Dragonair (F) vs. Charizard (M)

It was an incredibly stupid mistake. If you’re a fire-type, what should you avoid? THE WATER. And yet the Dragonair had teased him, seduced him, distracted him enough to get him to the edge of the pool – then dragged him under. Now it was all the male could do to keep his tailflame lit and to gasp lungfuls of air when she let him breach the surface.

The female was still down between his legs, where she’d been for the last several minutes: her lips wrapped tightly around his shaft, sucking fervently at his hard red length. The Charizard shuddered with pleasure, resisting the urge to look down at the nubile young female. He was dangerously close – one look at that grinning face, those gorgeous tits, those curvy hips, and he was sure to blow. And then...well...

As if on cue, another uppercut came rocketing into his ballsac, crushing his hefty dragonmakers up into his groin. Even with the knowledge that it was coming, the Charizard couldn’t help but groan, bubbles of air escaping from his mouth as his body instinctively tried to double over. She’d been pounding on his plums ever since he’d entered the water, tenderizing the poor orbs with blow after blow. If was no longer a question of whether she was going to neuter him – the question was when.

Suddenly a hand yanked down on his sac, and the male looked down in surprise and alarm.

That was mistake #2.

He locked eyes with the busty female, watching her lips slide up the length of his dragonhood until the whole length popped free. She gave one long lick along the underside, from base to tip – and he exploded, a mighty spurt of seed clouding the water.

In response the Dragonair tightened her grip around the base of his sac, holding his nuts in place as her other fist came crashing upwards: once, twice–

Pop!

–three times, four times–

Pop!

And a few more times for good measure, why not.

Mesprit (F) vs. Azelf (M) and Uxie (M)

The reasoning had seemed quite sound in the locker room, when the two of them were discussing battle strategy.

“There’s two of us and one of her!” Uxie had said. “And we’re all Psychics – it’s not like she’ll have a type advantage or anything.”

“Exactly.” Azelf nodded. “Even if she manages to surprise one of us, the other can swoop in an take her out.”

It was all very reassuring. But somehow, the two males had failed to note that Mesprit had two hands. Two hands that were currently clamped very, very tightly around two different sets of gonads.

“My nuts!” squealed two abnormally high-pitched voices.

“What’s that, boys?” The female was grinning, but there were beads of sweat on her forehead. 2-on-1 was more difficult, she had to admit – it was tricky to keep hold of just one twitching male, never mind two.

Then again, it was infinitely satisfying to tighten her grip and hear two different voices squealing for mercy, their frantic pleas overlapping each other in a tangled mess of “please” and “oh Arceus” and “they’re gonna pop!”. Or she could alternate squeezes: left, right, squeak, squawk. It was like playing an instrument.

She did that now, arm muscles bulging as she suddenly doubled the pressure on Uxie’s poor plums. The round orbs squished out between her fingers and the male let out a renewed wail, clutching at her closed fist in an attempt to pry it open.

She held the squeeze for a few more seconds, then turned back to Azelf with a smirk. “Now your turn.”

“Oh fuck not my baaaallls!”

Dewott (M) vs. Absol (M)

He’d tried to be reasonable – really, he had. His Absol opponent radiated smugness, but that wasn’t reason enough to hate him. Nor was his refusal to shake hands before the match (even if it was unsportsmanslike). Sucker Punch was a legal move, even to the groin (though it hurt like a motherfucker), and so was Taunt (though, again, following one with the other was rather unsportsmanlike). This was the Underground League, and dirty tactics were a standard part of battle.

No, the Dewott could have looked past all that if the Absol hadn’t literally cock-slapped him while he was down. Now the water-type was seeing red, glaring daggers at his opponent. Not that the Absol seemed to care – the dark-type just watched casually, picking a bit of dirt from one of his claws as the Dewott climbed back to his feet.

“Seriously, this is pathetic.” The disaster Pokemon gave a condescending smile. “Do you want to just give up now? Or would you rather suck me off fi–URK!”

A sudden burst of water pushed the male backwards, his arms windmilling as he tried to keep his balance; another burst struck him square in the chest, knocking him on to his back with a thud. The Absol’s groan of pain jumped sharply in pitch as another blast hit home squarely between his legs, his furry sac pounded by a focused Water Gun. The male tried to double up and protect himself, but the Dewott’s foot was already on his chest, pushing him back down to the dirt.

“Will you please,” intoned the Dewott testily, “just shut. up?!”

The Absol opened his mouth in response, but any reply was drowned out by the deluge of water that came pounding down on his poor plums, his testicles crushed beneath the full onslaught of a point-blank Hydro Pump. The male seemed frozen for a long moment, every muscle tight with agony – then suddenly he was animated again, writhing in place, head-sickle scratching lines in the dirt. A keening wail issued from the back of his throat, sounding increasingly desperate until his eyes rolled back into his head and he passed out.

Later on the Dewott would admit that yes, he probably could have used a bit less force, and maybe then the Absol would still have a nut to his name. But seriously, what a dick.

Derpy (F) and Doctor Whooves (M)

The time-and-space-ship gave another metallic groan, even louder than before. Derpy let out an involuntary “eep!” as the floor suddenly shifted beneath her, her wings flaring to help maintain her balance. “Um...are you sure you know how to fly this thing?” she asked, a note of concern in her voice.

“Of course! I know precisely what I’m doing.” Doctor Whooves galloped from one side of the console to the other, rearing to kick a switch and stumbling as the floor shifted again. “Maybe. Probably.” He paused and looked at her. “Ever flown a TARDIS?”

The mailmare started to reply, but was interrupted as the entire room suddenly lurched sideways, sending both passengers tumbling to the ground. The Doctor rolled and hit the wall with an oof, the air driven from his lungs by the impact – only for Derpy to come crashing into him a moment later. The male’s eyes shot open in shock and surprise as the pegasus landed squarely between his legs, her bulk slamming forcefully into his groin and coming to a stop with his coltmakers pinned beneath her weight.

It was a long moment before the stallion found his voice...and when he did, it was a bit higher-pitched than usual. “Derpy!” squeaked the stallion. His forehooves moved instinctively to clutch his flattened plums, but they were still trapped beneath the female’s rear.

It took Derpy a moment to gather her wits – the female had to shake her head to clear her double vision – but once she realized what she was sitting on, she quickly scrambled to her hooves. “Ahh!” she exclaimed, stumbling as she rose, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

Doctor Whooves let out a groan as his companion rose, his aching balls reinflating to their usual healthy shape – but the relief was short-lived. Both the Time Lord’s hearts skipped a beat as the mare’s hoof came down squarely in the center of his sac, his jewels bulging out to either side in an attempt to escape the awful pressure. An instant later, that weight was gone – but then a different hoof came thundering down, catching just his left nut this time and squashing it carelessly into the floor. The stallion’s voice climbed yet another octave, his gut a pit of nausea, his body curling around the female’s leg until she finally stepped away.

To the pegasus, it had only been a split-second – a misstep; something round and squishy underhoof – but given the way the Doctor was crumpled on the ground clutching himself, it looked like the afternoon’s adventure might be cancelled. “I didn’t break anything, did I?” she asked sheepishly.

From the fetal position, Doctor Whooves just moaned.