Cockfight for Sally

Sally scoffed and pushed us apart.

"You need better targets." She said.

She reached into her purse, and found two hair bands for making ponytails. Quickly and efficiently, she wrapped a band around Jack's scrotum, so his balls were cinched together tightly. Then she did the same to me. Our balls were now quite exposed and bound together, such that there was little room for them to move, and no way for them to retract.

By this time, this situation felt strangely appropriate. I wanted to fuck Sally, and obviously so did Jack. This was the quintessential cock block. Bound as we were to the bedposts, we were prevented from fighting it out with our fists. What seemed like a very odd scene that Sally had created, now felt quite natural. If she had released us now, I think, we would have continued with our cockfight. When two dicks need to enter the same pussy, a punch to the face does not seem right. But rather a cock-fight, a direct attack on the other man's sexuality, the source of his hormonal drive, is the right and less violent way to get to the heart of the conflict. If one of us had won a fistfight, it would have done nothing to resolve the sexual tension of this love triangle. But once one man's penis has defeated another man's penis, right in front of the woman both men desire, the conflict would be over forever. That kind of loss would forever scar man's sense of sexual pride, and he certain would never want that woman to see him, and his losing cock, again.

With Jack and I kneeling on the bed, and Sally standing before us, her breasts were right at our cock level. She playfully, used her tits to caress our dicks. Her nipples poked and played with our erections in a gesture that drove us over the edge. The battle was on.

He parried a shot of mine by leaning to the side. But I got my cock under his balls then flipped it up. I missed his balls as he leaned back. My penis shot up into the air allowing his shotgun to position under my sex. He fired in a blow, but he only managed to brush past my sack.

My cock fell down on top of his, and he quickly leaned forward. I just managed to twist before my hard-on would have rammed into his lower abs. But with his dick under mine, again he tagged my balls slightly. This time I felt a twinge on impact. As I registered shock and pain of that assault on my masculinity, it was as if some of my sexual potency transferred to Jack: the pain in my sex provided some pride that could just be witnessed in the size of our erections.

I rolled my penis off his, and we rested, catching our breath for a moment, again with our lances crossed, dangerously positioned to stab each other's balls. This time we were aware of the danger the other man's weapon posed. But again, our desire to do damage overcame any sense of defense.

Instead of repeating our previous rapid violent stabs, our crossed spears moved forward slowly into the other's balls, which were now fully exposed by Sally's hair-bands.

I strained to use the side of my shaft to push the side of his shaft over. But he did the same and held his ground. It was like an arm wrestling match, except with our cocks. As we struggled to force the other man's cock out of the way, it seemed like arm wrestling was just a sublimation of cock wrestling.

With our sexual battering rams now tip to balls, we made several small vicious taps. Each time his cock hit my right testicle, it dished out a little pulse of pain that I did my best to hide. But I was sure I was reciprocating this pain-exchange. I could see his eyes blink every time I pushed in. This was going to come down to who was tougher, who could take the most ball busting.

From Sally's perspective, it must has seemed like very little was happening. Our two shafts were pressed together length to length, each cock tip jammed into the balls of our rival. Slowly and forcefully we bucked our hips as if we were connected.

I heard Sally say under her breath, "Fuck him up."

And that's what it must have looked like, two men trying impossibly to enter each other. But it was far from a pleasurable experience. With our swords penetrating each other's body via the scrotum, we both had our cock resting on the other's pain button, pressing it over and over until we stopped bucking our hips and just maintained a constant pressure.

I closed my eyes to concentrate and suppress the pain. I could feel my dick starting to fade, so I turned my attention to Sally again for inspiration: her body, those lips, hips and breasts. The thought of sex with her diminished any pain I felt.

Then under the pressure, something gave, and our cocks slipped past our rival's balls. We knocked foreheads. I would have fallen into Jack, if not for my wrists being tied to the bedpost, holding me back.

We retracted and brought the tips of our cocks into contact. Pushing forward, the length of each dick ran up against the other, shaft to shaft. Two piss slits pointed up at me. Unlike before when we pressed length to length, our balls rammed together much harder, as they were held tight by Sally's hair bands. For a moment, we pushed our balls into each other, and looked down to see whose testicles were forced back.

For the first time, I could see that we were perfectly matched in length and girth. That is obviously critical in such a contest where an extra inch of erection length means victory in a cock joust. Before, I was sure I was longer and stronger, but now it was clear that Jack was a worthy foe.

For a few moments, we took measure of the other man. Then Sally leaned in, and took hold of our dicks yanking them up. We knew what she wanted.

Our hatred of each other had grown to its apex. We pounded our balls in; our testicles crushed together. The source of our sexual drive came into violent conflict. Again and again. Our weapons, the instruments of inflicting pain, our balls, were the very targets and source of pain. Our aim was to buffet, diminish, and destroy our rival's organs that produced the hormones that drove us and made us virile, which produced the sperm that made us fertile. Our virility, our Chi, collided.

I couldn't help making an animalistic growl.

We slowed to just pulsing and grinding motions, forcing each other's balls back into our bodies. But confined as they were by the hair bands, our balls could not retreat. It looked like Jack's scrotum was turning purple.

Our energy was fading, and so were our dicks. They still pointed up to the ceiling, pressed together, shaft to shaft, but were noticeably shorter.

Sally cupped our balls in her hands again, and gave them a little squeeze. Then she grabbed our cocks with her hands, and held them together tightly.

"Make him cum!" she commanded.

On command, we rubbed our sticks together to make the other man fire his load. Inside the grip of Sally's hands, the length of his shaft ran up the length of mine. As our stomachs pressed into Sally's hands, our balls came into contact. My shaft slid up and down his shaft. He reciprocated, as we each used our own erection to stimulate the other man's erection. There was no way I was going to be brought to orgasm by a man! And I relished the opportunity to see this punk humiliated by spewing his load.

The undersides of our erections were in direct contact. The point just under the tip of my penis, my most sensitive body part, was in direct contact with Jack's. As our nerve endings stimulated each other, I could only hope that was the most sensitive part of Jack's penis too.

It was a test to literally match erogenous zones to demonstrate superior masculine control: maintain an erection while enduring stimulation. This was a task every man performs when making love, stay hard as long as he can to satisfy his women. Women continually castigate men for not lasting long enough. Sally had turned this male task into a contest between Jack and me.

The problem was that I was losing. It wasn't that Jack was going to make me cum, but quite the opposite. I would never cum by touching another man's dick. Touching another man's genitals was repulsive to me. When I looked down to take measure of his cock to get a better angle of attack, I started to lose my erection. And by going soft, Sally might declare me the loser.

So I kept looking at Sally's body for inspiration. That sent me off the other end. Sally kept mashing her breasts together with her forearms as she gripped our battling dicks. My dick hardened again. Feeling Sally's soft hands, and seeing Sally's perfect body, were too much for me. I was going to cum. Jack knew it, and started to rub harder.

I had enough of this. I pulled back, falling back onto my bedpost, and caught my breath.

Sally released her hands and sat back.

Jack stood his ground, looking arrogant and proud as if he had just defeated me, and I had retreated. His cock rose high and hard on display for Sally.

My blood boiled. I sat up quickly, thrusting my erection forward, and nailed him right in the left testicle. Sally and I could hear a deep "Oh" sound come from Jack's stomach as if the tidal air was expelled from his Chi. Then I retracted, aimed and slammed his right testicle. He howled and reeled back against his bedpost.

He was damaged, but I could feel the anger well up in Jack. He leveled his cock at mine and said, "Fuck you, you prick!"

I accepted his challenge, and lined my erection with his. We weren't aiming at the other's balls this time.

Sally's eyes grew huge as if she were a little girl looking at world's biggest cake on her birthday. She started to finger herself absently, pressing her finger on her clitoris, as if pointing out to us the prize for winning this contest.

On queue, as if by agreement, Jack and I charged forward ramming together, cock-tip to cock-tip. There was a crunching sound as the tips met. I felt a sharp pain in my dick. But ignoring that, I leveled by shaft to strike again.

It's not easy to use your erection as a lance, and hit a target as small as the tip of another man's penis. It took some control, and concentration, for Jack and I to test each other in this way. But it helped that we were both intent on ramming head to head.

We stabbed forward again hitting perfectly tip to tip. Our erections impacted with full force. The collision was so powerful that if felt like my shaft was driven back into my body.

I looked down to evaluate the damage, and I could see we were both a good inch shorter. Our cock heads were mashed together and our shafts were quivering, but we were both still quite hard.

For the first time, I looked into Jack's eyes and he looked daggers back at me. I could feel the venom in his blood, his desire to win Sally and the pulse of his heartbeat, as we looked each other in the eye with our cock heads still mashed together. We both literally were trying to reduce the other man's sexuality with our own, trying to push the other man's erection back into his body. For a few seconds, we stood our ground, staring each other in the eye as we jammed our cock head into the other man's cock.

Then we took a breath and hauled back, lined up our dicks again and threw ourselves forward intent on driving the other's tube back into his body. The impact was tremendous.

The slits at the end of our erections were forced apart, as we strained against each other. It felt like my cock was going to split open at the tip. I could feel the moisture of the opening of his penis, as our dueling dicks engaged in a perverse violent kiss. Our cocks looked like two snakes biting the other's heads.

For the fourth time, we drew back and rammed cock heads.

There was a snap-crack sound, then Jack screamed in obvious agony. I felt little resistance, and in fact, I felt a slippery moist feeling as if my hard-on just entered an inviting pussy.

All three of us looked down to see the sight of Jack's BROKEN cock. It was bent at a ninety-degree angle, and just as surprising was that the tip of my spear was actually forced right into the tip of his penis. It looked like his snake had opened its mouth to swallow a mouse: it had swallowed my cock.

I tried to pull back but I was stuck. The long hard straight line of my shaft extended from my body, and connected with his. But his cock was no longer straight; it was frighteningly bent at the middle.

I tried to shake this sad hose off mine. I found as I moved, the top end of his penis moved with mine, while the bottom half of his penis stayed firm. It was as if I controlled, I owned, his cock. His dick responded more to my command, the motion of my body, than to his. Jack was silent looking down at the destruction of his sexuality by mine.

Sally jumped off the bed, and rushed behind Jack.

"Are you okay?" Sally said into Jack's ear.

I tried to shake his penis off mine again to no avail.

"It looks like he broke your cock, Jack." Sally said looking over his shoulder.

Jack looked down with horror at the sight of his defeated genitals.

Sally looked like she was going to kiss Jack's ear as she whispered, "Jack, tell him that his cock is better than yours."

Jack didn't say a thing.

"You were pretty arrogant a few minutes ago." Sally reached around and touched the base of Jack's shaft. "I think you said your cock would destroy his."

Jack's face revealed an intense pained look as Sally gripped the base of his penis.

"Tell him!" she ordered.

"Okay, okay," Jack said looking down at our still connected snakes. "Dude, your cock is better than mine."

I could see that he was straining to lean back, but Sally was holding him up. Sally smiled at me as she stepped aside.

Jack slowly leaned back away from me, giving me a more room to extricate my erection from the bite of his, as I leaned back. There was another pop sound as my masculine pride came free. His cock seemed even longer now, but was completely limp like an over-cooked spaghetti noodle.

"You fucker!" Jack yelled. "You've broken my cock."

Sally stepped around the bed, and took my victorious cock into her hands. She rolled it over on her chest, and stuck it in her cleavage as reached behind me.

My hands were free. I grabbed her and pushed her back on to the bed. She opened her legs, and in a second my dick plunged into her pussy.

As I pumped away, she said, "Yes, yes, yes. You are the best. Your cock totally beat his."

I could feel that as a result of this encounter my erection was bigger, stronger and better than ever before. It was as if Sally had just given me a gift, or in fact had created a mechanism for some of Jack's virility to be transferred to me.

Postscript for Literotica Readers: I'm sure many will have a basic "this sucks" or "this is great" kind of comment/reaction. I encourage comments, but please contribute why you hate this theme or like it. Is it homophobic, homoerotic, misogynistic, or female empowering? Is that the reason you have your reaction? Maybe there is some kind of sadist or masochist quality of power, humiliation or subjugation that is attractive or repulsive? I think there is a passionate minority of people with this unique fetish of enthusiasm for catfights and/or cockfights. What drives this?

I contribute this prurient violent fictional story because I have not found this kind of theme in erotic literature, and I know many people are excited by it. Most stories that are about cockfights are really just sublimated homosexual encounters, or just using the word cockfight as a joke. Personally, I have a passion for female sexual conflicts, and mostly write about this. Is there any connection between the catfight and cockfight fetish?