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It had been a number of hours since Team Bloom had started their trek into Mt. Travail, and Maeve was beginning to feel a little frustrated. It wasn't just that she and Sage, a platinum ranked team mind you, had been sent on something as basic as a “scouting mission" with no good explanation. Nor was it the frankly silly amount of blast traps the duo had encountered, exhausting most of their supply of Oran berries. It wasn't even the fact that she had made a terrible error while packing this morning, bringing along not her beloved silver gummis as intended but instead white (which she really, really didn't like). No, none of those things were the source of the poor Mawhile's frustration.

It was Sage's big stupid fat balls. Her Meowscarada companion had a good foot or two of height over her, and always insisted on leading their expeditions, which meant that her view for the vast majority of their travels was squarely level on that big, bulging, wobbling, swaying sack of nuts. It almost seemed they were taunting her at times, playfully flopping against the green feline's thighs when he danced away from attacks, bouncing too and fro as he darted into combat with his Night Slash, bulging out right at her face when he'd stop to bend down and pick up a piece of loot. It didn't appear to bother him in the slightest. Sage would just merrily carry on down the dark dungeon corridors, carefree and blissfully ignorant to the fact that he was shoving his scrote all up in his traveling companion's face. At this point Maeve was quite certain she had committed every last micrometer of that feline nutsack to memory- she could recall every last wrinkle with greater clarity than she could the faces of her cousins, could predict which one of the two chubby eggs would tug up first when the air turned cold (generally the left, but sometimes righty would get overeager), she could even tell you with exact precision the amount of minor jiggles that pouch would have when he landed after firing an energy ball (almost always 3 jiggles, for whatever reason). When she had signed up to be an adventurer, she had done so to save pokemon who needed saving, to explore uncharted, treacherous new lands, and to make a boatload of Poké in the process. She did all of that of course, but she also stared at her friend's ballsack way more than she ever wanted to.

After traversing down a long and particularly narrow corridor, ruminating on her frustration with Sage's swingers, it only made sense that he would stop suddenly in front of her, causing the distracted Mawhile to walk face-first into the object(s) of her current ire. She grunted, and her false-face scowled a fang-filled scowled. Sage, and his smug balls, didn't even seem to notice.

“Hold on. I see the stairs in the next room but… something doesn't feel right." His normally sing-songy voice was low and soft- certainly a sign that he had noticed something. The Meowscarada wasn't always the most perceptive fellow, but Maeve tended to follow his instrict, if only because he was the only one who could see in front of them. He crept forward slowly, tracing his left paw along the surface of the stone wall, stopping right where it opened up into a cavernous space. That was where he stayed, leaning forward, peering into the room, looking for… something. Maeve couldn't tell what he was trying to find. What she did see was his nutbag, which had begun the curious little dance that nutsacks often do, brought upon for seemingly no good reason at all. Lefty tugged up ever so slightly in that fuzzy pouch, exaggerating its wrinkles, before drooping back down just as righty pulled up. It stayed like that for a moment, taut and wrinkled on one side and loose on the other- it was (admittedly) amusing to Maeve, if only for a moment. She pondered for a moment if Sage could even feel what it was doing- surely he could feel a lot, weren't they supposed to be sensitive? Alas, Maeve didn't have time to follow that train of thought, instead following the cat as he deemed there to be no threat and carried on ahead.

It seemed this time at least he was right- there was little between them and the stairs, save for a pair of Bibarels that the duo managed to send scampering without effort. Sage paused in front of the stairs, did a quick swivel to scan the room for any lingering pieces of loot (a movement that sent his nuts swaying once again), and then began to ascend. Stairs were one of the things Maeve loathed most of all. When they would travel downward, it was a welcome respite from those wobbly kitty orbs taking up her entire field of view- when they went up? Her problems became all the worse. She was forced to look up, right between her partner's legs, and see those pendulous plums swing from side to side, the narrow confines echoing the otherwise subtle *thwp* *thwap* of them bouncing from the black boot-like fur that crept up his legs. Each and every step up (why were there so many?) only further inflamed her ire. She couldn't tell what it was about today that made her frustration with Sage's testicles so pronounced, but she could wear nothing but a scowl on the false face that tended to show her emotions. It was when they crested the top of the stairs, and Sage decided for no conceivable reason besides perhaps to piss her off, to stop and make her boop her nose into his plums once more. That was that, it was time to do something about this all.

Sage strutted his way into the main corridor of the next floor, readying an Energy Ball as more denizens of the dungeon approached from the other side of the room. Maeve readied a move as well, her false face glinting in the dim light as it took on a metallic sheen. If Sage had been paying attention to his companion (which she knew he never did), he'd no doubt have heard the scraping of her maw-turned-Iron-Tail dragging along the stone floor. She couldn't have planned this better if she had started back at the base- Sage always adopted a particular stance when firing his Energy Ball, legs spread, slightly bent, readying to balance him against the backblast of his own attack. And quite luckily for Maeve, leaving her with a nice, fat, easy target just a-danglin' away between his thighs. Mere moments before he let slip the coalescing sphere of purple energy in his grasp, Maeve wheeled herself around and sent her metal-coated false face rocketing up between Sage's legs.

THUNK. It was a beautiful hit, squarely on target(s), the feline's rubbery orbs compressing to mere discs of nut by the force of her swing. Maeve could almost swear she lifted him off his feet for a moment, and found an additional thrill in that- those frustrating balls of his forced to bear the whole of his weight just as they were bashed to a mere fraction of their size. There was silence at first, and Sage even managed to look down and see the front of Maeve's false face protruding from between his thighs, and then he howled. The pain came suddenly and intensely, his mind going blank at the white-hot shock of agony emanating from his compressing jewels. His Energy Ball fizzled away into nothingness (surely no foreshadowing there) and he slumped forward to the ground, his chest flat to the stone floor and his rear raised up. “Oh Arceus!" He mewled and tried to clutch his bruised berries, but the brutal hit left them far too tender to the touch. So, he could merely quiver there, moaning and mewling and trying to work through the intense pain that his partner had inflicted so out of the blue.

Maeve on the other hand couldn't be happier. It felt as though months of pent-up frustration were just released by that Iron Tail, grins flashing across both her mouths while she for the first time willingly looked at Sage's nuts. Already she could tell they were swelling- his green-furred ballbag was looking much fuller than usual, the orbs contained therein visibly pulsing from the agony wracking him. A little giggled left her as she watched them try to pull up to safety, that now rather silly looking sack scrunching and sagging in arrhythmic movements, all while being idly jiggled about by his pained shaking. Now having finally taken some small modicum of revenge on his taunting testicles, she found them more silly than irritating. Still though, that didn't mean she felt like showing them any mercy. At this point her mind was clearly set- Sage would remain her teammate, but she'd no longer have to suffer through missions with an eyeful of catsack.

“Ughhh, what the fuck Maeve… my nuts… oooooh, my balls!" Sage was about to slump over to his side, but the Mawhile liked the way he was positioned, and thus kept him propped up with one arm. Thankfully, her vicious display of testicular violence spooked off their company, so she was left to consider her next move without interruption (save for the incessant whining echoing throughout the chamber). Evidently settling on some decision, she reached a hand up between his thighs and gripped his sack tightly by the neck, tugging down to force his balls to bulge out in their pouch. She considered them for a moment, those swollen, bulging spheres, and then she took advantage of his relative height which had left her at a perfect position to send her knee skyward. Caught between her grip and her knees, those unfortunate testes were once more crushed nearly flat, forcing yet another howl of protest from the cat. There was a small mercy in the fact that she didn't leave her knee up there, letting his sack flop back free, but that mercy meant nothing when a moment later she rammed her knee up again. Whump. And again. Thump. And… a few more times.

Sage had almost gone limp, his cries turning into plaintive yips for mercy that was not granted, as again and again she slammed her knee up between his legs. Unlike her Iron Tail from before, she could actually feel the silly little things against her fur, feel how they were warped and compressed from the force of her hits. It felt… well, she may have blushed if anyone was around to make her care.

Neither of them were in much of a state to count- Maeve too focused on working out her frustrations and Sage too wracked from the racking that he couldn't hope to form a coherent thought. Eventually her leg got tired, and so she released his sack and took a step back, finally allowing him a moment of peace. Now those nuts were really swollen. She hadn't noticed it in the moment, but apparently her knee had hit the one on right a bit more fully, leaving his bloated ballbag looking comically lopsided. It reminded her somewhat of how it had behaved earlier, lefty all scrunched up and tight, and righty hanging low, only it wasn't really hanging that low with how overstuffed his sack seemed to be. How lucky for him that she'd relieve him of that extra stuffing!

Maeve finally gave the poor kitty some time to breathe, if only so she could collect herself and take a moment to look around the room for errant pokemon who may be trying to sneak up on them. Whether it was the thumps of what sounded like heating combat, or the pained squeals that followed them, the two remained undisturbed. So, Maeve turned her attention back to the cat, and back to his balls, still wobbling about between his clenched thighs, his body apparently too wracked by pain to even consider falling from his pose. That certainly made things easier on her! She briefly considered going for the finishing blow- but the more logical part of her brain reminded her that with his nuts so woefully lopsided it may be too challenging to get 'em both in one go (Was that even necessary? She wasn't sure- this was the first time she'd taken away someone's manhood). It made a certain sense to her, and so rather than winding up another Iron Tail she shimmied right back up between his legs, and once more took hold of his scrote. Sage was too out of it to offer much more than a pitiful mewl, one that went up an octave or three when she singled out his comparatively unharmed left testicle with her hand.

She fiddled with it a little, none too gently, and found it challenging to keep a good grip on the damn thing. It just kept squicking out from between her fingers, almost like it was trying to hide behind its bruised and swollen brother. A defiant scowl flashed across her false-face, and she snatched at his pouch, once more singling out her prey and holding it firmly between her fingers, her free hand balled up into a fist- which promptly came rocketing in to pound that plum. Sage squawked, his legs nearly giving out, and his nut almost doing the same. She felt it give perhaps a little more than she expected it might, and rather than sending another punch in there opted instead to simply grind her knuckles against it.

“AaaahhHH MAEVE!" Sage groaned, fresh pain blossoming out from his dangly bits as she rolled her fist against his ball, all of that agony centered on that one silly little nugget. All he earned for his complaints was another giggle, and some more pressure, his ball gradually losing its shape as she carried on. After a few moments more (a few eternities for the cat), she released him so she could eye her handiwork. Mission accomplished! His left teste wasn't quite as swollen as his right, but she had certainly plumped it up and created a more equitable pair of targets. Lovely. She gave lefty a quick swat for its cooperation, and then stood.

“M-Maeve, c'mon…" Sage whimpered, blissfully able to slump down to his side at last. The movement made his sack flop over his thigh, eliciting another quiet oof. His body was still shaking, and he finally found the wherewithal to try and protect his balls with his hands, though at this point they were a little too bruised for it to do much good. A small chirp suddenly sounded out, and a brief flash of light drew both of their attention to the little platinum badge fastened to Sage's chest. Maeve huffed in annoyance. Shit. Apparently she'd roughed him up enough that it was pinging them for a rescue. There were another team or two in the area for their scouting outing, which meant if Maeve was going to finish this, she needed to do it fast. Sage no doubt realized that too, if his wide eyes were any indication. He tried to drag himself away from her for all the good that it would do, but the lingering agony of his balls being softened up by her brutal ministrations left his arms feeling like the jelly his balls were soon to be.

And even were he in peak form, Maeve was, despite her height, stronger (what good those balls did for his muscle mass, eh?). With little effort she managed to get him flipped onto his back, batting his legs apart with her maw so that she had full and easy access to the swollen sack of oversized oran berries he now sported at his crotch. Sage wanted to try and roll over, to crawl away, but a part of him accepted what was about to come- at least it would be over soon, right? That or maybe his badge would do its job and get him rescued, and maybe Chansey would be able to fix up his-

His train of thought was interrupted by a sudden soft glow emanating from Maeve's maw, a strange pink light that seemed to envelop it as she stared at him with intent focus. It took his brain, scrambled as his eggs were about to be, a moment or two to register just what she was doing. It must have been some sort of move, right? It couldn't be another Iron Tail, maybe it could be- oh, right. He had never watched her charge it up before, what with always walking in front, but he had seen just how devastating it could be when used to full effect. He was about to get neutered by her Play Rough, wasn't he?

“You really should've let me lead once in awhile." She grumbled, before spinning around to gain momentum and then sending her maw soaring with all the speed of a Rayquaza down between his legs. POPOP. His balls stood no chance, the force of the blow compressing them down to pancakes and then carrying through, a shockwave emanating from the stone floor, the pouch between them and her maw emptied in the blink of an eye. What was once solid if admittedly rather malleable nutflesh was now nothing but paste, his manhood obliterated beyond even the finest Nurse Chansey's healing ability. Sage offered his highest pitch squeal yet, before passing out from the shock- not before the pain had set it though. Maeve on the other hand quite enjoyed herself. She had opted of course not to use Iron Tail, because she wanted to really feel those irritating testes annihilated, wanted to feel them flatten and burst. And, well, she had.

Or, had she? Sure, she heard them pop- quite loudly in fact, louder than she had anticipated it being. And it certainly felt like her battering face of a maw had clubbed them beyond repair, and yet part of her was concerned that maybe a little bit of those pesky Meowscaraba marbles had survived. There was even a chance she had battered them up into him- that was something that could happen right? For someone who had spent the better part of her adventuring career staring at a guy's pair, she was awfully unfamiliar with the actual mechanics of how they worked (or how they ceased to work). Not wanting to leave the job unfinished, she pressed her foot down over that quivering sack of jelly, feeling around for anything solid and giving short little pumps of her legs, squashing his pouch against the cold floor. Sage twitched a few times, and a little mewl escaped him, but otherwise he remained blissfully out of it. With one final stomp to that fuzzy bag of jewels-turned-jelly, she felt confident her problem had been solved.

With Sage unconscious and sporting a sack full of slush, his badge began to ping faster. Maeve's was too- whatever enchantment was used on them no doubt assuming she was in trouble too if Sage was this injured. And yet, after a few minutes of waiting, idly poking the contents of his floppy sack with her toe, nobody had yet shown to collect them. Maeve considered this, considered Sage, and considered just how good it felt finally removing those eyesores from him, and… blushing, she found a way to pass the time before pick-up.

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“Aw man, check this out! A Gold Gummi!" Sage pumped his fist triumphantly and scooped up the little treasure, promptly depositing it in his side satchel. “Diglett wasn't lying, this place is loaded, haha! C'mon Maeve, let's see what else is here!" He merrily skipped down the mossy corridor, Maeve following dutifully behind. Things had been going quite well for them after her little outburst at Mt. Travail- Sage had a bit of a recovery time of course, and alas, Chansey could save nothing of his nuts after the pummeling Maeve had given them. Surprisingly, he held little ill will toward his partner, and before long the two had made up and were back on the road, this time handling some proper exploration befitting of their rank! Sage was a lot easier to keep on task, more focused on the mission, and Maeve no longer had to suffer through his flapping beanbag any more! What could be better?

Well, he still had something flopping around down there, getting in her way and tauntingly tapping and thwapping against his thighs… Maeve snicked the teeth of her false-face into a grin and hurried on after him. “Coming Sage!~"