How my knee met Bob's testicles

I got a feeling there was nothing more controversial than when I wrote that during the course Linda allowed us to test our freshly obtained self defense skills on Bob and Peter not wearing any protection, leading to an unfortunate accident when my knee ‘met’ Bob’s testicles in a quite unpleasant way. Linda sought to provide us with the unique possibility of getting as much realism in our training as possible, which is simply impossible with heavy groin guards and padding. It wasn't a piece of cake for either of us, but luckily nobody sustained any real injury, although sometimes it was a close call. I would say it was a miracle, given the seriousness and brutality techniques we learned and the ferocity with which we tested them on the two boys.

Looking back this was the Lindas course's added value and the uniqueness of her approach greatly helped us build our confidence and empowerment. Exploring the male body and its weaknesses on our own and ‘learning by doing’ was part of Linda’s pedagogical philosophy which made the course very special and effective (unfortunately also controversial).

When our training endeavor was approaching the end, we became increasingly proficient in whole action sequences, not only knowing how to attack testicles properly even till the point of their rupture but also other sensitive spots: eyes, Adam’s apple, knees, penis, and even the coccyx.

I did not realize the young guy in the hood
having me in a bear hug was Bob. 

Ultimately Linda gave the boys instruction to realistically play out a vicious attack on each of us that would come in surprise; we did not know when and where this try-out would happen. Bob and Peter were told not to hold back and act like real attackers and we were supposed, not to pull any punches in our response. This was the occasion to show our mastered reflexes, our situational awareness, our ability to unleash what’s inside us, what we have learned, and whether we can use it when needed. This concept scrutinized our readiness for the dangerous real-life world.

The day the unfortunate incident happened—it was late afternoon—I was coming back from lectures and was excited for the class, to have fun with other girls and Bob and Peter. This time I came in a bit early. The hallways towards the dojo were long, shady, and quite creepy but I confidently walked through and was about to enter the dojo when it happened out of the blue. Suddenly two strong hands wrapped around me putting me in a tight bear hug. I got completely immobilized and my hands were pinned. Because it was dark at that spot and the person was wearing a hoodie, I could not see who it was, but my strength was no match to his.

After the initial shock, the adrenaline and training just kicked in, and thanks to God, I did not freeze. I made a quick plan in my head; some of my strong body weapons were not blocked. In the first step, I made a sharp head-butt to startle him and to loosen his hold a bit, which was followed by a sharp knee strike. I could not see the target so it was like a shot in the dark, I just hoped my knee would be guided by his thighs toward the intended target. But it was not a perfect shot, I could not feel the softness of his genitals. So, I quickly re-aimed for the following attempt, this time I went deeper between his legs, and voilà, the striking zone landed perfectly. His thin fabric shorts offered no protection, and I could feel I was forcefully compressing one of his testicles between the pelvic floor and my knee as I was lifting him. My kneeing concert continued. The second time I tilted the trajectory a bit, so the other male egg got equal treatment, and as Linda said don’t forget there is also willy, so I went with my knee also right in the middle, so all three friends down there were treated equally. This time my lower thigh greeted the tip of his penis, while its two eggy friends just got only a friendly whack from my patella.

The attacker’s reaction was as expected, he bent over and let me go. I followed by a sharp chop to his neck which just accelerated him to the ground.

Breathing heavily, in a dissipated adrenaline rush I looked down on the young man's muscular body, which was now folded, kneeling, holding his manhood, and cursing. I was just about to conclude the defense sequence with a resolute finishing move - a toe punt kick to the sweet spot below his butt cheeks where the back of his ball sack was exposed by his position. Luckily, before doing that, I just realized the guy on the floor was one of our darling attackers—poor Bob! I was horrified… Shit… I squatted next to him. “Are you OK?!” I asked him, but he just shook his head in clear anger.

I put his head in my lap and made him comfortable. 

“Let me help,” I wrapped his arm around my shoulder and assisted him to get on his feet. He limping, and I supporting him, we got inside the dojo. I let him lie on the bench and relax. I allowed him to spread his legs to remove any unnecessary pressure on the agitated spot and put a small pillow below to provide some cushion. To further ease the pain, I fetched an icepack from the kitchenette and helped him to place it gently on his anguished groin, sat next to him, let his head rest in my lap so he gets the best comfort possible, and affectionately went with my hand inside his blond curly hair, ruffling it a bit.

“Do they ache, Bob?” I wanted to break a bit of awkward silence.

Should not have asked, his reproach glance at me talked by itself. “Of course, they ache, stupid me,” thought to myself.

“I am sorry,” I whispered to his ears, even though we were not supposed to eat humble pie in this situation as we would not do it for a real attacker.

Ice packs are essential equipment
for female self defense classes. 

As a sign of my attentiveness, I pulled up his T-shirt halfway and started rubbing his pubic region with my hand. Not sure if it helped or not but at least I was doing something. Seeing and touching his naked body I realized how ripped he was. Why he wouldn't, he was a student of PE doing many sports and exercising daily. Bad thoughts started to flow into my head, and I became troubled there could be some serious testicular damage, a rupture, or torsion. This was not far-fetched we learned how to knee perfectly with the ability and intention to do such damage. This was the moment I was a bit angry with Linda she let this happen and put the boys' ability to produce testosterone and sperm and being such young hunks in jeopardy. Was it worth it for the sake of our training? I let the readers of this blog decide...

The almost idyllic moment was disrupted by someone who stood over us. It was Linda.

“What happened?” she asked.

“We just had a small ‘accident’ with Bob during a mock attack. I am unharmed and free, but Bob’s balls took their toll.” I answered guiltily.

From the look on her face, it was not clear whether she was happy I could defend myself successfully in a realistic scenario or she was dissatisfied that Bob was put out of action and now cannot ‘serve’ as an attacker for other girls impatiently waiting to learn male anatomy and practice their self defense skills.

“I worry, it might be serious, and he needs to see a doctor.” I conveyed my worries to her.

“OK, let me check,” Linda replied.

Without any explanation or asking for approval she quickly slipped her hand into Bob’s shorts. The examination wasn’t very gentle as Bob at some point yelped and shook a bit. It seemed she was palpating the glands meticulously but also vigorously, checking for any signs of trauma: bruising, hematoma, torsion, or rupture. She then removed her hand from the shorts, and I was anxiously waiting for the outcome.

“Well yes, I see there is indeed a serious problem… it seems our Bob is a lazybone and wants to shun today’s class,” and with the same hand she just seconds before probed his male organs gently slapped his cheek and a bit mischievously added “Isn’t it like that, Bob?”

Then she changed her tone to serious. “Don’t worry Wendy, no emergency, when he is fine, just bring him back. I planned a lot of things for you today, and the girls are impatiently waiting.”

Testicular examination is like probing
fragile eggs for any cracks. 

When she left, I could not resist thinking of doing the testicular check by myself. Not that I did not trust Linda, but I had the urge to take Bob's bag in the palm of my hand and probe the oval testes with my fingertips on the whole surface, to completely relieve my concerns. But I was hesitating to do my investigation because of the already rough handling of Bob’s testicles first by my knee and then by Linda’s hand.  

Before I could do it Susanne showed up and brought a glass of water and a pill. She handed it to Bob, but before that, she humorously commented. “Seems the dangerous attacker once again got what he deserved!” But she was nice, she advised us on remedies to mitigate the testicular pain, some were quite weird such as rubbing the toes! Again, not sure if it proved a magic cure but it was fun.

To my pleasure, she also suggested doing the genital examination under her supervision, so I do not feel guilty and can do it correctly. “We learn how to damage testicles but should also know how to heal them, or at least make an informed decision whether to see professional help” she winked at me.

I caressed Bob's head kindly and asked for permission.  He agreed. It was a strange feeling. Susanne gave me, a dummy on this topic, a thorough guidance on how I should palpate the testicles and what signs and irregularities I should look for. “Handle them like fragile two eggs you examine for a crack. Not as good as ultrasound, but our sensitive fingers can do the job as well,”  she said.

We also pulled down his shorts and inspected the testicles visually, and although they looked a bit swollen and with a blue hue, Susanne assured me there was no indication of hematoma, the icepack should provide sufficient relief and the pain should go away in a couple of minutes.

Indeed, after some time, Bob showed signs of recovery, and I decided to follow Linda’s order to bring him back to business.  A little bugger, he was truly lazy, acting like being glued on the bench and not willing to get up so I had to use a mild enforcing technique like swinging my hand above his bulge to warn him what could happen if he did not follow my demands. Then I made a mock GTP movement in the air and asked him “Bob, you don’t want to be pulled to the class, do you?” This worked perfectly and he slowly moved out of his ‘den’. 

In the following days, I was often rewinding the moments of the incident, the initial shock and adrenaline rush, the tenderness of the orbs being crushed, and how impactful my technique was on a much stronger young guy. It was a very strange but at the same time, empowering experience and I am a bit ashamed to say I wanted to go through it again… Was it all Linda’s plan?… Who knows...