Fuzzballs: Bull Market

There were many things that Maya enjoyed about her job. Counting flasks of dragon spunk was not one of them.

“Are we really down to just two?” she mumbled to herself. The tigress was on her paws and knees, her round butt and furry tail sticking out behind her as she rummaged through the bottom shelf of potions in the back storeroom. It seemed unlikely that their supplies would run so low — Opal’s last visit had been less than a month ago — but then again, Maya certainly did go through a lot of the stuff. Just two days ago, a particularly unlucky party of adventurers had burned through half a dozen bottles.

“…Huh,” she concluded after a moment, tapping her claws against the wooden floor. “Well then, I guess that’s all we’ve got.” She extricated herself from the mess of bottles, taking care not to hit her head on the shelf above, and climbed back upright, reaching for an inventory sheet to record her numbers.

It was life as usual in Bahzra: just enough to make do, and nothing more. Maya had grown used to it by now, and so had the rest of the townsfolk. In a settlement this small, choices were limited, and Maya’s general store was one of the only options for a beastkin in search of supplies.

Above her front door hung a simple wooden sign, its thick block letters faded by years in the sunlight:

BOSCO’S
QUALITY GOODS
AND REPAIRS

It was the only home that Maya could remember: a humble little shop on the outskirts of town. Bosco had adopted her as a cub, and she had grown up under this roof, honing her skills as his apprentice. The old raccoon had passed away years ago, but his name lived on in that big block lettering. It was the least that she could do to remember him.

Tigers were a rarity in Bahzra, but Maya had never imagined living anywhere else. She was 27 now, and had been running the shop for almost six years. Under her purview, it had expanded to include not only basic goods and mechanical repairs, but a bit of urgent care and healing work as well. Maya seemed to have a knack for fixing things, whether they were machines or beastkin. Her self-taught skills could only go so far, but they were still enough to make her the best doctor in town.

Maya herself was a strong young tigress: smart, handy, and independent. She was clever with her words, and feisty when she wanted to be, carrying herself with a casual confidence. She was also extremely attractive, with lush fur, wide hips, and an ample bust. Her clothing sometimes struggled to contain her generous curves. Many, many passing travelers had tried to hit on her over the years, and a few cute guys had gotten lucky, but most had failed. Some of the ruder ones had even given Maya an excuse to break out her self-defense skills, and to charge them for a flask of dragon spunk afterwards.

The tigress picked up her tattered inventory sheet, which had been pinned to a thin, hard piece of wood. Pogo called this a “clipboard” — one of the many miscellaneous inventions that he had left lying around the shop, and one of the few that had actually proven to be useful. Maya scratched down a “2”, and added a note to increase the size of her next order.

Speaking of Pogo…

“Pogo? Did you finish the parts inventory yet?”

The female paused, listening for an answer, but none came. She frowned. Knowing Pogo, he had probably abandoned work an hour ago to start tinkering again. The bird found every possible excuse to wander away from work and start playing with his weird gizmos.

Slipping her clipboard under one arm, Maya strode across the room and peeked out the back door, trying to locate her wayward companion. The rear of the building was a mess of twisted metal and half-finished mechanical projects, but the bird himself was nowhere to be found.

“Pogo?” shouted Maya, louder this time. “Where you at?”

The tigress paused, listening for an answer, but the only sound was the quiet hiss of wind whistling across the endless sand dunes. The sound of the desert. The sound of the wasteland.

Bahzra had been a bustling little outpost once: a stopping point on the edge of the jungle, where travelers would pause before continuing onwards to the city of Calico. Back then, the land had been verdant and lush, with greenery in every direction. Calico — “the jewel of the jungle” — had been home to tens of thousands of tigers and other beastkin.

Of course, Calico was just a ruin now. Even after 20 years, no one quite understood what had happened — the jungle turning into desert, the city collapsing overnight. It had all disappeared into dust. A few adventurers still came through Bahzra, looking to trek into the ruins and discover lost treasures, but all they ever seemed to come back with was empty paws and injuries.

Maya felt a twinge of unease as she looked out across the empty sand. She didn’t think about Calico very often. It was…strange, having a lost homeland that she could barely even remember. No city, no parents. Sometimes she felt like the girl that time had forgotten. A tigress adrift.

…She shook her head. There was plenty of time for deep thoughts later. Right now, there was work to do.

Maya ducked back inside the building. “Pogo?” she shouted once more, this time with irritation beginning to creep into her voice. Where was that damn bird? It was just like him to disappear as soon as any real work needed doing.

“…Yeah?” came the faint response a few seconds later, from somewhere near the front of the building.

THERE he was. Finally. Was he on the roof again? “Are you still working on inventory?” she continued, stepping out of the storeroom and into the main space of the store itself. “If you’re done, then I’ve got a whole delivery of magical supplies that needs sorting and restocking.”

“Uh-huh,” came the non-commital reply from outside the front door. “Just a sec…”

Maya huffed. Honestly. She could see Pogo’s long, thin legs dangling from the edge of the roof outside the front door, so clearly he wasn’t up to much of anything.

The female moved across the room with purpose, her bare footpaws striding across the wooden floor. As she reached the door, she swung her arm upwards with a practiced precision, aiming for the intersection of the male’s legs. There was a satisfying SMACK as the back of her furred paw slammed squarely into the kestrel’s crotch, hard enough that she could feel his twin orbs flatten briefly through the cloth of his pants.

“AWH!” Pogo squawked in surprise, doubling over in pain. “[i]Fuck![/i] I-…I said I was coming!”

Maya rolled her eyes. “Yes, and I definitely believed you.”

“Nngh…” The bird let out a low groan. “You know, you don’t ALWAYS have to go straight for my nuts.”

“It’s the only thing you pay attention to!”

“It’s the only thing YOU pay attention to,” he countered.

Maya snorted. “Well unless you want ANOTHER punch in the balls, you’d better get moving.”

“Okay, okay!” Gingerly the male hopped down from his rooftop perch, cradling his aching testicles in one wing. “Geez.”

Pogo was a few years younger than Maya, but he had worked at the shop for almost a decade now. The kestrel was tall and lanky, with a bright smile and a disheveled mop of brown feathers on the top of his head. He was easily the most talented tinkerer that Maya had ever met, with a natural skill for turning scrap metal into wild new inventions. Granted, it was rare for one of Pogo’s inventions to actually be USEFUL for anything…but still, it was impressive.

Unfortunately, Pogo was also the most absent-minded, distractable bird-brain in the entire world. Keeping him on task was a constant struggle. A slap in the balls was usually enough to get his attention, but on a few occasions Maya had gotten frustrated enough to kick his nuts into his throat. She always apologized profusely afterward…but damned if it wasn’t effective at making him work harder.

Maya walked back inside. “Here, follow me and I’ll show you where the supplies are. They should be mostly minor enchanted items, maybe a couple amulets—“

“Uh, boss?”

The tigress spun around, exhaling loudly. “What now?” she asked, trying to sound as patient as she could.

“Uh…” Pogo was still hunched over with one wing cupping his balls, but now he was looking out at the horizon. “I, um…I think we have customers?”

“Hm?” Maya narrowed her eyes, peering out into the wastes.

Sure enough, someone was approaching from across the sand. There were a pair of figures: one big and bulky, one small and lithe. It was hard to tell their species from a distance, but from the big one’s hunched posture and shaky limp, Maya knew that the stranger could only be—

“—Male,” she muttered, frowning in recognition. Somehow men were ALWAYS getting into testicle trouble around these parts.

Pogo looked over at her. “You want me to clear the back room?”

The tigress nodded. “Yeah, that’d be great.”

“On it.” The bird saluted with his free wing, then shuffled back into the store, still nursing his bruised ballbag.

As the travelers continued hobbling closer, Maya was able to make out a few more details. In fact, she recognized the pair — they were two adventurers who had stopped by the store just a few days prior, looking to restock their supplies as they journeyed out towards the ruins of Calico. The big one was a bull: all brawn and horns and muscle, with biceps as big as her thighs. The small one was a fox: chatty and quick, with a sly, deceptive grin.

Maya frowned. As she recalled, the fox had been rather rude, scoffing at her wares and then leaving without buying anything. It was fine to browse, of course, but the rudeness was irritating. Still, business was business. If they needed help and they had the coin to pay for it, she was more than willing to assist.

As they grew closer, the female could finally make out their conversation.

“My BALLS,” moaned the bull, his voice hoarse and ragged. He was leaning on his partner for support, and clearly it was taking all of his focus just to keep walking instead of crumpling into a heap. One big hand was clasped protectively to his groin. “Oh gods. Oh GODS.”

“ENOUGH about yer fuckin’ BALLS,” the fox groaned. The smaller male was clearly exhausted, straining to keep his massive companion upright. “We’re almost there, damn it.”

“Hey there!” Maya called out, trotting out to meet the weary pair of travelers. “Need a paw?”

“My [i]balls[/i],” blubbered the bull, eyes watering.

“YES PLEASE,” shouted the fox, shoulders trembling with exertion.

—

“So tell us what happened.”

After a few more minutes of struggling, Maya, Pogo, and their two newest customers had all managed to make it into the building. The bull — Marco, his name was — was now sprawled out on his back on a large wooden table, groaning pathetically as he clutched at his wounded calf-makers. His partner Lemmy sat in a chair beside him, rolling his eyes so hard that they seemed ready to fall out of his skull.

“A fuckin’ AMBUSH, that’s what happened.” The fox wrinkled his muzzle, spitting on the floor with disgust. “I dunno, I barely got a look at ‘em. Marco just hit the ground and started squealin’.”

Maya frowned. “Multiple attackers, or just one?”

Lemmy threw up his paws. “One, I think? I have no idea. I turn my back for literally five seconds, and suddenly Marco is curled up and wailing.”

Maya looked over at the bull. “Do YOU remember anything, big guy?”

Marco sniffled and shook his head. “I…[i]ohhhh[/i]…I think he BROKE something.”

The female cocked her head to one side. “‘He’?” she questioned.

“Y-yeah?” the bull replied shakily.

Maya glanced over at Pogo. “Are you sure you were attacked by a guy? It’s just that, uh…most of the testicular injuries that we see around here are female-inflicted, so to speak.”

The fox snorted. “Pff. You think some chick’d be strong enough to take down a stud like Marco? Good fuckin’ luck.”

…Cute. Maya took a slow, deep breath, resisting the urge to boot Lemmy in the groin and create yet ANOTHER testicular injury.

“Okay then.” The female approached the table, looking down at the incapacitated bull. “It sounds like you could use a doctor. Mind if I take a look?”

“That IS why we came here,” snarked Lemmy.

Maya chose to ignore him. Gently she placed a paw on the bull’s thigh, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “I’m gonna need you to spread your legs, big guy. And to take your pants off.”

Marco groaned wordlessly, but he complied. With visible effort, the bull pried his hands away from his crotch, lifting his hips off the table and pushing his leather breeches down until Maya could finish tugging them the rest of the way off.

The tigress tossed his clothing on the floor and leaned in to take a closer look at the bull’s injured junk.

Marco was well-equipped, even for a bull. His thick length slumped limply across one thigh, leaving his heavy nutbag exposed. Carefully the tigress reached out and took his sac in both paws, earning a quiet, anxious moan from the injured male.

“I’ll be gentle,” Maya warned, “but still, this will probably hurt.”

Marco whimpered, gripping the edge of the table with both hands.

Maya had been handling balls for years now: big ones, small ones, furry ones, scaly ones, and just about any other kind that you could think of. For whatever reason, testicular trauma was a VERY common injury in Bahzra. She always seemed to burn through her stock of dragon spunk potions as fast as she could order them. Sometimes she wondered why males weren’t a little more proactive about protecting their plums, given how often they seemed to get pummeled, but she wasn’t about to complain about the extra business.

The bull’s left nut had clearly taken a beating, but all things considered, it was holding together alright. Maya gave the orb a gentle squeeze to test its integrity, and nodded approvingly at the sharp squeak that Marco let out in response. His gonad had clearly swollen a few sizes, and it was squashed out of shape, but it would probably heal just fine given a few weeks, even if it hurt like hell in the meantime.

His right nut, though…hmm. The tigress felt around gently, eventually locating one…two…three distinct pieces of testicle hanging out in the right side of his sac. With every touch, the bull let out a soprano gasp, his thighs twitching and his eyes watering. Thankfully his ball hadn’t been TOTALLY liquified, but it was a good 60% of the way there. It could probably be repaired, but only just barely.

“Ah.” The tigress bit her lip. “Yeah, that’s not super great.”

“What’s the damage?” asked Lemmy.

“Well, good news and bad news.” Maya looked up at the bull, whose eyes were squinted shut in pain. “Your left nut should be fine. Like…don’t me wrong, you wouldn’t want to get it pounded that badly on a regular basis, but once in a while won’t cause any major issues. Maybe a small decrease in fertility.”

Marco let out a wounded moan of acknowledgment.

“But your right nut, uh…” Maya winced. “It’s kinda…broken? Not COMPLETELY pulped, but um…definitely popped at this point.”

The bull let out a louder, more despairing moan.

Beside him, Lemmy looked a bit queasy, his ears flattened against his skull. Still, the fox tried to act nonchalant. “O-okay,” he muttered, averting his eyes from his partner’s sac, “fine, some asshole popped his ball. That’s why we’re here. Can you fix it?”

Maya let the bull’s balls slip from her paws, taking care to put them down as gently as she could. “…Possibly? I dunno. If I squeezed his ball back into shape, a healthy dose of dragon spunk might be enough to get it to stay in one piece, but it’s hard to say if it’d actually be functional.”

“Oh gods,” warbled Marco. “I told you we should have bought some of that stuff before we left.”

Lemmy ignored his partner’s cries. “How much?” 

The tigress squinted at the bull’s nutsac. “One full bottle would be enough for most guys, but your friend here is pretty well-endowed, and his ball is halfway to jelly. He’s gonna need two bottles minimum.”

The fox exhaled, clearly annoyed at his partner’s inconveniently large, inconveniently shattered testicles. “Ughhhhhh FINE. Two bottles, then.” He reached for the pouch at his hip. “Can’t believe I’m actually buyin’ this shit. Last time we were here they were 100 gold each, right?”

Maya blinked. “Um. Actually, they’re 300 a piece.”

“WHAT?!” Lemmy glared at her, suddenly tense. “Yer kiddin’ me! That shit was 100 a bottle last time we were here!”

“I…no?” the female replied, confused. Sometimes she sold her surplus at a discount — expired dragon semen was a NASTY thing — but 300 was the normal offering price. “Maybe we were running a sale the last time you were here, but this is definitely our usual price. Pogo, back me up on this.”

“She’s right,” the bird confirmed, nodding. “The stuff’s expensive. It’s imported!”

The fox scowled at both of them. “This is some fuckin’ bullshit, is what it is.”

Maya frowned. “Look, if you buy two bottles I can cut you a deal and sell ‘em for 500 total. That’s the lowest I can go.”

“400,” he countered.

“I’m not going any lower,” the tigress replied, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

“J-just pay it!” croaked Marco, still sprawled on his back. The bull shuddered, tears at the corners of his eyes. “It’s my BALL, man!”

Lemmy grimaced. “That’s literally our entire earnings from this trip,” he growled, fingers clenching and unclenching.

“And these are literally my last two bottles,” Maya countered. “Sorry, I really can’t go any cheaper. I’ve got a business to run.”

The fox scowled. “Fine. We’ll buy one, then.”

“What?” gasped Marco, half-hysterical. “Buy both, BUY BOTH!!”

“FINE.” Fuming, Lemmy unhooked the leather pouch at his hip and thrust the entire thing into Maya’s arms. “Just take the whole thing. Gods!”

The tigress managed to catch the bag before it slipped through her arms and fell to the floor. “Thank you.” She opened it briefly, quickly rifling through its contents to make sure the adventurers had enough coin to cover their purchase. It looked about right. Even if they were a few bits short of 500, she could let that slide. She hooked the bag on her belt, patting the pouch with one paw.

“Want me to fetch the restraints?” asked Pogo.

Maya nodded. “Yes please. I’ll get the spunk.”

The preparations didn’t take long. Maya had done this dozens of times, and by now she and Pogo could secure a patient in under a minute. Soon Marco’s arms and legs were bound to the table by ropes of strengthened leather, his powerful thighs spread wide to provide the tigress with full access to his mangled marbles. Maya climbed up on to the table to join him, kneeling carefully between the male’s legs so that his ’nads would be in easy reach.

“This will be quick, but I need full cooperation from both of you, alright?” Maya looked pointedly at the still-disgruntled fox. “You’re gonna be responsible for feeding him the spunk when I say so.”

“Why me?” asked Lemmy.

The tigress held up both flasks of dragon semen, swirling their contents to make sure they were well-mixed. “Because you know Marco better than we do, so hopefully you can convince him to actually drink the stuff.” Maya had tried a sip of dragon spunk once, and sure enough, it tasted like she had just sucked off a dragon. She wasn’t sure what else she had expected. “Plus this way, if you spill any, you can’t blame ME for it.”

“Fine.” The fox still wasn’t happy, but dutifully he took the bottles from Maya. “Might as well get our money’s worth.”

“…The straps should be all good,” Pogo reported, climbing out from underneath the table. “I doubled the knots just in case.”

Maya nodded, sitting back on her heels. “Great. Marco, you ready?”

The bull was quivering with dread and anticipation. “I-I think so?”

Maya folded her arms under her breasts. “This is gonna hurt like hell, you understand? It’s gonna feel like I’m popping your ball all over again.”

Marco moaned in resignation. “Nnnnnff. O-okay.”

“Alright then.” The tigress cracked her knuckles, then scooped up the bull’s ballsac in her paws. “Let’s do this. Lemmy, start feeding him bottle #1.”

The fox looked down at his comrade and placed the opened bottle to his lips. “Open wide,” he drawled sarcastically, then tipped the bottle into the bull’s mouth.

“Mmph!” Marco’s eyes went wide at the taste, but dutifully he swallowed the thick white liquid, gulping it down.

Maya waited a few seconds until the bull had finished the first half of the bottle, and then she went to work. With an experienced precision, she probed the right side of the male’s ballsac, locating the one…two…three separate pieces of his fractured testicle. Quickly she gathered them between her paws, then firmly pressed them together, trying to reassemble them into one cohesive lump of flesh.

“[i]Nnnnn!!![/i]” The bull made a panicked noise, his nostrils flaring and his legs tensing to either side of her.

“Keep drinking!” she commanded. She let her grip loosen slightly for a second, but as soon as she did, she could feel his broken ball start to drift apart again. Apparently, more pressure was needed. Gritting her teeth, she began squeezing in rhythmic pulses: crushing the male’s nutmeat into a ball between her paws, then giving the abused flesh a brief moment to recover before repeating the process.

“[i]NNNNNN!!![/i]” Marco was fully squealing now, his restraints pulled taut as he tried instinctually to double over and protect his scrambled gonad. A bit of dragon spunk dribbled from one corner of his mouth as he finished the first bottle.

In the corner, Pogo was growing increasingly pale. The bird held both hands over his groin, his own ‘nads aching in sympathy. He had seen this plenty of times before, but it never got any easier. “I’m just, uh…” He took a step backwards, moving towards the door. “I’m…gonna go start restocking those magic supplies, okay?”

“Mm-hmm,” replied Maya, eyes narrowed as she focused on her work. Pogo slipped away quickly.

Setting a testicle looked like a simple process from the outside, but it was a deceptively delicate operation. Maya had to squeeze hard enough to hold the pieces together while the dragon spunk did its magic, but not so hard that she did even more damage. A little too much pressure, and she’d end up with paws full of goo. 

On the other hand, if she was too gentle, his gonad wouldn’t heal right — it would be incredibly fragile. If this guy was anything like the other bulls she had met, he probably accidentally sat on his own low-hangers at least once a week. It wouldn’t do for his calf-maker to pop again the first time he sat down funny. Bad for business.

And of course, even if the tigress did her job perfectly, she would probably cause SOME kind of minor damage in the process. Alas. Testicles were such finicky things.

Thankfully, the bull had much larger balls than her typical patient, so his ‘nad was a little easier to work with. The tigress clamped her paws together even tighter, ignoring the bull’s high-pitched wailing as she forced the shattered orb back into an approximation of its usual shape. It was a little bit like packing a snowball…if the snowball was attached to a twitching, squealing male. She could feel the nugget of nutflesh squirming in her grip, bubbles of bollock peeking out from between her fingers.

“Give him the second bottle!” she called out, glancing over at the fox.

The fox looked down at his partner. The bull’s eyes were wide but unseeing, and his cries alternated between desperate screeches and quiet, panicked mewls.

Lemmy looked at the vial of white liquid in his paw. “Uhh…” Wincing, he lifted it high, then tilted it into the bull’s open mouth.

The bull choked and spluttered, but still managed to swallow most of the potion, even as agony radiated through his entire body.

Maya continued to focus on her work. Now that the ball was starting to set, she began to check up on some of the details. The cord to his testicle seemed alright, thankfully, so he did have SOME chance of regaining functionality. The reconstructed testicle seemed a little smaller than its twin, but that was fairly common after a rupture, especially when a nut had been cracked into multiple separate parts. Up close, the difference was obvious, but from a distance his balls would both look pretty normal.

As Marco finished the second bottle of dragon spunk, he finally found his words again. “Ohhhh GODS,” squeaked the bull, his hips trembling. “My ball, my fucking [i]BALL[/i]—!“

“Shhhhh,” soothed the female. Thankfully, the worst was over now. The tigress held her breath as she eased her iron grip on the round-ish lump…then exhaled in relief as it held its shape. Cautiously she stroked her fingertips around the surface of the “orb”, feeling for any obvious issues. She could feel his testicle almost vibrating beneath her fingers as the dragon spunk took effect, his gonad slowly and painfully knitting itself back together.

Lemmy looked a bit green. “Did it, uh…?”

Maya nodded slowly, leaning in close to peer at her handiwork. “It worked, I think.” She inspected the repaired orb for a few more seconds, then oh-so-gently set down the bull’s nutbag. “It’s back in one piece. Seems like it’s holding together pretty well, but it’s going to be really fragile for the next day or two.”

“Ohhhhhh gods,” croaked Marco again, trembling on the table. The entire process had only taken a minute or two, but few others had endured such a uniquely male form of torment. His entire body glistened with sweat, and his stomach heaved in deep, gasping breaths. The tigress had been right: having his nut repaired HAD been just as painful as getting it popped in the first place.

Still, despite his ordeal, the bull was already starting to look a better. Moments before, his muzzle had been twisted in a pale mask of agony, but now the color was beginning to return to his face. He summoned enough energy to prop himself up on his elbows, looking down at the busty tigress between his legs. “It worked?” he asked again, his voice tense and hopeful.

“Yep!” she repeated. “Good as new.” Maya scratched her ear. “Er…well, no actually, I shouldn’t promise that. You’ve probably lost most of the functionality in your right nut. But you’ve got two balls again, that’s my point.”

The bull let out a shuddering breath, visibly relaxing. “THANK you,” he wheezed. “Oh fuck.”

Maya smiled. “Heh. You’re welcome.” She scooted backwards, hopping gracefull off of the table. “Now let’s get you out of those restraints.”

The tigress beamed as she undid the tight knots that had held he patient in place. It felt good to help. She’d patched up dozens of busted balls over the past few years, and it was always a fascinating experience to hold a man’s unborn children in your paws. She wasn’t always successful — some ruptures were beyond saving — but for the most part, she usually managed to salvage things. It felt empowering to help a male put his reproductive future back together, and it was kind of cool to be a pivotal figure in so many sex lives.

With the last of the leather straps removed, Marco slowly sat up to examine his freshly reconstructed testicle. A look of wonder and relief quickly spread across his face as he gazed down at his groin, marveling at the gonad that he had almost lost.

Maya grinned and watched him gently cup his calf-makers in his massive hands, treating them like the two most valuable jewels in the world. Males always looked so damn GRATEFUL to get their nuts back. And this guy hadn’t even lost them both!

Lemmy, on the other paw, looked rather disgruntled at the whole experience. The fox fidgeted in place, restraining himself for a minute or two while his partner recovered, but eventually he could hold his tongue no longer. “…Okay, well, I’m glad you’ve got yer fuckin’ balls back.” He thrust his paws in his pockets, scowling. “Now how long until he can walk?”

“Oh, it should only take a minute or two,” answered Maya, watching the bull carefully fondle himself. “You’d be amazed at how fast dragon spunk works to relieve nutache. His balls will need a few days to fully heal, but you two should be able to leave as soon as you’d like.”

Marco nodded shakily. “Y-yeah, I’m feeling MUCH better. Holy shit.”

“Glad to hear it.” The fox looked at his partner. “Are you ready to go, then?”

“Huh?” The bull blinked, still dazed. “Uh…y-yeah? I think I can—…yeah, I think I can walk now.”

“Good.” Lemmy paced restlessly, pausing next to Maya. “Then let’s get out of this dump.”

Maya rolled her eyes. Clearly the fox wanted to leave as soon as possible, but he was being a bit of a dick about it. “Don’t forget your pants,” she joked, moving to retrieve the bull’s discarded trousers for him—

[i]Shing.[/i]

—But suddenly, there was someone at her back, and something cold and sharp pressed against her throat.

“Don’t move, bitch,” threatened a voice in her ear. “You better hold very fucking still.”

“L-…Lemmy?” stammered Marco in surprise.

“Shaddup,” Lemmy commanded. The fox adjusted his grip on his dagger, holding the blade against the soft fur of Maya’s neck. “This bitch thinks she can take all our fuckin’ money for two fuckin’ bottles of dragon cum. No way.”

Maya stayed motionless, fighting back a growl of frustration as she realized what had happened. The fox was holding her up! Adrenaline raced through her veins, and she clenched her fists at her sides, considering her next move.

“Now,” Lemmy continued, “I’ll just be taking our gold back.” His free paw slid around her body, giving her left breast a lewd squeeze for good measure. Quickly he found his pouch at her hip, and began trying to unhook it from her belt. “And after that, you can show us where you keep the REST of your gold — we’ll be taking that too.”

Maya bristled: at his groping, at his words, at everything. More than anything, she felt embarrassed. She had been held up before, of course — it was pretty much inevitable out here in the wasteland — but never like this. Never after HELPING someone. Her ears burned with anger, and her mind raced, looking for a chance to fight back.

The dagger against her throat was…not too sharp, actually. Or at least, the fox wasn’t pressing it to her throat all that hard. He seemed to be having trouble removing the pouch from her belt with just one paw. The male grumbled, distracted. His grip on his dagger loosened.

It was all the opportunity that Maya needed.

In a sudden motion, the female thrust her head backwards, slamming it into Lemmy’s face. At the same time, her paw shot upwards, grabbing the fox by the arm and pushing it away. Lemmy was so surprised that the knife flew from his fingers, landing point-down several yards away, embedding itself in the wooden floor with a quiet [i]thunk.[/i]

“Hey!” Lemmy shouted, surprised and alarmed as pain exploded in his snout. He fought to keep the female restrained, trying to wrap his arms around her and keep her still. “You—!”

But Maya wasn’t finished yet. Before the fox could say another word, the tigress shifted her balance, raised her right knee, and then rocketed her footpaw backwards and upwards into his ballsac in the hardest heel kick that she could muster.

[i]WhooshTHUD.[/i]

Maya’s aim was imprecise, but given the force of the blow, it had the intended impact. Her bare footpaw pounded up into the fox’s spunk-makers, hard enough that she could feel both orbs against her heel as they were crushed against the hard bone of his pelvis. The rubbery spheres squirmed in place for a moment before each squirting away to freedom, saving themselves from total annihilation in the process.

The effect on Lemmy was immediate. “Awp!” the fox yelped, biting his tongue. Agony shot outwards from his groin like shrapnel from a bomb. His arms tightened instinctively around Maya, as though trying to cling to her for balance.

Unfortunately for the male, that was exactly the wrong reaction. Gritting her teeth, Maya lowered her footpaw and then immediately slammed it upwards once more, lifting the fox up onto his tiptoes and pounding his balls into pancakes. One testicle managed to slip out of the way as it was crushed flat, but that left the other orb to absorb the full impact of the kick by itself. There was a muffled [i]crunch[/i] as the male’s left gonad briefly lost its shape, forced to permanently rearrange its contents in order to avoid splitting in two.

Lemmy’s cry leapt into a soprano octave, his eyes watering. “My…!” he gasped, voice high and thin. The male collapsed to his knees, trembling as he let go of the tigress and instead moved to clutch his damaged sperm tanks. He bent forwards until his muzzle nearly touched the floor. An horrible, lopsided nausea churned in his abdomen. “[i]My…![/i]”

Maya’s heart pounded in her chest as the male crumpled behind her, curling up into a ballbusted heap. That was one threat taken care of, at least for now. But now the big bull Marco was staggering to his feet in front of her: a hulking tower of muscle that could knock her out with a single heavy blow—

There was no time to hesitate. Darting forwards, the tigress cocked her leg back, then unleashed a mighty punt into the pants-less bull’s dangling jewels.

Marco’s eyes went wide. “I—!“

But before he could say anything more, Maya’s footpaw came crashing into his ballbag with nut-shattering force. The big bull let out an effeminate squeal as his freshly-repaired gonad promptly disintegrated between her toes, turned to paste in an agonizing instant. His thick cock slapped against her ankle, firing a single spurt of white across her shin. The shock and pain of an obliterated testicle was simply too much for the poor male to take, and the half-neutered Marco passed out before he finished hitting the ground.

Maya couldn’t help but wince as she undid her own repair work. No amount of dragon spunk could save a spud that had been THAT thoroughly mashed. Still, she had felt his lone surviving nut squashed against the top of her foot — quite distorted, but intact — so at least the male still had SOMETHING in his sac. She lowered her leg, biting her lip as she watched the halfstrated bull collapse into an unconscious heap.

But apparently the fight wasn’t over yet. Maya’s ears swiveled at the sound of movement close behind her. Without even looking, she spun around to face her unseen assailant, her knee coming up like a fuzzy sledgehammer—

[i]Thump.[/i]

“AWWHH!”

The tigress blinked…and discovered her knee buried in Pogo’s groin.

The bird doubled over involuntarily, his beak almost buried between Maya’s breasts as her powerful thigh lifted him up onto his toes. His plump gonads quivered on the edge of rupture, moulding themselves to the shape of the female’s leg in an effort to save themselves from destruction. Twin explosions went off in his gut. Tears sprung to the male’s eyes, and an image of two cracking eggs flashed across his vision.

Maya’s eyes widened in surprise, and she immediately dropped her leg, allowing Pogo to land shakily on his own two feet. Several different emotions ran through her head at once: guilt, confusion, relief.

The emotion that came out of her mouth was anger.

“Wh-…wh-why are you sneaking up on me?!” she demanded, blushing furiously.

Pogo coughed weakly, as if his testicles were now rattling around in his throat. “Ohhhh [i]fuck,[/i]” he wheezed, legs trembling beneath him for a moment before he slowly fell to his knees. He clutched his sac in both wings, checking to make sure that his nuts had not just been turned into peanut butter.

Maya looked back and forth quickly, scanning for any remaining threats. Marco was unconscious. Lemmy was…well, he wasn’t unconscious, but judging from the thin mewling noise he was making, he had been safely disposed of for the time being.

That just left the ballbusted bird who was now kneeling at her footpaws.

“Well?!” Maya asked. Her heart still pounded in her chest. “Why would you—?!”

“I…[i]ohhhh.[/i]” The male shivered, agony coursing through his veins. “I-…I-I heard you fighting! I came to help!”

“To HELP?”

“YES! Th-they were attacking you, right?”

“…Ah. Um.” The tigress paused, looking down sheepishly at her crumpled companion. “I, uh…I guess that does make sense.”

“[i]Fuuuuuuuck.[/i]” Pogo bent over until his beak touched the floor, his face twisted in a grimace of pain. Wave after wave of nausea radiated outwards from his flattened ’nads — a strong warning from his body about just how close he had come to being castrated. Even now, his orbs felt like they were being trampled beneath Maya’s footpaw, squashed out of shape and ready to burst. “[i]GODS,[/i] my fucking [i]BALLS.[/i]”

Maya winced. “They’re not, uh…I didn’t pop anything, did I?”

Pogo let out a guttural, shuddering moan. “N-no,” he confirmed after a long moment. “Th-they’re still there. Just…[i]ohhhhh.[/i]”

“Oh thank the gods.” The tigress chuckled nervously. “I mean, like — we’re fresh out of dragon spunk, right? That would have been BAD.”

“Nnnrgh.” Pogo let out a haggard, rasping laugh. “F-fuck, Maya, my nuts are gonna ache for a MONTH.”

Maya shifted awkwardly in place for another moment…then finally dropped to her knees, joining her friend on the floor. “…Listen, man, I’m really sorry,” she said finally, cheeks burning with embarassment. “I thought you were attacking me, so I just, you know — I kicked as hard as I could.”

“I could tell,” groaned the bird sarcastically.

“Sorry!” she repeated, blushing.

“No no, it’s not…[i]ohhhh[/i]…i-it’s not your fault.” Pogo panted, his eyes narrowed to slits as he squinted at her through the pain. “It’s just, like…[i]FUCK[/i] your legs are strong! Like, everything is [i]intact[/i], but I might be shooting blanks for a while, you know?” He gave a weak chuckle, trying to ignore the apocalyptic ache that was echoing through his entire abdomen. “Y-you really could have broken something.”

Maya bit her lip and looked away for a moment, taking stock of the situation. The bull and the fox were both incapacitated. At some point she would need to tie them up and drag them off to see the sheriff, but it would be a while before either of them was capable of moving. In the meantime, she could afford to spend a few minutes helping the bird recuperate.

An idea occurred to her, and she paused. She HAD been a little rough on Pogo today, and he WAS in need of a check-up. Why not give him something nice? He deserved it.

“I could, uh…I could jerk you off, if that’d help.” The tigress curled her fingers and made a loose up-and-down motion in the air. “You know, just to make sure everything’s still working.”

That got the kestrel’s attention. Pogo perked up, straightening slightly — though a fresh jolt of nutpain quickly made him double over once more. “Nngh. Uh, y-yeah! That’d…that’d be great.”

“Cool.” She slid a little closer, placing a paw on his thigh and giving it a friendly squeeze. “Though we’ll have to make it quick. And I’m gonna need you to stop clutching your junk first.”

“Oh, right now?! Uh…s-sure!” With a grunt of effort, Pogo managed to let go of his aching nutbag and force his wings to his sides. He watched, pained but eager, as Maya deftly undid the buttons at the front of his trousers, tugging his pants down a few inches to expose his swollen balls and rapidly hardening dick.

Maya murmured approvingly, curling her fingers around his cock and giving it a gentle pump. “Been a while since the last time we did this, huh?”

“Y-y-yeah,” he stuttered, his talons curling as a jolt of pleasure and nutache raced up his spine. Indeed, it had been a few months since Maya’s last “apology handjob”. That time, she had crushed his left gonad so thoroughly that it had taken a full day to reinflate back into its usual round shape.

Still, the abused kestrel couldn’t help but feel greedy for a bit more. He watched her paw move up and down for a few seconds, shuddering as she cupped his wounded balls in her other paw. “Um…any chance you’d be willing to take off your top, too?” he asked innocently, staring at the tigress’s ample chest.

Maya glanced down at her own breasts and smirked. Releasing the bird’s sac, she swiftly cocked back one claw, then flicked it forcefully into his bruised left ball. “Let’s stick to the handjob, bud.”

“AWK!” Pogo squawked in surprise, jerking forwards. His eyes watered as fresh nutache blossomed in his gut. “[i]Ohhhh.[/i]” He stared down at her paw as she continued to pump him: his cock throbbing between her fingers, agony churning in his gut. “Y-…y-yes ma’am…”