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He Said, She Said | Forum

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ruptered Apr 12 '16
He Said, She Said

By y_n0t_g0_4_1t

I'd like to see some other stories like this. Realistic scenario.  Two perspectives.  It’s sloppy.  I wrote it fast.  It might also be a little inconsistent: I wrote he said yesterday and she said today.  Enjoy it for what its worth

He said:

I think everybody knows from age too young to recall that boys have something girls don’t.  When I was really little, its apparent utility was to allow me to pee standing up.  I think I learned about its more proper function sometime between third and fourth grade, although I didn’t have a complete understanding of even the mechanics until a bit later.  However, I learned I think I must have been in first grade when I learned getting hit in the crotch was uniquely painful.  I saw it on TV, asked about it, and my parents told me.  I didn’t put much thought into it – it was like it wasn’t a reality at all.

The first time I got hit in the balls was on my bike.  I was speeding down a hilled road, hit some broken pavement, and came down on the bar.  Remembering the incident is like watching a movie without sound – almost an abstract or out of body experience.  I think I blacked out.  The next thing I remember was crying the whole way home, and I remember it being very sore for the rest of that day.  I also remember that I made it a point to never ride on that side of the street again!  I also remember saying to myself that I would never do that to a guy in a fight.

I think by fourth grade, girls had finally figured out the dragon had a weak spot, and by the end of middle school, just about every guy I knew had been kicked in the balls by a girl.  I think in the beginning a lot of girls were experimenting with it, and nailing guys for all kinds of offenses, many relatively minor.  Thus, if you wanted to include girls in your group and not be absolutely prim and proper all the time, you took a chance.  For the most part it wasn’t on our minds, but you could kind of tell sometimes if the girls were in a ball kicking mood – either because they were pissy or because they were hyper.  Some guys would antagonize them even more, perhaps enjoying the danger.  Not I.  There were also one or two girls that did it a lot, and those that encouraged other girls to.  But in those times, the only thing I think I could speculate compares to the threat is fearing that you’re going to get your period for the first time in front of everyone.

Seeing a guy get kicked in the balls by a girl was a very unsettling experience.  Whenever it happened, the guy would fake a reaction if for nothing else to avoid being accused of having nothing there – and the girls would play along too.  But you knew when she scored a real one.  When that happened, the girls either felt bad (if it was an accident) or vindicated (if they did it to right a wrong), but it was always a giggle fest.  Sometimes it would be straight up laughing out loud, and if it was on purpose it was a high fives.

The first time for me happened when I was in 6th grade. Now I had been kicked at, and missed, and gone through the fake routine often enough.  But I’m talking about for real. There was a girl named Kristy, and she was talking to her friend Amber at the bus stop.  I was friends with them both, and fooled around with them a lot.  I walked up behind Kristy, made a motion for Amber to be quiet, and gave Kristy a nice firm two handed ass grab.  She was more offended that I thought, and just as I was about to say “I’m sor…” Her knee was in my crotch. 

Direct hit.  Beans and the frank – but believe me, it’s the beans that count.  This time I didn’t black out, so I recall what it was like.It wasn’t pain that put me on the floor, but an animal instinct.  The pain isn’t like what you’d think: it’s not like getting hit in the arm multiplied by 100.  In fact, I think its most like getting hit in the funny bone and getting wind knocked out of you simultaneously, times ten, and at the same spot.  There are three things that make it horrible.  First, nature gives man instinct to cover his valuables, and you can’t help your reaction.  I grabbed mine immediately, and went oooooh, ooooooh, ooooooh, oooooh, as I sank to my knees and then to my side.  I’d like to have said excuse – walked into the bathroom – and gotten it out in there.  But I had no choice.

Second, it in the balls and a girl did it. The balls aren’t just the cause of the pain; they’re the location of it.  It’s symbolic.  Plus, it’s a little scary.  And as bad as it is, it can’t be done back to her.  She might think you deserved it, but how can she know if what you did deserved that?  She might feel bad, but what does she know.  Worst of all, she gets to walk away when she chooses while I get to get up when I can.

Third, they enjoy it and you can tell.  When I went down, I heard Amber go, “Awwwwwwww,” in pity but it was mixed in with a chuckle.  She then said, “You didn’t have to do that.” 

Kristy said, “Yes I did.  Now he knows not to mess with me.” 

Amber said, “Yeah, especially when your in a mood,” and they both laughed their asses off.

So there I was on the ground.  I don’t want to get up – the more I moved, the more my nuts hit my legs, and I just don’t care to.The two of them just carried on chit-chatting like nothing had happened and when Amber said, “Aaron, what do you think?” and the both of them laughed out loud once more.

Now I’m starting to get up and Amber said, “Know who I think ought to get kicked in the balls?”

Kristy said, “Who?”

Amber said, “Joe So and So” (I forget who now).

Kristy laughed and said, “That’d be awesome.  He totally deserves it.”  I wondered what in the world he could have done.

The bus pulled up.  I walked on like I just got done motorcycle riding over rugged terrain.

Amber blurted out, “Kristy kicked Aaron in the balls!!!!!!!” and there was an uproar of laughter, perhaps because it was obviously true and obviously a real hit.  Jackie asked why.  Kristy explained.  Amber, Melissa and their friend Chris all agreed that she was perfectly entitled.  Two guys on the bus said that’s fucked up.

She said:

The first time I saw a guy get hit in the balls was on TV.  It was the very first episode of Americas Funniest Home videos.  A guy swung a golf club and the ball ricocheted and hit him in the crotch.  Mom laughed like it was one of the funnier videos and almost seemed to laugh on purpose. Dad and my two brothers groaned. I didn’t get it.  Nevertheless, it created an odd and even enjoyable tension in the room, because they were uncomfortable with mom’s particular enjoyment.  Then, it got replayed because it was nominated to be a money winner.  That’s when I got it: it hit him in the dick.  I never thought about it, but getting hit in the dick must not be very fun, but it is kind of funny, so I laughed to.  And it was like me and mom were on the same page.  It was cool.

I didn’t really think about it as something I could do to a person, but when it happened on TV or by accident I thought it was funny.  Then, one day I was sitting on my friend Annie’s front step.  Annie’s brother was in the backyard with his friend and the girl from across the street that hung out with them.  The boys were throwing pine cones over the house so that they would come closer and closer to hitting us.  Annie finally had enough of it, jumped up and stormed to the back yard.  I meekishly followed. 

When she got there, she said, “Tim, do you want me to kick you in the balls again?” At that Nicky, the girl they hung out with, busted up laughing.  There was a tension between Annie and her brother and even her friend.  The boys said nothing.  Annie said, “That’s what I thought.”

What stood out in my mind was first the idea of actually hitting someone there, second that she said “the balls”, and third that she said “again” as if she had already done such a thing.  More subtle was the fact that she threatened to kick, and not hit.  When I though about that, it seemed obvious since it was on the lower half.  Also, not that I sadistically wanted to do it, but I certainly tucked the idea in my head into the compartment labeled ‘might be useful’.  I was really impressed, again, by the tension it created and the effect the threat alone had on the boys.  It was kind of like being on the winning team, knowing it, and loving it.

Hanging out with Annie I got to see her kick Tim multiple times, and even though I think he was faking it, it was hilarious every time.  I started having fun saying, “I’ll kick you in the balls”.  I just liked stressing the word ‘balls’ because it was fun and threatening and almost a curse.

The first time I saw Annie connect one was not her brother, but her brother’s friend Jeff.  He mouthed off to her when Annie and Tim were arguing, and she unloaded on him.  Everything stopped while we watched this boy fall to the floor, roll on his back and squirm like he was getting his braces tightened.  I was speechless.

Annie, half laughing and half sincere, said, “Oh my god, I didn’t mean to do that.  It just happened.”  I started laughing too, mostly because of the situation. I mean, he sure seemed to be in a lot of pain for such a little accident.

Annie said, “Tell Jeff I’m really sorry,” and we both skipped away.  Argument was over, with Jeff and Aaron’s jaw on the floor.

The first time I took a shot at it was completely instinctive.  My own brother was getting in my face and I raised a knee at him.  I didn’t even think about it, but we both noticed where the knee would have landed.  In fact, Aaron more than noticed, he flinched.  So for the next six months or so I made fake groin shots and lots of boys just to laugh at them flinching.  It was actually pretty good training, because in fifth grade, the boys rally started trying their best to get on our nerves.

There was on girl named Jess who threatened to kick boys there all the time but never did.  I guess I was kind of like that too. Jamie was crazy though, because she had actually kicked boys at school.  Two in fact.  The boys knew it, and they treated her differently for sure, although not always for the better.  Some just like to push it.  A lot of us would kick at guys – I did this a lot – and not really do it hard but not stop short either.  If the guy said we missed, we’d just say it was because they didn’t have anything.  Once in a while you’d here about a girl really kicking a guy in the balls, either on purpose or by accident, but I had never seen it happen.

The first time I connected was outside during recess.  This stupid dork kid was running around, roaring at me and my friends, throwing grass at us and acting like he had powers to use against us.  It just wasn’t very impressive and was making us feel stupid for him.  Then he set himself up – except he didn’t know it.  He was there, legs spread just right, paying attention to my friend Amber and not me – I just felt like the target was there.  I don’t know why I did it, but something took over and I did.

He grabbed at his nuts like they always do, but I could tell by his face I scored.  He went down with sort of a “bwah, wah, wah, wah” like a baby.  He laid, rocking back and forth in a fetal position, going ‘owwwwwwwwwwww’. As he went down, my friend went, “Whoooooooooo!”  And right there and then, I knew I did something good.  First, we got to walk away and not be bothered.  Second, it was obvious we didn’t have to worry.  In fact, I liked looking down at him the way you like looking at a puzzle you just put together.  Third, talk about feeling like being on the winning team: and it’s so deserved too.  Boys always get to feel that way, and if this is what it takes to get a piece of it, so be it.

People ask why it’s so funny.  Some of my friends like the reaction.  Guys get the Three Stooges; we get to see guys get hit in the balls.  The look on their face, the falling over.  And that’s all good.  But for me, it’s that it happened.  It’s that it was in the balls.  And all that stuff is just funny because it’s proof.

So, it really not that big a deal that I kneed Aaron.  My mom was bitching at me all morning, my brother took my lunch instead of his, and I looked like shit.  Just was I was venting to Amber, I feel that jokers hands grab my ass.  And it wasn’t’ just a little grab.  Don’t get me wrong, I like Aaron, but there some things you don’t do.  And I had had enough.  I didn’t decide to do it.  As always, I just did it.

And boy did I ever.  The look on his face said it all: surprise, but not the good kind!  Amber felt bad for him, but I think he deserved it.  He got up, and the bus showed up, and of course Amber had to spill the beans.  I got my obligatory congrats, but these two guys kept bugging me about it.  I mean get over it!  I didn’t knee them.  And I’m not the one who put them there.  Besides, I didn’t mean to do it, it just happened, so it’s not really my fault.  Aaron shouldn’t have grabbed my ass.  One of them asked me what its like to kick a guy there, expecting me to say great or something so he can attack me.  So I said, “Squishy.”  All the guys groaned, the girls said ewww, and that ended it.

Later that day I saw Aaron walking to class.  He was still walking funny.  And it was like looking at that puzzle.  I did that.

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