This story in not completely fictional. Nor is it the truth and nothing but the truth. The names have definitely been changed to protect the guilty. We are all disease free and stay that way by protecting ourselves whenever we play with anyone but each other. Descriptions of unprotected sex are fictional because I'm imaginative and not stupid.
You know the rules... Don't read this if you're a minor or are offended by gay or BDSM expression. Don't even think about reproducing or publishing it without my permission. Remember, I have sadistic friends who like to punish people! <>
The Pool Table and My Balls
I was the last to arrive at my friend's house, which surprised me because I wasn't late, which meant they were all early. That was surprising. I did my usual quick knock and walked right in.
"Hey. Whasssup?" I greeted them as I entered. "You're all early!" I said in a teasing tone.
"Hey, Man. We were just talking and we don't want to go shoot pool tonight." Steven spoke up.
"Oh come on! Why not?" I asked. I love to shoot pool! I went through college on a pool playing scholarship, believe it or not. It's my sport, my thing. I rule when it comes to shooting pool.
"It's too fucking boring to play with you." Steven continued being the mouth for the four of them.
"What do you mean? I'm the best man!" I replied in good humor.
"That's just it. You never miss and we end up watching you play. Then you lord it over us like some snotty and cocky little kid. It gets old really quick." He said. The others just kind of stared and nodded to show they all agreed. My heart sank.
"Okay, I'm sorry. I won't pull that shit anymore. Please can we go, please? I promise I'll be cool tonight. C'mon guys. I love shooting pool." I gave them my best smile and all my charm and beg in a way I've learned works with Steven. The rest will always follow the two of us. He gives in and we go to the local bar, which has a couple of pool tables. We snag one to play.
There's a guy standing at the bar who catches my attention. He makes it pretty obvious that I've caught his as well. He doesn't take his eyes off of me as we begin to play.
We bank off the cushion to see who will go first and I take it. I break perfectly landing two balls and finish the table in rapid succession. It's two rounds before I miss one and the guys are already bored and pissed. I razz them a bit trying to break the mood. It doesn't work. "Oh come on stop being a bunch of wusses! Steven you fucking rule on the tennis court but I still play every week, and Jimmy, you kill me in racquetball but I still play. This is my sport."
Jimmy's pissed. "Yeah but you still get to play when we're winning and we just sit here bored to death watching you shoot." He takes his shot and misses. "Fuck it." He says handing the stick to Cliff who also misses. Steven gets in two before missing, he hands it back to me, and I land 18 straight balls.
"This isn't fun." Steven replies when I turn around. "We don't want to play anymore."
"Fine." I reply really annoyed.
"I'll play you." The guy from the bar who was watching me says.
"You're on!" I'm excited at the chance to keep playing.
"But, " he goes on; "we have to make it interesting for everyone."
"What do you mean?"
"A side wager." He has a cocky grin on his face.
I'm not intimidated. I've won plenty of money shooting pool. "Ten bucks? A dollar a ball? You name it."
"Nope. I have no interest in money and that wouldn't be interesting to anyone else." He had everyone's attention now.
"What are you talking about then?" I was totally confused.
"I want to kick you in the balls." He didn't say anything else.
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
"It's simple. I win, I kick you in the balls." His stare was intense. My friends were cheering him on.
"Come on man, you can't be serious." My hand went instinctively over my balls as if to protect them.
"I'm serious. I want to kick you in the balls." His voice was low and steady.
"Why?" I asked dumbfounded and trying to figure this out.
"Because you deserve it and I want to do it." His stare never wavered. My friends listened and watched intently.
"What's in it for me? What if I win? What do I get? I'm not interested in kicking you in the balls so it's not a fair bet." I tried to get out of it and save face.
"I want to kick you in the balls." FUCK! He just kept saying that! Both of my hands were hovering over my balls partly to protect them and partly because I was embarrassed as hell to be popping a boner. "What do you want if you win? Name it. You can have anything you want because you won't win." This guy was really pissing me off.
"If I win you blow me right here in front of everyone." I figured he'd never take the bet.
Without flinching he said, "You're on." My friends and half the bar went wild. "If I win I kick you in the balls three times."
Fuck! "You never said three times. The bet was for once." My heart was pounding.
"I never said how many times. I'd have been satisfied with one until you got hard thinking about it. Now I want three."
My face turned bright red knowing that everyone now knew I'd popped a boner at the thought of this guy kicking me in the balls. I don't know why it happened and I didn't have time to think about it. Everyone started cheering. What was I supposed to do? I accepted the stupid bet. I'd never lost yet so I was pretty confident.
"Whoever takes the bank wins the break and calls the game." I suggested trying to give myself the edge. I never lose the bank shot. He nods in agreement and I take my shot. It lands less than tow inches from the cushion. My smile matches my confidence. He takes his shot and it bounces off the far cushion and slowly and steadily rolls back to kiss the cushion and stops. A fucking perfect shot! Shit! Shit! Shit!
"Eight ball." He calls the game, as he breaks smooth and perfect, landing two solid balls. My stomach knots and my heart races as my chances of winning are sinking very fast. He sweeps the table flawlessly, calls the eight ball, and makes it easy. He gently lays his stick on the table and in the same calm and steady voice he commands me, "Spread your fucking legs and put your hands behind your head."
Fuck! This can't be happening. My mind is racing as fast as my heart is pounding. I look to my friends for support. Steven says, "You made the bet, now pay up." Shit! My other friends snicker at my predicament but offer no support.
"C'mon man. Can we do something else?" I still can't believe he'd actually do it.
"Spread your fucking legs and put your hands behind your head." He repeats it again indicating that he's not giving in.
What am I supposed to do? If I back out I'll never be able to show my face again. Even if I did no one would ever play or make a bet with me again. I'm screwed either way. I take a deep breath, spread my legs, and put my hands behind my head as I was told, and brace myself for what's coming.
"On the count of three," he tells everyone including me. "One." He stares directly into my eyes and I refuse to break eye contact. "Two." I can't help but look down at my balls for a second before regaining my focus. "Three, and by the way you dick is hard." It barely has time to sink in as his foot crashes into my balls sending a shockwave of pain and dropping me to my knees. I grab my balls and curl up trying to breathe and let the pain and cramping pass. Everyone watches and I hear lots of talking but no one gets up to help me in any way. Not even my friends. The guy is standing there calm and cool drinking his beer and looking down on me.
"Tell me when you're ready." He says to me.
"Oh fuck man! C'mon. You can't be serious! That fucking hurt like hell! You can't do that again." I really think I can reason with him.
"I can and I will. Tell me when you're ready." He takes another swig of his beer still watching me. I'm desperate. I look at my friends for help. "C'mon guys. Don't let him do this."
"You made the fucking bet, you gotta pay." Steven holds firm and takes a drink of his beer. None of the others will go against him.
I get up on my knees torn between wanting to put it off and wanting to get it over with. It hurt like hell but it's amazing how fast the pain passes. The guy never took his eyes off of me. I tell him I'm ready as I start to get up.
"Don't get up. Kneel there and spread your legs. Put you hands behind your back this time." This is even more fucking humiliating. He goes through the routine of counting again. "One." I'm having a hard time holding still. "Two." My legs start shaking. "You're dick is still hard." I look down to see how much it's showing through my jeans and he says three and lands another kick directly to my balls! Oh Fuck! Is my only thought as I drop into a fetal position clutching my balls and rocking back and forth. It hurts so fucking bad!!
"Tell me when you're ready."
This guy is a fucking maniac if he thinks I'll let him do it again. He's a fucking nut! "No way! I'm not doing it again. No fucking way!" I tell him with all the authority I can manage when I'm rolling on the floor holding and rubbing my balls in a bar full of men who just watched and cheered as I spread my legs to let this dude kick me right in my balls.
"Tell me when you're ready." He repeats again. "If I have to make them hold you I'll kick your balls so fucking hard they'll come out your throat." I can tell it's not an empty threat.
Steven pipes in, "Don't embarrass yourself more. We'll help him if we have to. Now, get up and take it like a man." Fuck! Even he's getting on me. He has no fucking idea how much it hurts.
I pull myself back up onto my knees. It was better kneeling even though it was much more embarrassing. I didn't have as far to fall to the ground and it was easier to absorb some of the blow with the rest of my body. He stands in front of me and I can't make eye contact this time. I look down at the ground.
"If you don't want me to kick you then kneel down and kiss my boots." Fuck! That's totally humiliating and I have a hard time deciding which is worse, the pain in my balls or the humiliation of kissing his boots. Fuck it, it hurt too bad. I bend over and kiss his boots until he tells me to stop and then get back onto my knees. "Why is your dick hard?" I'm so fucking embarrassed and I don't know why it's still hard. What the fuck am I supposed to say? "He puts his foot against my balls and says, "It's a real question and I want an answer, why is your dick still hard?"
"I don't know." I'm totally humiliated.
"You're on your fucking knees before me. I've already kicked you in the balls twice. You've kissed my feet. I think you'd better call me Sir. Now, why is your dick still hard?"
Damn him! This is so much worse than I thought it would be. I so fucking sorry I ever made that stupid bet! Why is my dick so fucking hard? I can feel it pulsing in my pants and pressing against my jeans. I know they can all see it. I usually so proud of my bulging basket but now it's humiliating to me.
"I don't know why it's hard, Sir." The Sir sticks in my throat as I say it.
"Well, your legs are still spread and you never got up, so I think it's because deep down inside you know you deserve it. On the count of three."
"Oh please no! I kissed your feet! Please don't do this!" I all out begged.
"One." Oh fuck! The panic was rising in my throat. "Two." A soft sob escaped my lips. If he said three I never heard it as his foot connected with my balls again knocking me to the ground. I squirmed and writhed in pain panting for breath and moaning out loud. He stood right in front of me and watched. "Kiss my boots again." Without even thinking about it, I did it. I leaned over and kissed both his boots. "Now get on your knees and say thank you and it's all over." I got up on my knees and thanked him. He made no positive gesture or any effort to comfort me.
"I'll be here this Saturday at 9:00. I'll see you then, if you've got the balls." Everyone laughed and he nodded to my friends and walked out of the bar.
It took me a while to get back up and walk over to my friends. They didn't say anything to me. They gathered up their change and walked out with me following them. They didn't say anything in the car on the way back. It was really awkward for me and I felt like shit. When we got back to his house I said I was leaving and started heading toward my car.
"Get your fucking ass in here, now." Steven ordered me. I followed them into the house where they all found seats. I just stood by the door. I couldn't make eye contact with any of them. "What the fuck was that?" Steven asked me.
I tried to explain that I never thought I'd lose. I made the bet thinking I'd win.
"You were hard the whole fucking time, I could see it through your pants. What was that about?"
"He was really good looking and hot as hell." I tried to defend myself. "I noticed him as soon as I walked in."
"But you didn't get hard until he said he wanted to kick you in the balls. I was watching you. You started rubbing yourself and got an instant wood." He persisted and the others just kept agreeing with him, as always.
"It was just a reflex. I was protecting myself!"
"Bull fucking shit! You were turned on from the second it started until it ended! You never tried to get up after you kissed his feet. He gave you an out and you didn't take it! Then you kissed his feet and thanked him after the bet ended. You fucking did that! You didn't have to."
I just hung my head in humiliation and defeat. "I wasn'thinking." Was my only defense.
"No you weren't thinking with your head, just your dick! You liked it!" I said nothing.
"I liked it!" Cliff chimed in. It was so fucking hot watching him get kicked in the balls like that. I had a hard on the whole time too." John and Jimmy agreed that it was hot watching me get kicked in the balls. They said they were hard also. I couldn't believe they got off on it like that.
Steven stood up and walked toward me. "It was fucking hot! Spread your fucking legs. It wasn't enough for me to watch. I want to be the one to kick you in the balls." The silence hung there. I didn't move. The others gathered close around. I just stood there as my cock pushed against my pants quickly getting hard. I watched Steven's eyes drop to my crotch and a smile spread across his face. No one said anything. I spread my legs and put my hands behind my head. I heard Cliff whisper, "Fuck yeah" as I felt Steven's foot connect with my aching balls. I didn't drop down. I leaned against the door. I kept my legs spread and my hands clasped behind me as I tried to control and manage the pain. The second kick landed before the first one stopped hurting. Again I held my place. The silence was deafening and the moment intense. The third kick dropped me to my knees. I slid down the door and crumpled at their feet. I struggled to catch my breath and regain my composure. I made no effort to protect my balls. I looked up at him with my legs spread and said, "Thank you, Sir." He brought his foot up to my lips and let me kiss them.