The Fourth Challenge
by Bastige
In a prequel to the story "Challenge", our heroine defeats an earlier challenge by her male roommate

Because I was a little drunk, I decided to tease my roommate. As he
vaccumed the apartment, buck naked as always, I walked behind him.
Whenever his legs would part, I would kick my foot up between them,
trying to catch his balls with my toes. I usually failed to connect, but
each time he would jump in surprise. On those rare occasions when I did
connect, I didn't kick hard at all, certainly not enough to hurt, but he
would still give a little grunt and press his legs together. I would
laugh uproariously, but he would say nothing. A lot had changed since his
early days as a macho man, I thought.

When he was finished vacuuming, I had him fix me a drink, and I sat down
to watch TV. I told him to watch with me.

"I'd rather not," he said, glancing toward his bedroom.

Of course, that decided it. If he'd rather not, I'd rather he did. I told
him as much, and reluctantly he sat down on the couch and pulled up his
knees to conceal his cock and balls. Of course, I didn't approve of that
either. Getting up - wobbling a little out of drunkenness - I fetched a
ball of green yarn from my room and brought it back. As he watched in
apprehension, I cut off a piece about six and a half feet long. I then
advanced on him unsteadily, grinning a huge grin.

"Spread your legs," I told him gleefully.

"Oh, no." He pressed his legs tighter.

"Don't disobey me unless you want to challenge me again," I warned him
with a wagging finger. That put a look of fear into his eyes - as well it
should, since the last three times he had challenged me had seen him
writhing on the ground in pain. Submissively - which was hilarious in a
man of his size and build - he opened his legs to me, exposing his
manhood.

Reaching down, I looped the yarn three times around his scrotum,
tightened the loop, and made a knot, watching his face crumble as his
fears were confirmed. I then tied a loop on the other end, and held this
loop in my hand as I sat down on the recliner.

"I gots yer balls on a leash, boy!" I commented, slurring slightly.

As we watched TV, I would occasionally give little jerks on the yarn,
causing him to jump. Nothing hard, nothing that could hurt him - that was
my rule. Unless he challenged me, he'd be safe from harm...just not from
humiliation. But humiliation was taking its toll, and I watched him grow
angrier and angrier as I bounced his nuts on my string. Finally he could
take it no longer. He grabbed the yarn in his hand.

"Can't you just leave my balls alone?!" he demanded.

In response, I tugged hard enough that the yarn slid painfully through
his grip and jerked a bit on his testicles.

"I could, but I don't wanna," I taunted him. "Are you challenging me?"

He said nothing.

"You shouldn't challenge me," I warned him. "You're doing so well, you
only have two days to go before the month is up!" At the end of the
month, his period of subservience would be over, and he'd be allowed to
put on his clothes and stop being my servant around the apartment.

"Of course, if you challenge me, you'll lose," I continued. "Instead of
that string it'll be my hand on your balls, and you'll be begging to be
where you are now."

That got him. Some deep-seated reservoir of pride burst, and he yanked
the yarn out of my hand, saying "OK, I fucking challenge you then!"

Immediately, grinning like a kid, I jumped up out of the recliner and
started stripping off. He got a knife and cut the yarn off of his balls,
angrily throwing it in the trash. When he got back to the living room, I
was as naked as he was, bouncing on my toes. In spite of himself, he
stared. I don't blame him; my curves are pretty delicious, and I'm in
good shape.

"Do you like my body?" I asked, pushing out my D-cups and doing a little
sexy pose. "Take a good look."

In spite of his anger, his penis began to twitch upward, betraying his
arousal.

"I like your cock," I told him, realizing in the back of my mind that I
was drunk and shouldn't be saying this. "It's too bad I'm going to have
to kill it when I grab your balls."

He walked forward, his cock now fully erect and sticking straight out at
me. I admired its male beauty, and felt a tingle between my own legs. Now
was not the time for this, I thought. He came to stand across from me,
his posture upright, his fists raised. Before, he had tried to wrestle,
taking advantage of his high school wrestling experience. Now he was
going to keep me at arm's length, I thought.

"Are you ready?" I asked.

"Yup," he responded.

"I just have one thing to tell you," I slurred, stumbling toward him,
arms down.

As he waited to hear what I had to say, I recklessly booted him right in
the testicles with my right foot. He was caught completely off guard. He
emitted a sharp shout of pain, then charged forward and sent me sprawling
on the floor with a punch to the face. My head felt like it was on fire,
and I saw stars. But no more punches followed. After a few moments, I
dragged myself painfully to my feet and looked around. My roommate was
lying curled on the floor, his hands around his busted balls, his face
scrunched tight in a rictus of agony. Tears were leaking out of his eyes,
and he was making a tiny strangled whimpering sound.

I stumbled over to him, lights flashing in my head. I squatted down and
looked into his pain-wracked face. "Do you submit?" I asked him groggily.
He nodded, pathetically. I stumbled off to go put on my clothes.

When I came back, fully clothed, holding an ice pack over my black eye,
he was still on the floor, writhing back and forth, hands between his
legs. Dimly, I hoped I hadn't broken anything. I watched him for about
ten minutes as he cried into the carpet. Damn, I thought, I really got
him good. Eventually I went to sit next to him on the floor, trying to
soothe him, running my hands over the curves of his nude body.

"It's OK," I said, "it's OK, it's over."

"You fucking bitch," he breathed softly, face buried in the carpet.

"Yeah..." I felt a pang of remorse. "Guess I am. Here, move your hands."
He was too weak to resist as I moved his hands from his balls and applied
my ice pack to them. He gasped but seemed to feel a bit better. I held
the ice pack over his groin, stroking his face with my other hand.

"That was a good punch," I told him. "I'll have a black eye for a week."

"You can stop taunting me, thanks," he groaned, putting a hand over his
tear-stained face. "Oh God, you fucked my balls up bad."

"Worse than the second time I squeezed them?" I asked, remembering his
pitiful state after that hard-fought battle.

"Fuck, I don't know," he admitted. Putting my free arm under his arm, and
still holding the ice pack to his battered gonads, I helped him to his
feet. He stood, doubled over, catching his breath. I handed the ice pack
to him, and went to get a wet cloth. Coming back, I cleaned off his
tear-stained face. Without realizing what I was doing, I reached down and
wiped his penis. Sadly, it showed none of its earlier friskiness.

What am I doing?, I thought to myself. I must be drunk.

"You were doing so well, too," I said sadly, teasing him a bit to break
the mood I had just inadvertently created. "Now it's a whole month
longer." He made no reply, but staggered to the couch and collapsed
there, breathing heavily.

"Drink?" I asked. He nodded. I fixed us both drinks, and then went to get
my ball of yarn. When I came back with the ball, his face absolutely
crumbled in dismay.

"Oh no," he moaned.

"Don't worry!" I chirped. "It's not going around your balls this time!
They've taken enough for one day."

For the next hour and half, we had a very nice TV-watching session. My
roommate recovered surprisingly quickly from my boot to his nuts, and I
had lots of fun tugging my little piece of yarn and watching his silly
naked penis dance in response.