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Sports
Club ball popping party A
ball fantasy The men in two underground sports clubs slime coloured,
popped and crushed balls on special occasions. The men were restless for
Kevin and Lionel, their Presidents, to organise an
event. They spent time in the gym strengthening their hands. Crushing balls
required extra strength. Kevin chose to give a
Birthday Party for Raymond, a novice to ball popping. Lionel agreed that his
club members would join in the festive celebrations. He stipulated that the
ball busting activities be rough and tough. His club would provide a barman
plus two men to colour balls. He assumed that
chosen members would crush Raymond’s balls as the
ultimate birthday present. The Sports Clubs shared a
playing field complete with a dressing shed, lockers, benches, tubs, soaps
and showers. Kevin had to negotiate with the manager Marco for cleaning up.
He had to be up-front about the sports activity. Marco knew the exact nature
of his proposal; he himself once belonged to a crushing ball fraternity. He
seized the opportunity to insist that his four mature age groundsmen
take part. Organisers of such events usually
overlooked them. In particular Mike wanted to lead a small group hammering
each other’s balls. The cost of the hammers was a legitimate
expense. Do the hammers come in different sizes? A standard size should crush
bull-sized balls. The playing field had a
sponsor Maurice who was happy to subsidise ball
busting sports. As a courtesy the Club Presidents should invite him to be a
spectator and/or a ball crusher. Maurice was elusive in attending official
events. Ball crushers would prize popping and crushing his big balls.
Nonetheless he could be tempted. For the moment he tasked Marco to collect
suitable cocks and balls for a chest necklace. Marco searched for a
suitable tray. He found a trophy Ball Cutter of the Year. The text started
off listing individuals. The last entry was for a ball club. It was no longer
in existence. The club President had not claimed the trophy. Perhaps a rival
club cut the balls of all the members. This was highly possible. Marco came up with the
bright idea that Maurice and he could inspect the event and judge a new
trophy Ball Crusher of the Year. Maurice agreed on condition that they could
just come and go without colouring their balls. Marco speculated that the
clubs shortly on site would need
blades for ball cutting. Kevin had overlooked mentioning this critical
detail. Fortunately Marco kept a spare box of fifty knives. The sportsmen could
share knives if they ran short. The four groundsmen Mike, Paul, William and Nick accepted the
delivery on site of the tins of slime colours—blue, green, yellow and black. Apparently the supplier was out of
stock of red, white and brown. Club members would mix the slime with water.
There were sixteen brushes the width of which made colouring
balls easy. Mike’s excursion had not been discussed further. He was pleased to receive
a carton of seven hammers. The unspoken message was go ahead. Ben,
a ball colorer. The Club Presidents chose
four of us to colour balls for the festive occasion
of a birthday party. Instructions included bull-sized and big balls apply
slime yellow for ready identification. We wrote numbers on the left arms.
These were equivalent to Lucky Door prizes. The task was exhausting but
arousing. We coloured over eighty ball sets
including the groundsmen. I looked forward to the
popping. Kevin,
Club President. I organised
two barmen to provide drinks for the toast to Raymond, the Birthday Boy.
Everybody sang “Happy Birthday” and “Hip, hip
Hoorah”. I encouraged cock milking as the Birthday Boy popped big balls. Raymond, Birthday Boy. I’m
privileged. This is my first time popping big balls. A hairy chested man pins
the target from behind. The balls are covered in slime yellow. My hands will
get a bit messy. No matter. Pause and think. The cock looks ready for
milking. Yep. I stroke the cock. It likes the touch of my hands. Some of the
bystanders heckle me. I see three strong men reaching cocks from behind and
milking. The sight arouses my cock. It’s time. I use both hands and apply
pressure slowly. I start squeezing harder and harder. My thick cock is now
aroused—hard as a rock. The big balls in my hands explode in the sac. POP! My
cock spurts and splashes over a nearby hairy chest. A man rubs the cum
throughout the black hairs. Who knows? My balls are covered in slime blue. I
expect they will be attacked before the party is over. Tony,
barman. A sponsor paid for the
drinks and maybe other items at the birthday party. Corey, the other barman,
and I are happy to provide endless drinks. Corey was miffed when his balls
missed out on yellow. Both our balls are slime green. The men relax their
guard and settle into party mood. They will be surprised when the Lucky Door
numbers are drawn. Lionel,
Lucky Prize drawer. As Presidents Kevin and I
reserved the right to increase the number of Lucky Door prizes. We decided on
ten numbers. The winners will choose opponents for a popping balls contest.
The twenty contestants form up in a circle. They will ball pop in a
free-for-all. The advantage of this: it’s
difficult to miss out. I call # 16, yellow, big
balls, Tim; #27, black, mystery size;
Roger; #3, Ben, blue; #10, yellow, that’s my #, Lionel; #35, yellow, bull-sized
balls, David; #21, black, Sam; #39, green. Wayne; #37, yellow, a groundsman, Paul; #24, green, Corey barman; #18, blue, Grant; It’s
inevitable that sooner or later I will pop balls and a Club member will
reciprocate. Nevertheless it’s a shock. At last… #18, blue, Grant. I’m
one of the Club members who enjoys mass milking. Twenty of us formed a circle
chain, right hand holding the cock on the right. The sight of the milking of
twenty cocks was heartening. I tell you. I was proud of my spurting cock. #21,
black, Sam. Guess what? Twenty of us
are going to pop each other’s balls. We hear the
pops. Nice sound. #39,
green, Wayne.The Presidents were generous. They allowed us to continue crushing the
balls which were just popped. I was surprised at how strenuous crushing balls
was. It was exciting crushing balls in a free-for-all. I was blessed. I
crushed three sets of balls. Bliss! #27,
black, Roger plus Peter, green; Hairy
chested Bruno enjoyed me popping his balls. The pain from Peter crushing his
balls was a different thing. He tried to reciprocate. I laughed when he tried
to grasp my balls. We had a well-deserved
reputation for popping and crushing balls. In this event we went out of our
way to find yellow, bull-sized balls. We guaranteed outstanding service. We
work as a team. When I pin from behind Peter ever so smoothly caresses the
balls before he pops them. Peter changes tactics to crush the balls. Now he’s the full alpha with no hesitation and no mercy. Big balls deserve
to be crushed. #0,
Maurice. Members from both clubs are
entering into the spirit of ball crushing. They are enjoying it. Peter,
green, is obviously the new Ball Crusher of the Year. I was surprised to see
the size of Marco’s balls. Perhaps in a future event
the Ball Crusher of the Year will crush his balls. #10,
yellow, Lionel. At
this point I collected and handed out knives just in case they were needed. I respected the popping/
crush balls duo of Roger and Peter. They represented both clubs. Capturing
them was a challenge for a posse. Their cocks and balls were too tempting to
escape manly attention. I assembled guards of honour to carry them overhead, a short walk around the
sports ground, then a stop. William, the third groundsman,
hands an unsheathed castration knife to Raymond. Raymond has the additional honour of cutting off the first set of balls for the day.
An erect cock is in the road stopping an easy cut. He drops his guard.
William alerts him to the danger and instructs him to cut off Roger’s cock as well. Peter sees this and tries to resist but his guards of
honour firmly milk the cock. William, beside
himself with excitement, cut’s off Peter’s balls. I cut off Peter’s cock and shove it into Roger’s mouth. William shoves Roger’s cock
into Peter’s mouth. The birthday boy is
certainly learning fast. #16,
yellow, Tim. Kevin, the President, made
prior arrangements for seven hammers to be delivered onsite. Mike, a groundsman, will personally hand six of us with big balls
smothered in yellow slime. You can guess what we are going to do with the
hammers. I’m a little apprehensive as well as excited. On a
previous event I watched hammers flatten balls before bursting them open.
Splat! An exciting sight! Kevin instructed us to reward Mike in the classic
fashion. Flatten his balls! Play it by ear! There was an unexpected
hitch—no sixth sportsman. Mike solved the problem. Two of
us grabbed a bystander with the obligatory slime yellow covered balls. There
was no time for name introductions. We handed the startled bystander a hammer
and moved him to the ball killing ground. Mike introduced the event. “Gather
closer. First feel the balls in your left hand. Some of them may already be
popped and crushed. Hold the hammer in your right hand. Adjust your grip.
Spread out. After the count of three I will command Hammer! Ready? One…two…three…Hammer!”
We instinctively broke up
into two versus one. I pinned the bystander from behind. He resisted. My
colleague grasped his balls. He had to hammer a few times before the balls
flattened. The other two lowered their
target onto the ground. They got carried away. The hammer strokes pulped the
balls which broke open. The mush spilt onto the ground. An unidentified hammerer
attacked an exposed cock and balls. He miscalculated. Both hammerers grasped
each other’s crushed balls. The hold was awkward but firm. The
hammers flattened the balls squishing the mush over their hands. Mike joined us for a
threesome. I was reconciled to the hammering of my balls but I still wanted
to hammer any available balls if possible. Mike surprised me by wanting us to
calm down. The three of us looked down as we grasped the balls on our left.
We adjusted the grip on our hammers. We looked at our balls for the last
time. Mike shouted “Hammer!” The
three of us shouted “My balls!” #37,
yellow, a groundsman, Paul. I persuaded Kevin to try
ball cutting in a spread eagling position. Six members pin the target on the
ground. Two pin the legs, two pin the arms. I unsheathe and hand a blade to
the member who’s going to cut the exposed balls
off. He smiles as he fully grasps the balls in one hand, adjusts the position
of the blade. The spreadeaglers shout “Cut!” I
salivate as William, the successful ball cutter, raises them up for all to
see. William was very brave,
almost stoic, as his balls waited for the
cut. I wondered whether Marco wanted to shaft us groundsmen.
Sooner or later he would get his comeuppance. I was glad that William and I
would bond for our balls’ cutting. I asked whether William and I could cut
each other’s balls off in consideration of our work buddy employment. The
request was unusual as buddies usually fucked one another. No. A younger man
had taken a fancy to cutting my big balls. I shouldn’t think this but I
enjoyed seeing William’s splendid balls cut off. This little group specialises in ball cutting. In truth we switch
positions. No one escapes. Somehow I kept my balls until now. Every one cuts
off a set of balls. What do we feel? Satisfied, you bet, as we swap balls. #3,
blue, Ben. My task is to wash the
slime colours off the balls. I have soap, sponges
and tubs of warm water. It’s nice to see the
popped and crushed balls. Members want proof that the
two Presidents joined in the celebrations. I wash the yellow slime off to
reveal crushed balls. They stroke them but this time they grasp my balls. I
feel flattered but accept the pain of the second ball crushing. Wait! My colleague finds
balls which are neither popped nor crushed—Nick,
a groundsman, Tony, the barman and Raymond. He
consults Lionel who smiles, points out him, me and one other. “Go
ahead. Have a contest to see whose balls pop last. Line them up so everybody
can see. Hold the balls. I will call on..two..three
and then command Pop. Silence. Listen for the pops. Then crush the balls.
Ready?” We slowly apply pressure.
Then, the command. Tony’s balls pop first, Nick’s
balls pop second and Raymond’s balls last. We agreed. The most rewarding part
was crushing the popped balls. Lucky Raymond got a well-deserved birthday
present. #35,
yellow, David. I
take the initiative with colleagues. After the ball crushing we cut the three
cocks off, switch them and shove them into mouths. I suspect that all three
were regular cocksuckers. Look at the way they swallow. Kevin and Lionel have
achieved their real aim to pop and crush nearly every set of balls on the
sports field. |
