ARMS Test(icle)punch

“She punches with her hair?” he muttered.

Spring Man squinted at his opponent across the ring. There had been talk about someone new joining the ARMS league — a celebrity, even, if the rumors were to be believed — but this was the first opportunity that he’d had to actually meet her. “Twintelle”, she called herself, and she was quite a beauty: tan, strong, and ready to fight. She wore a sleeveless white turtleneck that left bare her upper back and shoulders, and a tight pair of leather pants that hugged her hips, showing off a butt that was rounder than a peach. Her hair was done up in a pair of impossibly long pink-and-white pigtails, each capped with a boxing glove. There was a mask covering her face, so Spring Man couldn’t quite recognize her, but the boxer had a feeling that he had seen her before, either in a movie or on a billboard somewhere. Apparently she had racked up several wins in a row now, and was starting to make a name for herself. 

Still, he doubted she would pose much of a challenge. He was fresh off a victory over Master Mummy, with the ARMS championship in his sights. Two more wins, and the title was his. One random rookie didn’t seem all that intimidating — especially one who’d chosen to wear high heels to a ARMS match.

“Fight!” shouted the announcer.

He stepped sideways, throwing a quick left jab at his opponent and following up with a right hook. Twintelle responded well to both, knocking them both out of the air with her own fists. She took a few strides towards him, her bare arms folded across her chest, then struck back with her hair. Spring Man blocked her punches in turn. The two spent a few moments circling each other, throwing a few more experimental jabs to probe each other’s defenses.

Spring Man blocked her punches with relative ease, but he found himself surprisingly distracted by the way she sashayed around the ring. She was gorgeous even when standing still, but now that she was in motion, it just seemed to highlight her womanly figure all the more. Her hips swayed seductively with each step, and he could feel a certain part of his anatomy spring to life in response.

The male shook his head, forcing himself to focus. He tried to keep his eyes trained on the two boxing gloves at the ends of her pigtails, rather than letting his gaze fall to all of the generous curves just below. He was only one fight away from the ARMS championship bout, and he wasn’t about to waste that opportunity daydreaming about sex.

Unfortunately, even that brief lapse in concentration would cost him. Immediately, one of Twintelle’s fists flashed forward, sparking with electricity.

Spring Man darted sideways to avoid the punch, but the glove still clipped his shoulder, sending a sharp shock through his upper body. He grunted in surprise as both of his ARMS flopped to his sides in a spasm of electricity. Wincing in pain, the fighter tried to raise his arms to block, but for a short moment they wouldn’t respond.

Twintelle dashed forwards, closing the distance between the two of them. For a second, time seemed to slow down. Her eyes flitted across his body, scanning for the optimal place to strike…and settling on his crotch.

The male’s eyes went wide, but before he could respond, she had already hit home. Twintelle launched a vicious uppercut, her fist crashing up into the crux of his legs. His light athletic shorts did nothing to cushion the impact. The fighter was sent flying as his testicles were crushed against his pelvis, flattened into disks as they soaked up the full force of the female’s assault.

For Spring Man, it felt like a bomb had just gone off in his gut. “Guh,” he croaked — then crashed to the ground in a tangle of limbs. He rolled over onto his side, curling instinctively into the fetal position and reaching down to cradle his injured gonads. It was hard to be sure through the thick padding of a boxing glove, but he was [i]pretty[/i] sure they were both still there.

His brain told him to stay down and protect his reproductive health, but his heart told him to get up and keep fighting. With an agonized groan, the fighter forced himself onto his hands and knees, trying to work through the pain. It had been extremely stupid to allow himself to get distracted by his opponent’s looks, even for that brief moment. He wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

Twintelle planted her hands on her hips and watched patiently as Spring Man slowly climbed back to his feet. She could have continued to press her attack, but that seemed unsportsmanlike. There was no need to punch a man when he was already down.

Spring Man straightened and met her gaze. She smiled back at him. Cautiously, he raised his ARMS again — now acutely aware of how it left his balls open to attack.

And so before Twintelle could strike, he decided to strike first. Both his ARMS shot out in an attempt to grapple his opponent. The female tried to jump out of his reach, but she was a hair too slow, as he managed to grab her by one of her pigtails. His other ARM closed around the curve of her waist. With great satisfaction, he tossed her sideways, sending her tumbling to the other side of the arena.

“Ah!” she gasped, hitting the ground with an ungentle [i]thud[/i].

“There we go,” Spring Man grunted, feeling a bit better already. Despite himself, his eyes lingered on Twintelle’s butt for a moment as she lay sprawled on the ground. His balls still throbbed with every small movement, but he could ignore that for a few minutes while he finished the fight. There would be plenty of time to rest up before the championship bout. 

Twintelle sprung back to her feet, gritting her teeth. She spared no time re-entering the fray, jumping into the air and throwing a few quick jabs. Spring Man blocked her and countered with a few jabs of his own, but Twintelle blocked those as well. The pair spent a few more seconds trading blows, landing a few light hits but ducking and dodging all the more serious punches.

But Spring Man was on the lookout for a particular punch, and before long, it came. For a split second, he saw Twintelle’s eyes drop towards his crotch, and immediately he knew her next move. She lunged with her right fist, once again aiming directly for the male’s weak spot. As her ARM shot outwards, Spring Man countered with his left, aiming to intercept her punch in mid-air. At the same time, he fired with his own right ARM, threading it through her defenses. It was a perfect opening for a counter-attack!

And yet — time seemed to slow again, like his outstretched ARMS were suddenly stuck in molasses. At the last possible moment, Twintelle’s right ARM curved in flight, dipping low beneath his guard and then curving back upwards towards its intended target. Shocked, Spring Man tried to twist out of the way, but–

[i]THUMP.[/i]

His eyes watered as he was lifted onto his tiptoes, his already aching balls pounded flat for a second time. His nuts had managed to slip to either side of her glove as it slammed home, but that was little consolation. Twintelle’s fist seemed to take up all the available space between his tensed thighs, leaving his testicles with no option but to be squashed to a fraction of their usual plumpness.

Spring Man managed not to collapse completely this time, instead falling to one knee…but the pain was just as bad, if not worse. “Haah,” he squeaked, voice lilting into the soprano for a moment. Nausea bloomed in his gut like ink in water. A little voice in his head wondered if he might be shooting blanks for the next few weeks.

Shakily, he forced himself back to his feet and stumbled backwards a few steps, retreating as he tried to gather his thoughts. That last punch had definitely taken the spring out of his step — in fact, his legs felt rather wobbly at this point. Still, the fight wasn’t over yet. Spring Man’s come-from-behind wins were legendary, and he could be a fierce competitor when his back was against the ropes. All he needed was one good opening. If he could catch her flatfooted, he knew he had the skills to combo his way to victory.

And so once more, he pressed the attack. Twintelle allowed herself to play defense for a moment, ducking and weaving between his punches — but even as she avoided any damage, she was forced to retreat into the corner of the ring. Spring Man smirked. She was allowing herself to get pinned! A classic rookie mistake. Now all he needed was to land one good punch to set up a knockout combo.

But just as he was preparing to press his advantage, Twintelle suddenly dashed to the side, slipping out of the corner and launching a fierce counterattack. Spring Man dodged left around her first punch, then leapt into the air to avoid her second – only to find her next punch screaming towards his face. Just in time, he raised his ARMS reflexively, deflecting her fist mere inches from his face. For a moment, he was relieved…until he realized what he had left exposed.

It was exactly the opening that Twintelle had been hoping for. With Spring Man mid-jump, and with his ARMS raised high, his groin was easy target practice, and she took advantage with punishing force.

Spring Man squawked like a seagull as the female clobbered his family jewels yet again. The much-abused orbs warped around her glove, forced to abandon their usual round shape in order to survive. A spike of raw agony tore through his abdomen as Twintelle splattered his spunk-makers across her fist, hammering them as though she were trying to drive them up into his rib cage.

Honestly, just one good low blow would have been enough to finish Spring Man off, but Twintelle had no intension of stopping there. Her fists thundered into his ballsac one after the other, like she was working a speed bag. She juggled the poor fighter in mid-air, each punch pounding his swollen testicles and stressing them to their very limits. His body bounced like a ragdoll, flopping comically as his gonads were thoroughly thrashed by the buxom bombshell.

Spring Man mewled wordlessly as his opponent scrambled his eggs, his entire being overwhelmed with agony. Unable to cope with the intense nutpain, his body started to shut down. Somewhere around punch #5, he mercifully passed out. Somewhere around punch #11, Twintelle finally let him crash back down to earth.

“K.O.!” came the announcer’s cry, as Spring Man crumpled silently into an unconscious heap.

Twintelle planted her hands on her hips and grinned.