A Father's Advice Goes Unheeded

A memory, loud and powerful, like a rocket surging from its launchpad, flared in Jackson’s mind at the exact instant a searing pain, originating from the place where his legs came together, roared through his body. As he withered from the consuming agony, curling up on the floor like a scorched grapevine, Jackson saw in his mind’s eye his father’s large figure hunched over on one knee, his head resting on his hairy forearm which was pressed against the wall. His mother, in a cornflower blue summer dress with its thin straps showing her narrow, delicate shoulders, as she glowered down at his stricken father, glanced up and, no doubt seeing the consternation on her son’s face, turned away and stomped off down the hall.

Jackson could feel something wasn’t right. There was a thickness in the air he had never felt before and it pressed on him so heavily he couldn’t move, or even speak. So he stood there, feet rooted to the ground, staring at his father. After a few long seconds, his father must have felt him standing there and so he turned his head, revealing to Jackson an awful, utterly defeated expression, his eyes bloodshot, his jaw clenched in a grimace. The sight of his big, strong father looking so pained and helpless nearly caused Jackson to collapse as a small twinge of terror gripped him. Before his legs gave way, Jackson’s father tried smiling at his son. As weak as it was, the small grin was enough to dissolve the tension enveloping Jackson and he took the opportunity to draw nearer to his father.

“It’s okay, son,” Jackson’s father said, in a pinched tone that was a far cry from his usually strong, deep voice. He motioned for Jackson to come closer, wincing as he raised his arm from between his legs to beckon his son. When Jackson failed to move, he waved again and then groaned, quickly pulling his hand back to his groin. Realizing the effort his father was making, Jackson rushed forward and put his hand on his father’s back.

“Are you okay, Dad?” Jackson asked tentatively, as he felt his father’s muscles quivering under his touch.

“I will be,” his father assured him.

“What happened?”

“It’s a long story. One I don’t have the energy to tell right now. Just know that I will be just fine,” Jackson’s father said through several heavy breaths.

“What about Mom?”

“Your mother is fine, too. She’s just a little upset at the moment.”

“Did she do something to you?” Jackson asked, unable to fathom the idea that his diminutive mother could ever hurt his father. As he asked, Jackson could sense some indecision on his father’s part by the way he looked at Jackson and then dropped his eyes. “What is it, Dad?”

With a heavy sigh, Jackson’s father looked up, bewilderment swimming in his eyes. “Jackson,” he began but then closed his mouth and shook his head. Jackson waited as his father collected himself. “Your mother and I had a disagreement. I upset her so she kicked me where it hurts us boys most.”

Jackson cringed at hearing this, recalling how much it hurt when he’d slipped off his bicycle seat and landed squarely on the cross bar. “Why would she do that?” He cried.

A sad grin played on his father’s mouth as he considered his answer. “I might as well tell you now, I guess. Sometimes boys do things that upset girls. And sometimes, when this happens, the girl might choose to hit him in his private area.”

Seeing the uncertainty and fear on his son’s face, Jackson’s father righted himself and swept his hand through Jackson’s hair. “It’s okay Jax. Don’t look so worried. It’s just a part of life. But,” he said, taking Jackson’s chin in his hand, “know this. If it ever happens to you, just grit your teeth and bear it. It hurts a lot, but you’ll get over it. The truth is, if you made her mad enough, like I did your mom, then she probably had every right to make your boy parts hurt. You just have to take it like a man.”

“But I don’t want to get hit in my privates!” Jackson cried.

“Then don’t do anything to make a girl mad,” Jackson’s dad said, chuckling softly.

“I won’t,” Jackson vowed.

Now, as he curled up on the floor, he realized he’d broken that vow. Worse, he still didn’t understand his father’s words. Jackson could feel the anger rising inside him. He looked up with one eye and saw the fuzzy shape of Liana’s young, but womanly figure, towering over him, her arms making half circles as she rested her hands on her hips. He wanted to grab one of them and fling her against the wall.

Except he couldn’t. His guts were a cramped mess and his testicles were screaming with pain – which only made him angrier. Instead, he closed his eye and curled up tighter, wishing like hell the pain would stop.

“I bet you remember my birthday next time. By the way, do your balls hurt?”

Jackson’s eyes flew open at Liana’s smug taunting. He wanted to yell ‘fuck you’ but swallowed it down, instead letting the indignation fuel him. With all his concentration, he pushed through the pain and pulled himself to his feet. He teetered for a moment but then righted himself so that he loomed over his girlfriend. He could hear his father’s voice faintly in the recess of his brain but chose to ignore it. He glared into Liana’s smirking eyes while trying to think of what he should do in retaliation. He thought she would shrink back at his aggressive stance and it sent a small shock through him when she merely smiled back slyly. It was like she was inviting him to get back at her. Fine, he thought, I will. He drew his arms back to gain momentum with the idea that he would shove her so hard she’d fall hard on her ass. That would teach her.

But instead of teaching her, Jackson became the pupil yet again as Liana swung her small foot, encased by the shiny red high-heeled shoe he’d bought her, straight into his groin. As she smashed his balls again, Jackson’s arms went from lashing out at Liana to cupping his jewels with both hands as he sank to his knees.

The pain was blinding. Jackson gurgled and groaned. “My balls,” he moaned. “Oh god, my balls.” Before he could slide to the floor, he felt Liana’s hand cup his chin and pull his face up to hers with surprising force. He looked at her and found she was smiling. It wasn’t a malicious smile, but rather one that suggested unbridled delight by what she’d done.

“Now I know your balls hurt,” she said, sounding pleased. “You can’t hide that look from me. It’s such a perfect expression. That I-just-got-kicked-in-the-balls-by-a-girl face every guy makes when a girl, well, when she kicks him in the balls. Mmmm,” she purred into Jackson’s face before releasing his chin.

Jackson’s head drooped, his mind reeling – from the pain, from Liana’s brazen taunting, and worst of all, from his realization he could do nothing about any of it. It hurt so bad that Jackson thought he would do damn near anything to stop the pain. Without meaning to, he whispered aloud, “Oh god, please make the pain stop.” Liana’s voice was like salt on an open wound.

“Sorry buddy boy. Not gonna happen,” Liana sang, her tone devoid of comfort. “Too bad for you your balls are just gonna hurt until they don’t. And hopefully they hurt for a good, long time.” With that said, she pushed him down, once again leaving him curled up at her feet.

Maybe next time he’d look her in the eyes when they were talking instead of staring blatantly at her boobs. Liana glanced down and shook her head. They did look pretty damn good, though, especially the way they popped out from the wide, plunging vee of her dress’s neckline. It would take some serious concentration to maintain eye contact, but that was his problem, wasn’t it? Liana sighed contentedly. Alas, she thought, good thing for me he just didn’t have the willpower and it gave her an excellent reason to refocus his attention. Which she did. With a swift kick to his balls.

To be continued?