As always, this is pure fiction, and all characters are over the age of 18. Disclaimer: This story gets a bit bloody and contains castration.
Charlie was a good boy, perhaps a bit shy, but he would never have said anything even remotely sexist or suggestive, regardless of whether women were present or not. He knew how to conduct himself and felt ashamed of his masturbation habits, even though he was already a young adult living in his first own apartment. Still, he couldn't help but look after pretty women as they walked past him. The sight and contours of their bodies, accentuated by form-fitting clothes, their elegant movements, and the smiles on their faces, even if merely polite, stirred his libido; he would blush, and his cock would get hard. Summer was particularly difficult for Charlie and his throbbing cock. Although he fully understood that women didn't dress that way for men's eyes but rather for comfort, he could barely control himself in the face of all the beautiful young women showing off their charms in skimpy summer attire. As soon as he got home, he had to tear off his clothes and either jerk off or take a cold shower to calm down.
It was too bad that he was too shy and too full of shame to approach a pretty woman without blushing or immediately getting an erection, which ruined his chances of ever getting laid. Yet, he was by no means bad-looking. Charlie was of average build and certainly no muscleman, but he was neither overweight nor too thin, and he had a handsome face. You could say he was in good shape, and he had a respectable set of cock and balls, even his package wasn't extremly huge.
On a fateful summer day, Charlie was out and about in the city center. He had the day off and planned to head to the park to read a new book in the sunshine, and perhaps find some inspiration for his next masturbation session. On his way, he had to wait at a pedestrian crossing. As luck would have it, a particularly attractive young woman was standing right in front of him at that moment. She appeared to be about his age. A long blonde braid cascaded elegantly down her back; her spaghetti-strap top left the lower half of her back exposed, while her skimpy shorts left nothing to the imagination regarding the shape of her round bottom.
Charlie immediately felt his penis stir and wished he could simply step forward and press his hard member between her buttocks. He himself was wearing a T-shirt, knee-length shorts, and sandals; underneath the shorts, he wore rather tight underwear, hoping to keep his penis somewhat in check so that no overly obvious bulge would show in his crotch. But it didn't work. Charlie tried to distract himself by thinking about the tasks awaiting him at work the next day. Yet his gaze kept returning to that beautiful bottom and eventually wandered down the shapely legs underneath. Her calves, in particular, were very well-toned, a clear sign that she exercised regularly or cycled. Charlie was so distracted that he didn't even notice another woman right next to him sizing him up. She was older than him, likely pushing thirty, with shoulder-length black hair and bangs, and her low-cut T-shirt revealed an impressive bust. Her eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses, making it difficult to tell exactly where she was looking. Charlie only notice the other woman's presence when she suddenly reached for the younger woman's backside and gave her a hard pinch on the bottom.
The young woman let out a shriek and spun around, suddenly finding herself face-to-face with Charlie. Charlie raised his hands in a placating gesture. At first, she glared at him furiously, but then her gaze darted to his crotch, where she spotted the telltale bulge. Before Charlie could even begin to explain, her hand shot to his crotch and clamped firmly onto the bulge. His tight underwear had pressed his testicles into a compact package; the woman’s fingers now grabbed this bundle and squeezed hard. Charlie let out a high-pitched cry of pain as the breath was forced from his lungs; he grew dizzy, his knees buckled, and that single, swift, brutal grab at his testicles brought him to the verge of collapse. Yet her grip on his testicles lasted only about two seconds before she finally let go and delivered a resounding slap across his face. "You pig!" she screamed.
It all happened so fast that Charlie hardly knew whether to clutch his aching testicles or rub his burning cheek. The decision was taken out of his hands when the older woman suddenly stepped up behind him, grabbed his arms, and yanked them back against his spine. "I've got him, Sis!" the dark-haired woman shouted to the blonde. "Now finish him off!" For a split second, the blonde with the ponytail looked confused, but then a malicious grin spread across her face as she realized what the other woman wanted her to do. She grabbed Charlie’s shoulder for leverage and then drove her knee straight into his crotch with full force. Charlie let out a pained groan; the breath had been knocked out of him, leaving him unable to scream. For a moment, his vision went black as his balls were crushed between the woman’s knee and his own pelvis.
But the two women had no intention of leaving it at that. The blonde quickly pulled back her knee and immediately followed up with another strike from the other knee. A veritable barrage of knee strikes rained down on Charlie’s testicles. Charlie was in such agony that he could barely breathe, let alone scream. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and only the woman behind him kept him propped up and upright. He had never imagined that such a level of pain was even possible without losing consciousness. "Oh, please, please... let me pass out—why won't I pass out?" he pleaded silently, unable to utter a word. By now, a crowd had gathered around the scene. It consisted mainly of women cheering on the woman who was delivering the kicks. Charlie heard shouts like "Smash his balls!", "Kick the pervert out of the gene pool!", and "Cut his balls off!" The few men present protectively covered their own genitals with their hands and looked away, hoping not to draw the women's attention—or their wrath to their own balls.
Eventually, the blows to Charlie’s testicles stopped, though the dark-haired woman continued to hold him upright. Charlie’s vision was blurred by tears, and a loud rushing sound in his ears made it difficult to understand what was being said. He felt his shorts and underwear being pulled down—presumably to assess the extent of the injury and administer first aid; at least, that was what Charlie hoped. Then he felt himself being lowered until his bare buttocks touched the concrete, while his upper body rested against someone’s legs. As his legs were pushed aside and spread, he dared to glance at his crotch. Charlie’s testicles looked horrific. They were swollen to the size of lemons and crisscrossed by thick veins, many of which had burst, and his scrotum had turned a blackish-blue color. His penis was barely noticeable; it had shrunk to its smallest possible size and was smeared with blood. Charlie had evidently passed blood and urine without realizing it. Then, a rectangular object was slid into his field of vision. It was the new book Charlie had originally intended to read in the park. He had dropped it the moment his testicles were crushed for the first time. Now, a female foot clad in a sneaker pressed it against his balls. Charlie whinced at the comparatively gentle impact. Someone grabbed his testicles and carefully placed them onto the book.
Only then did Charlie look up. The first thing he saw was breasts. He realized he was looking up at the dark-haired woman and the blonde—the dark-haired one stood behind him, supporting his body with her legs, while the blonde stood in front of him. From this angle, their breasts looked massive, probably a C-cup for the dark-haired woman and a B-cup for the blonde, Charlie estimated. But his thoughts didn't linger there too long, for he noticed the women's faces. They looked amused, but in a malicious way, as if they were relishing the prospect of something terrible happening to someone who deserved it. "I don't deserve this!" Charlie screamed inwardly. "I didn't do anything! I didn't even touch her!" Charlie's self-pity was abruptly interrupted when the blonde took a step back and raised her leg as if to crush an insect. "Oh, no! No! No! No!" Charlie screamed aloud. "Oh, yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!" the blonde retorted mockingly. Then she turned, leapt into the air, and drove her heel straight down onto Charlie's poor, already battered testicles. "Aaaiiieee!" Charlie screamed. His testicles were flattened beneath the woman's foot, though the tissue held firm for now. The woman kept the bloody mass that had once been Charlie's testicles pinned firmly beneath her foot. Charlie’s gaze wandered from that foot over to the shapely calf and all the way up to the firm, rounded buttocks where it had all begun. Then, without warning, the woman shifted her entire weight onto that foot—and thus onto Charlie’s balls. The tissue slowly gave way and finally burst. Everything went black for Charlie.
When Charlie came to, he was lying in a hospital bed. He still felt dizzy and had a terrible headache. "Oh," he groaned. "Ah! Look who’s awake, our Mr. Sex Offender!" a female voice announced. Confused, Charlie looked up and saw a nurse standing in the doorway. "Um, what... what happened to me?" Charlie asked, his voice trembling. "Oh, I can tell you that!" the nurse said. "You picked the wrong woman to mess with! You’re really lucky she isn’t pressing charges as she’s convinced you’ve learned your lesson and won’t do it again. Especially after she took away your reasons for doing it." Then she laughed and left the room. Charlie frowned. What did she mean? Acting on a sudden impulse, he pushed back the blanket and lifted his hospital gown. His scrotum still looked awful, and fresh stitches were visible. Carefully, he reached between his legs and examined the sac of skin that had once held his testicles. It was empty.
Charlie had been a good boy, but now he was no longer a boy.