Limerick

There once was a quiet young shrew
who pissed off a fem kangaroo.
His timid piano
turned into soprano
and his testicles turned into goo.

“It just can’t be sung,” said the goat.
“No male can hit such a high note!”
So his singing instructor
(he’d previously fucked her)
then kicked his balls into his throat.

He grabbed the barista. “Hey you!
This coffee is worse than dog doo!”
She said, when he shook her,
“That’s not polite, sugar,”
and left him with one lump, not two.

She started with a nasty Crunch
and followed up with Dizzy Punch.
By the time Mew was done,
she’d turned two spuds to none,
and poor Nidoking lost his lunch.

Haiku

“Just relax,” she said,
as he squealed and bucked his hips.
“You only need one.”

Super Effective!
Luxray‘s knee meets heavy orbs.
Blastoise has fainted!

“Applebuck season”
did not end with harvest time,
Big Mac quickly learned.

“In total?” she said.
Kayla frowned and thought a bit.
“I don’t know...fifteen?”

Sigh. He spread his legs.
“...Happy anniversary.”
Lia gasped...and grinned.

His poor scaly nuts.
Two plump orbs speared on her claws
like a shish-kebab.

But it could be worse.
At least he wasn’t blue-balled.
Or a eunuch (yet).

And dear god, that tongue:
wrapped around his throbbing shaft,
making his toes curl...

His gonads trembled;
his cock twitched in ecstasy.
Which would explode first?

P’oiu bellowed as
the dragoness squeezed the sperm
straight out of his balls.

Her claws ‘round his sac,
tits splattered with dragon spunk.
One hell of a night.

Normally he’d love
female paws around his junk,
but this was different.

“Oof.” His eyes watered.
“Um...professor? C-could you please–
oogh!” His gut lurched. “Ah!”

Lucario squeaked
as the Nidoqueen teacher
tightened her grip more.

Squishy little things,
Joule thought to herself as she
stomped down on his nut.

Stomp. Stomp. Kick. Squeeze. Stomp.
The Charmeleon had lost count
after twenty-five.

“I think that’s enough,”
Kara said, but Por pouted.
“What about my turn?”

Leon wondered if
his balls would still work at all,
or would just shoot blanks.

Old poem

Dragon gonads, make him squeal!
Stomp 'em flat beneath your heel!
Watch him quivering in pain
As he tries so hard in vain
To save those precious dragon eggs
That hang defenseless 'twixt his legs.
Crush those fragile orbs once more
and listen to his frantic roar!
His dragonhood is black and blue,
so pop a nut! He wants you to.

Squeeze those orbs between your claws,
or chew them: use those mighty jaws
and show him what those teeth are for!
Drop that dragon to the floor!
Bash his aching balls around
until he crumples to the ground,
then swat those orbs a solid smack,
or slam a kick into his sack.
Just crush those unprotected jewels
and listen how that dragon mewls.

Smash a gonad into paste!
But pop 'em both? No, that's a waste.
It's better still to leave him one,
so he'll remember all the fun
that you had bashing up his nut:
the ache deep in his scaly gut
as his ball cracked beneath your blows
and finally burst between your toes.
His gonad flattened with a 'splat':
I promise he'll remember that!

And that way he'll still have one orb:
one swollen sphere left to absorb
a female's slaps and stomps and knees,
her brutal kick and vicious squeeze.
He still can help a dragoness
relieve some of her pent-up stress
by offering his tender egg
for her to squish and make him beg.
Even with one nut, just one kick
can make the strongest dragon sick.

But if he ever goes astray
and gets horny while you're away
and blows a load on some girl's tits
he can say goodbye to his bits.
Just grab his ball and do your worst
until you feel that gonad burst!
Bite and swallow in one gulp,
or grind his nut into a pulp.
Let him know his dragonhood
has finally been destroyed for good.

Every male dragon has his junk:
those dragonmakers full of spunk
that dangle so defenselessly,
just waiting for a female's knee.
So slam your foot into his stones
and listen to his tortured moans.
A male's proper place, you see
is curled double in agony,
so watch now as that dragon falls,
your toeclaws buried in his balls.