied. “Okay, I’ve got something that makes people feel good, and you’ve no right to interfere, and if you don’t get out of my way I’ll make you feel very bad!” He than reached out and placed a hand on one of the girls breasts, with the intention not of assaulting Annabelle but intimidating her. She, however, is not easily intimidated, and her reaction was to grab his shoulders and pull him quickly toward her as the same time as she propelled a knee into his groin. John gasped, from shock as much as pain, and sank to his knees, with both hands covering where he’d been hurt. And he had been hurt! He’d never been hit in his testicles before, and the sickening pain frightened him. And angered him! That it was a girl who’d inflicted this sickening assault on his most tender parts enraged him. And she stood looking down at him, arrogantly, further inflaming his rage. When he’d recovered sufficiently he stood upright, though he needed to bend over for a moment as his groin ached so much.
“Hurts, doesn’t it”. Annabellr dryly observed.
When John was able to stand upright again he let forth a stream of profanities. “You dirty bitch”! He continued, “I’m gonna beat your face into pulp!!”
“Oh John,” Annabelle sounded as if she was bored, “you’re no fighter and I’m trained to fight, didn’t what I just did to you tell you that?”
This wasn’t the reaction John expected, he thought she’d be scared. Though he was what could be called a modern man who had no problem with feminism, that a girl should challenge him physically disturbed something deep in his psyche, a primitive gut level reaction. With no further thought he aimed a punch at Annabelle’s face, but to his astonishment she moved quickly out of the direction of his blow, and as his fist went harmlessly through the air delivered a kick into his crotch! The instep of her booted foot struck his testicles from underneath, causing a sharp stab of agony followed by a surge of nauseating pain that rose up into his belly. Again John fell to his knees, one hand clutching his groin, while the other hand he had to place on the ground to prevent himself from falling forward.
“As I was saying, you’re no fighter.” Annabelle remarked, as she bent down and felt in his jacket pockets. “Ah,” she continued, as she held a small parcel in her hand that she’d removed from John’s jacket, “this must be what I’m looking for”
John now needed more time to recover, and for a short while he remained in a kneeling position, till Annabelle took hold of his arms and helped him to his feet. “I’m sorry you’re hurt, but it’s your fault. As you may have difficulty walking I’ll drive you home and we’ll forget all about tonight, as long as you stop dealing drugs. Okay?” He nodded his agreement.
Annabelle helped him walk to her car, and on reaching it told him to lean on the bonnet while she unlocked the car door. As she did so Annabelle wasn’t watching John, and again he attacked. Why? He knew from recent experience that Annabelle was a tough girl, and the pain in his groin she’d inflicted was severe, but there was something inside him that couldn't accept defeat by a girl. A man probably, but not a girl. And that she’d attacked his reproductive organs, causing a pain and fear that she couldn’t understand, inflamed him even more. So, with a growl of fury he grabbed her hair while her back was turned to him, pulled hard and with his other hand gripped her throat, intending to throttle her into submission. And a second later a loud cry of anguish burst from him, as his intended victim raised an arm high into the air that then came swiftly down to propel her clenched fist like a wrecking ball into his already much abused groin! John could take no more, and would have surrendered, but the girl wasn’t finished with him yet. Annabelle’s patience had been tested beyond its limit, and she was now determined to ensure John would put up no more resistance. She turned to face him, and before he could again fall to the ground she pulled away his hands which were clutching at his crotch, took hold of his manhood with her right hand and squeezed! Not satisfied even with this, Annabelle walked swiftly backwards, compelling John to follow, as she was literally dragging him by his balls!
“Let go,” the young man cried, “for fucks sake let go!” Tears were streaming down John’s face, he was almost hysterical. The pain caused by Annabelle's grip was appalling, and he was terrified he’d suffer permanent damage. When, to his relief, Annabelle relaxed her grip, he collapsed, curling up in a ball and crying. Annabelle left him to cry for several minutes, then, bending down, put him into the recovery position. He’d stopped crying now, and with a handkerchief she wiped away the tears on his face.
“Do you feel sick?” She asked. He nodded. “Put your head back and take deep breaths.”
Annabelle gave John a little more time to recover before she spoke again. “John, pay attention to what I say. Your testicles are really hurting, aren’t they.” Though it hurt his pride to admit this to a girl, he did so as he’d been ****** to accept that he shouldn’t defy Annabelle. “They’ll hurt for several days, and you should remember that the pain was done by a girl. I, and the other girls in WAD know how to fight, we can all do this to you. What’s more, if I catch you dealing again I’ll kick your balls into pulp. Understood?”
Humiliated, John looked at the ground, only for Annabelle to grab his chin and make him look at her. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.” Her voice was stern. “Do you understand?”
“Yes” John mumbled in reply.
That concluded events for the night. Annabelle drove him home and helped him walk into his flat, where he lay on the sofa for the next few hours. After a while the nausea caused by what he’d suffered passed, though the pain in his groin was still severe. And his mind was troubled, unable to accept that a girl had defeated him physically, but of course unable to deny it. That it was such a beautiful girl confused him further. He was attracted to her, but fearful as well, and yet, in a strange way that made Annabelle even more desirable. She was the ultimate challenge, he thought, but a challenge he could never hope to conquer.