Aftermath

Billy had finally collapsed on the floor, his body now slumped against the edge of the metallic bench. He was panting heavily, his chest heaving with each breath.

Daisy was still uncertain about how to react. It had happened all too quickly. She had begun their 'foreplay' with a punch, or rather a flick to Billy's jaw with her fragile fist.

And he had just...dropped, like a sack of potatoes.

Billy, after flailing like a street drunkard, had flopped down on his knees and was making a vehement effort to stay upright by taking support from the bench. Such a sight was downright disgraceful.

Daisy couldn't help but think whether Billy was having a seizure or something similar. What the hell went wrong with him?

Of course, a punch so feeble could never be the reason for his current state, Daisy thought. The very idea was far-fetched, to begin with.

Partly worried about Billy's condition and partly curious, Daisy decided to help him. After all, now the likelihood of having any 'fun' was slim.

She trudged towards Billy with heavy steps, taking her time as if doing so would miraculously make Billy get up all by himself. He was virtually semi-conscious, his arms resting on the seat of the bench. He had been clutching the two ends of the metallic seat with his clawed fingers to stay upright.

Daisy halted just between Billy's spread legs. She looked down at her fallen hero, his muscular chest covered with a sheen of sweat, his bulging cock more prominent than ever.

She bit her lip, her knickers now drenched with her juice. A million dirty thoughts were running in Daisy's mind. Billy's **** body looked all the more sexy, especially the way his legs were all open.

The temptation to strip him off his shorts and gobble down his meat flickered in her mind, though only for a moment.

Finally overcoming her urge, Daisy squatted down on her haunches. Her sharp knees, which, surprisingly, contrasted her chubby legs, were now pointing towards Billy's chest. He could only muster a faint gasp when he noticed her razor-edged knees dangerously close to his family jewels. His silent cry sadly went unnoticed.

"Bi...Billy...are you...ok?"

Billy zoned out, his dead eyes now fixed on a nearby shower stall.

Daisy couldn't help but frown. Without giving any thought, she snapped her fingers directly in front of his face, but to no avail.

Daisy huffed, perplexed by the whole situation. Had Billy been ill the entire time? She felt helpless as her gaze wandered around the room, **** to find anything to help Billy.

Suddenly, her eyes fell on the tennis shoes she had been wearing, and an idea sprung in her head.

She had read this on the internet once, something about strong smells and their effect on patients suffering from seizures. And the most potent odour she could think of was...

...her smelly gym socks.

She hated what she was about to do but couldn't think of anything better. Scrunching her nose with disgust, she began pulling her shoelace.

As her sneaker loosened, Daisy felt a cool sensation on her sole. She shifted her weight to the other leg and slipped her foot out of the shoe.

A strong pungent smell wafted through the air, now that her foot was free from the sticky enclosure. The odour even made Daisy feel nauseous.

Carefully stripping off her sogged sock, she brought the once-white piece of cloth under Billy's nose.

Daisy made sure to keep the greyed-out sock at an arm's length from herself, as the stench was horrible. Even the way she held the sock, pinched between her thumb and finger, was indicative of its repulsiveness.

Moments passed, but nothing happened. Tired, Daisy, with no hesitation, rubbed the sock on Billy's face.

Billy's nostrils flared as he took in the sweaty odour. His head jerked back as his mush brain finally registered the vinegary scent.

His sudden reaction made Daisy leap forward to stop Billy's head from banging against the metallic seat. She sighed with relief as she successfully cushioned the impact with her palm...

...and spectacularly failed to realize where her knees had landed.

To say Billy's face had contorted beyond recognition was an understatement. Moreover, his mouth had hung open in abject pain but remained concealed under Daisy's sock, which she had left on his face in a hurry.

It was after a good few moments Daisy felt something squishy under her bent knee. Before she could gaze down to check, it dawned on her what she had done.

Terrified, she sprung back like a flash of lightning, already cursing herself for her stupidity.

"Oh my god!...Billy!...", Daisy shrieked and began rubbing his damaged groin.

The only response Billy could muster was a pathetic wail, which was muffled by Daisy's sock.

"...I'm so sorry...I didn't mean to...do this...", teary-eyed, she brushed the sock aside.

The pain Billy had felt moments ago was soul-crushing. The instant Daisy's knee had made contact with his scrotum, he felt as if a white-hot knife had pierced through his abdomen. The all-consuming pain had almost made him pass out.

The fact that he hadn't thrown up was a miracle in itself.

After a few minutes, Billy woke up, ever so slowly, from his trance-like state. His vision was blurry, but could still discern Daisy kneeling in front of him.

Daisy bent forward, coming closer to his face. Her hand was still busy caressing his tent.

"Billy...are you...alright?...", her voice was more than a whisper.

As soon as she spoke, Billy sensed the intense smell of her breath colliding on his face. His nostrils flared up as he whiffed in her scent.

Contrary to what one would 'feel' a silver-blonde beauty's breath should smell like, the air coming out of Daisy's parted lips was rather acidic.

And it was having a profound effect on Billy's painfully erect dick.

Being so close to someone's most private scent was borderline taboo, and a half-dazed Billy was cherishing every second of it. Such a moment in itself could be more impressionable than mere love-making...

...impressionable enough to become a fetish.

While Billy was enjoying the feast which was Daisy's gamy scent, a larger, more dreadful thought was looming in his damaged head.

The fact that he got downed in a single hit, from a cheerleader way smaller than him, was a matter of concern.

Moreover, she hadn't been wearing a glove, which made the whole situation worse. It could only imply that Billy had sustained such a severe injury on his chin, that it required immediate medical attention.

As soon as the realisation hit him, all of his sexual urges vanished in thin air. He had to get away from this buxom bitch, who had unwittingly smeared shit all over his bright future.

Billy's fuzzy vision was now clear. Daisy felt relieved when she noticed his incessant blinking, which only meant he was somewhat conscious and ready to talk.

She pulled her hand back from his crotch albeit unwillingly. The feeling of his swollen mushroom head just beneath her fingers was titillating, but first, she needed answers.

"Billy...what happened?...were you...", she held her breath before speaking those fateful words.

"...knocked out?"

The question hit Billy like a ton of bricks. Daisy raised her brow as she noticed a twitch in Billy's shorts, but chose to ignore.

This was getting out of hand. Just like the innumerable times he had done before, Billy had to spin some narrative again.

"W...what do you m...mean by that?...", Billy tried desperately to make his voice sound deep and was almost successful.

"...I...I mean...", Daisy sighed, "...when I punched you...and mind you...it was just a flick...you just..."

Billy could feel his face getting red.

"...you just dropped down...as if you were hit by a truck...and I thought it was all an act...", Daisy turned her head away, avoiding Billy's gaze.

"...but you were out cold...and...I had to...", she gulped, embarrassed about what she was about to say, "...make you sniff my..."

Daisy pointed a finger towards her sock, lying beside Billy on the floor.

Although he did turn his head to look where she asked, his mind was reeling with shock. Billy couldn't let this bitch tell the whole world how she brought a legend to his knees.

He had to find a way to get out of this mess.