The Balls of Others: Episode 2

Warning: Can contain traces of cum
Big thanks to bbmal whose ideas made this story a lot more fun than it originally was...
I walked into the TV studio, cheerfully whistling the theme tune of our show, a light, upbeat rock tune.

Yesterday, we had held our final rehearsals, and everything had gone according to plan. As usual, Claas, my loyal Dutch assistant, had acted as a stand-in for all the games, suffering incredible abuse from our stagehands, and I was sure that his plan to make a baby with his wife had been postponed once again... Sure, there was the odd nut that hadn’t been crunched as thoroughly as we had wished, but all in all I was very optimistic that the second episode of our show was going to be great.

We had made a few changes, mostly because of the intervention of Nikolai, the head of the TV station. Now, we had two teams competing against each other, each one consisting of two guys willing to bare their balls and have their nuts cracked in order to win 10.000 Euro. We devised three exciting challenges and reworked the rules of the game.

I took a left turn and walked into the kitchen to get myself a cup of coffee.

While waiting at the coffee machine, I noticed a couple of stagehands standing around, talking and laughing. All of our stagehand had been carefully chosen: They were in their late teens or early twenties, with fit bodies and handsome features.

Among them was Erik, a cute, blond guy who I had gotten to know more personally a few weeks ago in Nikolai’s office, where the poor bloke’s nuts had been crunched and drained by our boss.

“Well, they asked me to be a contestant”, I heard Erik say. “But I didn’t want to. You know, my balls are pretty big, and I don’t want to intimidate the other candidates…”

I chuckled. Apparently Erik’s ego hadn’t suffered as badly as his nuts. And I almost admired the scale of his self-delusion.

“And I really enjoy doing what I do”, Erik continued. He grinned at his buddies. “I’m gonna do round 3!” He paused, waiting for his friends’ reaction.

“No way!”

“Congratulations!”

“That’s fantastic!”

Erik smiled, cracking his knuckles. “I’ll tell you a secret.” His friends stared at him in silence.
“Maybe I’m gonna get my own show.”

“Wow!”

“Yeah”, Erik said, smiling smugly. “I haven’t thought of a title, yet. Maybe ‘Bashing Balls with Erik’ or ‘Erik’s Guide to Crunching Nuts’. Or we’ll go with something simple like ‘The Erik Show’.”

I chuckled. That boy had one hell of a lively imagination. Sure, he was good looking – but the plans for his own show existed only in his mind. Grinning, I grabbed my coffee and walked by the stagehands.

Passing them, I noticed Erik looking at me. He quickly lowered his gaze, blushing.

“Hey guys”, I said, stopping next to Erik.

The stagehands greeted me. They were already dressed in their uniforms: black shirts and black trousers, very tight-fitting to highlight their bodies.

“How are you, Erik”, I smiled.

“Fine, thanks”, Erik mumbled.

“Remind me to set a date to talk about your show”, I said casually.

Erik’s face turned deep purple.

“I’ve been thinking about the concept. Maybe we should change it just a little bit”, I said.

Erik mumbled something inaudible.

“And the title… ‘Bashing Balls with Erik’ is okay – but I think ‘Bashing Erik’s Balls’ would be even better.” With that, I let my hand swing down, landing right on target. I felt my knuckles make contact with the soft mound between Erik’s thighs.

Erik let out a groan.

His buddies started laughing.

“See you, Erik”, I said and walked away.

“Man, he really got you”, I heard one of the stagehands giggle while Erik was moaning in pain.

I smiled and walked into the control room where my assistant was sitting in his chair.

“Hi, Claas”, I said, sitting down next to him.

“Hey, Alex”, he said in a strained voice.

I looked at him and smiled.

His jeans were lying on the ground next to him and he was wearing boxers. His legs were spread wide apart and he had a packet of ice resting on his crotch.

“Last night was tough, huh?” I said, switching on my computer.

“Why is it always me who has to stand in for the rehearsal?” Claas said in a whiny voice.

I shrugged. “It’s your job.”

He groaned and adjusted his crotch. “Seriously, I’m never gonna have kids if we go on like this.”

As much as I liked Claas, sometimes he had a problem focusing on what was important. “Is everything ready?” I asked.

Claas coughed. “Yeah, no problems. If you want to say hello to the contestants, they are in their changing rooms.”

I nodded and stood. “I’ll be back in ten.”

“Hey”, Claas said, reaching into his drawer. “You could give them their costumes…” He grinned, handing me two pairs of boxer briefs. One was blue, the other one was red. Both of them had our show’s logo on the back, and the writing “These balls are safe” on the front.

I grabbed them, left the room and looked at my watch. The show was about to start in 30 minutes.

The contestants’ rooms were right across the hall, with the Italian team on the left and the Swedish team on the right.

The door to the Swedish team’s room was open and I walked right in.

There was a large mirror on one side of the room and the two contestants were standing in front of it, side by side, stark naked. They were both tall and athletic, with pasty-white skin and blond hair.

Lars was 21 years old and the taller one of the duo. He had a very well defined body with a nice six-pack and not a single ounce of fat on his entire frame. His hair was cut short, and he had a strong jawline and blue eyes.

His buddy Jonas was one year younger. His body was just as perfect as Lars’. His hair was straight and a shade lighter, and he had used a fair amount of gel to make his hairstyle look random and shaggy.

“Hey”, I smiled. “How are you?”

They turned around, smiling.

“Hi, Alex”, Jonas said.

I couldn’t help but stare at their crotches. They had both trimmed their pubes, with Lars going almost completely bare and Jonas leaving his pubic hair a little longer. Their nuts were hanging low in their sacs, with Jonas’ balls looking a slight bit heavier. Lars had a slight advantage in the dick department, but both of them had nice, thick, long cocks, that looked enormous even though they were both soft and limp.

I thought of Nikolai’s motto: “The bigger the better”, the head of the TV station had told me. “Small balls don’t make for good television.” Well, I knew he’d be pleased. These two Nordic gods would look great on TV…

I cleared my throat and looked up at the guys’ faces. “You look fantastic”, I said.

Jonas grinned. “I know.”

“Have you met your opponents, yet?” I asked.

Lars nodded. “They are nice.”

“But they don’t stand a chance”, Jonas quickly added, grabbing his balls and affectionately rolling them in his hand.

“Yeah, Jonas’ nuts are top-notch”, Lars grinned. “As soon as we got your note we started with our training sessions.”

Jonas chuckled and grimaced. “It was hard work, but now they are ready…”

I smiled. “Okay, good luck then…”

“Thanks”, they both said and turned to watch themselves in the mirror again.

“Oh, before I forget”, I said, handing Lars the blue boxer briefs. “Put these on.”

Lars looked at them and chuckled.

Jonas raised his eyebrows. “I thought we’d both be naked.”

I shook my head. “There’s no need for Lars to be naked. It’s your balls that are on the line today.”

Jonas grinned sheepishly and nodded. “I see…”

I left the room and knocked on the door of the Italian team’s room.

“Come in!”

I walked in. Just like the Swedes, the two Italian studs were stark naked. They were notably shorter than their Swedish counterparts, but their bodies were equally fit and trained.

They were sitting in their chairs, each of them munching on a slice of pizza.

“Isn’t that a bit cliché?” I laughed.

They stared at me.

“Huh?” Fabio raised his eyebrows. He was 20 years old, with thick, curly black hair and dark, sparkling eyes. He wiped his hand on his naked thigh and ran it through his hair.

“The pizza”, I said.

“What about it?” Antonio asked. At 19, he was the youngest of the contestants. His hair was a very dark shade of brown and he obviously didn’t care much about hair styling. It was plain and short, sticking up at the back of his head as if he had just woken up.

“Never mind”, I said. “How are you?”

“Ready to go”, Fabio said. He finished his pizza, stood up and wiped his hands on his ass. As he turned to me, I saw his big, soft cock and the two fat, dangling testicles that went with it. He had a big bush of untrimmed pubic hair, but his balls were hairless, obviously shaven.

He noticed my glance and chuckled. “I shaved my nuts”, he grinned. “I don’t know what they’ll have to endure – and I don’t want any hair to get caught in some wicked machine…”

I chuckled. “You’re well-prepared…”

“Sure”, Antonio said, standing up. “We’re gonna win the money. And these suckers…” He reached for his buddy’s big, fat balls. “…are our ticket to 10.000 Euro.” He gave them a playful squeeze, causing Fabio to wince.

I chuckled. “So you’ve decided that Fabio is going to put his nuts on the line.”

Antonio nodded. “It was a close race”, he said. He sported a thick, uncut cock and two heavy, ripe plums that looked like they might be even bigger than Fabio’s. “We took turns crunching each other’s nuts.”

Fabio grinned. “And I won.” He balled his fist and smashed it into his friend’s unsuspecting nuggets.

Antonio groaned in pain and doubled over.

“My nuts are a lot tougher than his”, he said, shrugging.

“Bastardo”, Antonio grunted.

Fabio laughed. When Antonio made a swing for his nuts, he moved his hips, causing his cock to slap against his thigh. “Hey, watch it! Those nuts will get their share of pain! No need to weaken them before we go on the air!”

“Fuck, you are right”, Antonio grumbled.

“Here”, I said, throwing the red pair of boxer briefs in Antonio’s direction.

“Thanks”, Antonio whispered as he caught them.

“Alright, guys, see you later”, I said. “Good luck!”

“Grazie”, Fabio replied. “I don’t think we need it though…”

I shrugged and left the room. Cocky bastard.

When I was back in the control room, I heard the announcement on the PA: “Going live in 3 minutes. Everybody on stage.”

On the screen, I saw our French director give some final instructions to the crew.

When the four contestants entered the studio, the audience went wild with cheers and applause.

Fabio and Antonio laughed, goofing around, flexing their muscles. Fabio winked at a girl in the audience and bent over to let his buddy Antonio slap his ass. On his right ass cheek, he sported the Italian flag.

The girl cheered and clapped.

The Swedish team was more restrained, smiling politely and waving at the audience. Then Lars and Jonas walked up to their marks on the stage and waited for the show to begin.

One minute before the show was about to start, one of the stagehands ushered Fabio and Antonio to their marks.

The Swedish team was standing behind a transparent counter stage-left, and the Italian team had a similar counter stage-right. Between them, there was a large space that was marked with a large fluorescent red circle on the floor. There, the challenges were going to take place.

“Attention”, the director announced. “We’re going live in 5, 4, …”

The theme music started and I watched on the screen as the opening titles ran.

Again, we went with a quick montage of our crew members’ testicles and a few shots of Claas’ balls getting crunched from the rehearsal.

“10.000 Euro”, a sonorous voice said. “Two teams.”

The picture cut to Lars and Jonas, smiling brightly and waving at the camera. Then, it cut to Fabio and Antonio, both of them laughing. Fabio was holding his nuts and wiggling them at the camera.

“4 balls.”

The camera zoomed in on Jonas beefy nuts before fading to Fabio’s big set of jewels.

“It’s… The Balls of Others!”

The audience went wild, clapping and cheering for the four contestants.

“These are the rules: One member of each team will get his nuts cracked. The other one calls the shots. He has to determine how much pain his buddy can take. The other team has to beat the score to win the round. Three rounds. One team wins and takes home… 10.000 Euro!”

The lights in the studio went wild, coating the athletic bodies of the four contestants with a flood of colors.

“And here are our contestants: From Sweden, Lars and Jonas. They are best buddies and share everything – even their girlfriends, from time to time... “

The audience cheered and Lars and Jonas grinned and high-fived.

“Jonas’ testicles are on the line tonight. Are you ready to get your nuts crunched, Jonas?”

The blond boy raised his hands into the air and wiggled his hips, causing his long cock to slap from side to side while his big, dangling balls swung wildly between his thighs. “Yeah!” he shouted.

“And from Italy, Antonio and Fabio. They went to school together and started Italy’s National Nutball Championship.”

Again, the audience went wild, while the two Italians hugged, their crotches bouncing against each other.

“Fabio will provide the nuts for the Italian team tonight. Ready to get your balls busted, Fabio?”

“Bring it on!” the curly-haired Italian screamed. “Come on, bring it on!”

“Let’s get the show on the road!” the voice announced.

Dramatic music started playing as two handsome stagehands wheeled in a futuristic contraption made of transparent plastic. It consisted of a pillar (adjustable for height) with a small platform and a plate with a long pole on top of it. The pole was about 30 cm long, pointing upwards. At the foot of the pillar sat ten donut-shaped weights in various colors.

The contestants stared at the contraption.

Jonas whispered something into Lars’ ear. His buddy just shrugged and raised his eyebrows.

“Round 1: They weight tower”, the voice said. “Let’s have a quick demonstration how it works.”
The two stagehands each produced a blue rubber ball, smiling at the camera. They placed the balls side by side on the platform and flipped a switch, causing the plate to sink down until it touched the balls without flattening them.

Acting like a magician’s assistant, one of the stagehands reached down and grabbed one of the donut-shaped weights. He held it up and showed it to the audience, smiling brightly.

“Each weight is 1.5 kilos”, the voice explained.

The stagehand winked at the camera and positioned the weight on top of the pole. Then he let go and the weight dropped down onto the plate with a loud CLANK. The plate lowered, the balls flattened before regaining almost their original shape.

The stagehand added another weight, then another and another, causing the blue balls to flatten considerably. Finally, all but one weight was resting on the plate. The blue balls were considerably flattened between the platform and the plate.

The stagehand grinned and took the last weight. When he dropped the weight on top of the others, there was a double POP as the two balls burst and the plate sank completely down onto the platform.

The second stagehand made an exaggerated grimace, holding his hands to his cheeks and shaping his mouth to an O, raising his eyebrows.

The audience laughed along with the contestants.

“Now, boys – your turn.”

Jonas and Fabio laughed nervously as they fondled their babymakers.

“We’ll flip a coin to determine who begins”, the voice continued.

“Heads”, Lars said.

“Okay, tails”, Antonio shrugged.

One of the stagehands tossed a coin in the air and it came down, showing heads.

Lars bit his lower lip and nodded. “Alright.”

“Lars”, the voice said. “You set the bar. How many weights will Jonas be able to take? In round 1, points are awarded as follows: If one team succeeds and the other one doesn’t, the winning team will get 2 points. If both teams succeed, each team will get 1 point. If both teams fail, no points will be awarded.”

Lars nodded slowly as Jonas whispered something into his ear.

The voice continued, “Choose carefully: You want to make sure not to ask too much of Jonas. But if you go too low, maybe Team Italy will match your effort...”

Fabio and Antonio looked at the Swedish team expectantly.

“We have to go higher”, Lars whispered to his buddy.

Jonas shook his head. “Look at that dope’s nuts”, he said under his breath. “He’ll never make it to five.”

“Lars”, the voice said. “What’s your choice? How many weights will Jonas be able to take?”

Lars cleared his throat and looked at Jonas. His blond buddy nodded.

“Five”, Lars said confidently.

Jonas nodded, flexing his muscles and breathing in and out slowly.

“Five weights”, the voice repeated. “You are sure?”

“Yes”, Lars said.

“Jonas”, the voice said. “The balls, please.”

Jonas walked to the center of the stage and allowed the stagehands to pull his nuts down to the bottom of his smooth sac before sliding them into a small hole so that they were resting between the platform and the plate.

One of the stagehands flipped the switch and the plate lowered until it touched Jonas’ nuts.

“Let’s hope your testicles don’t share the same fate as those blue balls we saw explode earlier”, the voice said, causing the stagehands to grin while the audience roared with laughter.

Jonas bit his lower lip.

Lars and the Italian team watched as the stagehand placed the first weight on top of the pole. With a loud CLANK, it dropped onto the plate, smashing into Jonas’ balls and making the young Swede open his mouth and let out a groan.

The stagehand chuckled and produced the second weight. He held it up and looked at Jonas’ face, a mischievous smile on his face.

The second weight crashed down onto the first one, causing Jonas’ eyes to widen as a soft moan escaped his throat.

The camera zoomed in on his fat balls as they bulged between the platform and the plate.

Lars clenched his fist and mumbled something.

The third weight dropped down onto the pile, smashing the poor Scandinavian’s big, juicy balls and flattening them like two meaty pancakes.

When the fourth weight hit the top of the pile, Jonas shrieked in pain. His nuts bulged obscenely, swelling rapidly under all the weights. A bead of sweat ran down Jonas’ handsome face and he clenched his teeth and waited for the last weight to be dropped onto his testicles.

The stagehand took his time, smirking at the poor Swede’s predicament. Finally, he let it drop down, giving it an extra shove for good measure.

Jonas let out a miserable scream as his nuts bore the full brunt of the blow. Both of his precious testicles were compressed between the platform and the plate and he clenched his eyes shut, breathing rapidly.

Antonio chuckled and nudged his buddy’s side.

Fabio laughed, fondling his nuts.

“Congratulations”, the voice said under the polite applause of the audience. “Now it’s time for team Italy to see if they can match your success.”

The stagehands lifted the weights and freed Jonas’ balls who walked back to join his buddy, rubbing his balls and grimacing in pain.

“Great!” Lars grinned, high-fiving his friend. “That was a nice start. I’ll have to go higher next time, though…”

Jonas groaned. “Higher?! My nuts hurt like hell!”

“You know, I shouldn’t let you influence me.” Lars pointed at Fabio. “Look at that stud’s meatballs. He’ll easily match us. You know, I would have gone with ten if you hadn’t talked me out of it…”

“Did you see what happened to those rubber balls, man? I don’t want my balls to end up like that, splattered all over the stage!” Jonas complained.

Lars rolled his eyes. “Stop thinking about your nuts for just a minute, okay? We have to risk a little something if we want to win!”

“Stop thinking about my nuts?!” Jonas spat. “Stop thinking about my nuts!?!”

Lars turned away from his buddy, crossing his arms, slowly shaking his head. “I know it, they’ll beat us. I should have gone with ten.”

Jonas grimaced. “It’s me whose balls are on the line, okay?”

“Well, maybe I should have taken your place. I told you my balls are tougher.” He adjusted his package.

Jonas glanced down at Lars’ crotch. The words “These balls are safe” on his tight boxer briefs were slightly distorted because of the shape of Lars’ genitals. “Yeah, sure, whatever. Now it’s too late, asshole!”

Lars ignored him and watched Fabio let the stagehand slip his big nuts into the hole between the platform and the plates.

“Come on, amico!” Antonio shouted.

“Viva Italia!” Fabio replied, grinning.

The stagehand took the first weight and held it on top of the pole.

“Bring it on”, Fabio grinned.

The stagehand chuckled and let the weight drop down the plate, making the handsome stud inhale sharply.

“How does it feel?” Antonio asked, grinning.

Fabio’s grin looked slightly strained. “Like a sweet kiss from your mother”, he mused, causing the audience to laugh out loud.

Antonio chuckled while Lars shot Jonas an angry look. “See?” he hissed. “And they are putting on a better show.”

The second weight dropped down onto Fabio’s nuts, compressing them and causing Fabio to let out a throaty grunt.

“Another kiss from my mother, amico?” Antonio laughed.

“Yeah”, Fabio said weakly. “And from your father.”

The stagehand prepared the third weight and let it smash down onto the pile. Fabio’s eyes widened and he whispered, “Cazzo.”

“Come on, man, two more and you’ve done it”, Antonio shouted.

“Fuck”, Fabio groaned. “Yeah, just two more.”

His balls were flattened between the platform and the plate as the stagehand let the fourth weight drop down.

Fabio’s eyes flickered and he grimaced in pain.

“One more”, Antonio said. “You can take it, man!”

Fabio whimpered in pain.

The stagehand chuckled and lined up the final weight. Like he had done with Jonas, he gave the weight a cheerful shove, smashing it onto the pile, causing Fabio’s nuts to deflate momentarily before retrieving their original shape.

Fabio’s mouth opened wide as he let out a groan that came from deep within his throat. His eyes crossed and his upper body convulsed as the pain hit his brain.

“Cazzo”, he coughed. “Fuck!”

“Yeah!” Antonio cheered, raising his arms and jumping up and down. “You did it! Fantastic, amico!”

Apparently, Fabio wasn’t in the mood for celebrating, yet. His face was beet red as the stagehand took the weights off the plate and slipped Fabio’s balls back through the hole.

Fabio groaned and doubled over, clutching his balls and limping back to his buddy who gave him a rapturous hug and screamed in joy.

“See?” Lars turned to Jonas. “He was almost at his limit. If I’d gone with seven or eight, we would have won!”

Jonas shot him an angry look. “You wanted to go with ten, remember? The stage would have been flooded with four nuts worth of meat sauce if you had gotten your way!”

“Fuck you!” Lars hissed.

“Well, fuck you!” Jonas retorted.

“Congratulations, Fabio”, the voice said. “That’s one point for each team. And we’ll be back with more pain – and a surprise guest when The Balls of Others returns after this short break.”

I turned to my assistant Claas.

“That was boring”, Claas said, wincing as he straightened. Carefully, he readjusted his junk and exhaled slowly.

I shrugged. “It was the first round.”

“Not much tension”, Claas continued. “Not much pain. If they continue at this rate, this will be the last episode.”

“Well”, I said, pointing at the screen. “Look at the Swedes. I’m pretty sure there will me a lot more tension in the second round.”

The two blond boys were having a heated discussion. Lars was circling Jonas, who was grimacing and cupping his nuts.

“Now it’s their turn”, Lars said angrily. “If they play their cards right they’ll be able to take the lead.”

“Nah”, Jonas said, glancing at their opponents who were flirting with some of the girls in the audience, joking and laughing heartily.

Antonio had lowered his shorts, exposing his junk. He was wiggling his cock at the girls, slapping it playfully against a hot brunette’s cheek. The brunette grimaced and slapped the Italian’s dick away.

Fabio laughed half-heartedly, examining his nutsack. It looked red and swollen, and he looked a bit worried.

“Look at them”, Jonas continued. “He’s almost done.”

Lars ignored him. “Do you know what happens when there is a tie at the end of the show?”
Jonas sighed.

“We’re gonna have to share the money with them! Do you want that?” Lars asked. Without waiting for an answer, he continued, “In round three, we will call the shots. And your balls better be tough, man!”

Jonas gulped.

The commercials were over and the contestants were ushered to their places.

“Welcome back to The Balls of Others”, the voice said. “10.000 Euro are waiting for the team with the toughest nuts. Will it be the Swedes with Jonas’ happy sack of spuds? Or will the Italian team bring their spicy meatballs to victory? This is round 2. And as a special guest on the program we welcome current WBA middleweight super champion Felix Sturm!”

Lars and Jonas looked at each other.

“Fuck, a boxer”, Jonas whispered.

On the opponent team, Fabio seemed to share Jonas’ fear. Antonio, on the other hand, seemed to be starstruck. He watched, his eyes wide open, a huge smile on his face, as the young boxer entered the studio, wearing his usual clothes, boxers, shoes, and two large red gloves on his hands.

At the same time, two stagehands wheeled in a large piece of prop. It was just one corner of a boxing ring, complete with one and a half meter of ropes on either side and padded turnbuckles.

The crowd went wild, cheering and clapping as the 32-year-old boxing champion passed the first row of the audience, quickly bumping a few fists with his glove-clad hands, grinning and waving at the cameras.

I was a bit surprised how handsome he was. I wasn’t that big of a boxing fan, and the few instances when I had seen the German boxer whose parents had emigrated from Bosnia, his face had been swollen, with blood running down his cheeks and lips. Now, it seemed, his most recent fight had been a while, because he looked positively dashing, clean-cut – and even friendly…

“For round 2, we don’t need a demonstration. Just have a short look at a few scenes from Felix’ fights…”

With that, the screen showed two snippets from two different fights where Felix – accidentally of course – had bashed his opponents’ nuts.

The voice offered some useful additional information: “One of his opponents even lost a testicle. Of course, Felix didn’t want that to happen…”

The camera showed Felix smiling sheepishly, mouthing, “Sorry.”

“Now, Antonio, the score is even”, the voice continued. “Right now, each team has one point. In round 2, points are awarded as follows: If one team succeeds and the other one doesn’t, the winning team will get 3 points. If both teams succeed, each team will get 1 point. If both teams fail, no points will be awarded. It’s your call. How many blows will Fabio’s nuts take?”

Antonio’s excitement was showing. His boxers were tenting with a huge erection as he rushed over to the boxing champion, hugging him and patting his shoulders, stumbling over his words as he let out a flow of compliments.

Fabio looked at him, slightly less excited, slowly caressing his meaty, hairless nuts.

“Antonio?” the voice said.

“Ten”, Antonio blurted out, his face glowing with excitement.

“What?!” Fabio said sharply.

Lars chuckled. “He’s never gonna make it.”

Jonas groaned. “Fuck, neither am I…”

Lars looked at him angrily. “You better, man!”

“Ten!” Antonio repeated, his face glowing with excitement.

“Ten it is”, the voice said.

Suddenly, the lights in the studio went wild and the sound of an alarm siren filled the studio.

The contestants looked at each other in confusion.

“Reversal round!” the announcer’s voice echoed through the studio.

The siren stopped and the announcer explained: “This is a little surprise for you, Lars and Antonio. You thought your balls were safe – but they aren’t…” The voice was interrupted by cheers from the audience.

Antonio still had that stupid, star-struck grin on his face, while Lars’ pale face turned completely white.

“For this round, Lars will take Jonas’ place and Antonio will take Fabio’s.”

Jonas smirked at his buddy. “Good luck, man.”

Lars gulped.

Fabio sighed in relief and turned to Antonio, grabbing his shoulder.

Antonio was staring at the boxer, smiling brightly.

“Antonio, the balls, please”, the voice said.

“Hey, amico”, Fabio whispered.

Antonio didn’t react.

“Hey”, Fabio shouted.

“I can’t believe it”, Antonio said slowly. “Oh, man”, he shouted. “This is getting better and better!”

Fabio raised his eyebrows as Antonio ran towards Felix, trying to take his briefs off at the same time and almost falling down.

His cock slapped against his abs. It was rock hard, glistening at the tip.

He hugged the boxer, his dick jabbing Felix’ junk as the boxer took a step back, looking nervous.

“I can’t believe it”, Antonio repeated, his voice quivering with joy, as he climbed on top of the ring corner.

Two helpful stagehands secured his feet on the ropes at a right angle so that his nuts were dangling freely. After Antonio’s hands were tied behind his back, the stagehands stepped away.
Felix stood in front of Antonio and looked up at him.

“I’ve never done anything like this”, he grinned.

“Oh, it’s easy”, Antonio said cheerfully, smiling brightly. “Just give me everything you got. Man, I can’t believe this is happening.

Felix shrugged.

The young boxer put on a little show, jumping back and forth as if fighting a real opponent in the ring, feigning a few punches, causing the audience to clap and cheer.

Antonio was laughing his head off, his balls swinging between his thighs, his cock pointing straight to the ceiling.

Finally, Felix landed a perfect right uppercut, smashing his glove into Antonio’s defenseless nuts, crushing them into the cute Italian’s body with a resounding THWACK.

Antonio’s laugh stopped and his eyes widened in pain. “Merda!” he screamed from the top of his lungs.

Fabio flinched as Antonio was trying to regain his composure.

“That was a good one”, Antonio grimaced. “You really nailed them!”

Felix continued his spiel, moving back and forth, feigning a blow now and then, before landing another uppercut, this time with his left fist. The glove crunched poor Antonio’s balls against his pelvis, squashing both of his tender orbs against his body, flattening them like pancakes.

Antonio gagged and coughed.

“You are doing great”, Fabio said half-heartedly. “Another one!”

For the third punch, Felix chose a straight jab, powering his fist into the Italian’s nuts, hitting both of his balls and his large, hard cock, and making the poor boy let out a blood-curdling scream as his balls were bashed mercilessly against his body, swinging back and forth when the boxer withdrew his hand.

Antonio’s eyes crossed and he let out a soprano wail. “I give”, he yelped in a high-pitched voice.

“What?!” Fabio screamed. “No! Fuck, no!”

Felix took a step back, raising his eyebrows.

“I give, I give”, Antonio sobbed, his balls dangling between his thighs. They looked red and swollen, two big meatballs that now seemed to fill his entire scrotum. His dick seemed to have been affected, too. It looked slightly bruised and fiery red.

“Fuck, no!” Fabio repeated angrily as the stagehand freed Antonio, allowing him to collapse on the floor.

“It was a pleasure meeting you”, Antonio whimpered. “But it’s too much…”

“No!” Fabio stamped his foot like an angry child. “You can’t just give up! That’s not cool, amico!”
Antonio was sobbing as the stagehands led him to his place where he sank to the floor, curling up in the fetal position, slowly rocking back and forth.

Fabio shook his head in disbelief.

“That’s our chance”, Jonas whispered to Lars. “We can take the lead! 10 blows, that’s all it takes!”

Lars looked at him. “Have you seen that guy pummel those nuts?”

“Look who’s talking now!” Jonas said, grabbing Lars’ shoulders. “Where’s the tough talk, now?!”

Lars grimaced as he slipped off his briefs. He walked up to the ring, climbing on top of the turnbuckle.

The stagehands fastened his legs to the ropes and his hands behind the back.

“Damn”, Lars mumbled. “This is not gonna be good…”

“You can take it!” his buddy shouted, grinning. “Ten blows, that’s all!”

Lars clenched his teeth as the boxing champion approached.

The young Swede slowly nodded, watching Felix’ every step.

On the Italian team’s side, Antonio was torn between wanting to see his favorite boxer work his magic and giving some much needed attention to his battered manhood.

The boxer took his time before delivering the first blow. After watching Antonio go down he seemed set on making his screen time go on a bit longer.

Lars watched him, his legs spread wide, his hands tied behind his back, his nuts dangling vulnerably, waiting for the boxer to make his move.

Then, out of nowhere, Felix delivered a nut-crunching uppercut right into Lars’ fat testicles, smashing them both with admirable precision and making Lars let out a gurgling scream.

His cock twitched as his nuts were slammed into his body, and his face, pale as it was, seemed to turn slightly greenish.

Jonas cheered his buddy on along with the audience.

Lars was breathing heavily, trying to shake off the blow. He coughed and whimpered, grimacing in pain.

Again, the boxer hit his mark, once more landing a perfect upper cut on Lars’ poor, beaten balls. The two precious orbs were crunched into his pelvis with a sick sound, making Lars scream from the top of his lungs.

The third blow hit Lars’ balls from underneath, slamming them up inside their sac. It looked as if the two big plums were going to try to burst through his sac as they were propelled upwards.

Lars cock twitched again, slowly rising, as the young Swede shrieked in pain.

Jonas grinned as he saw his buddy suffering at the hands of the boxer.

With the next blow, the Felix’ aim was a little off. His glove missed the right nut, but it got the left one right on, flattening it and making even the stagehands wince in sympathy as Lars gasped for breath.

His body was glistening with sweat, now, and his cock was growing harder and harder. The good thing was that it was slowly rising out of the danger zone, the bad thing, of course, being that it gave the boxer unhindered access to his swollen nuggets.

And Felix made good use of it. He powered another uppercut into poor Lars’ nuts, hitting both of them dead-on this time, causing the blond Swede to let out an anguished scream.

Felix seemed to be pleased with that reaction as he followed up with the sixth blow right away. He powered his fist into Lars’ balls, crunching his balls perfectly and causing a tiny little bead of precum to ooze out of his rock-hard cock and slowly run down the shaft.

Lars was screaming in pain, gurgling and coughing, as the pain radiated from his nuts, making the rest of his body shake violently.

Felix had his eyes on his two fat danglers that were bruised and swollen, now. With a well-placed punch, he hit Lars’ nuts once again. His cock twitched violently as his nuts were mashed into his body.

Lars howled in agony, his eyes clenched shut, his feet shaking, his abs contracting. Sweat was running down his body. He was gasping for air and turned around, looking for his buddy. “Sorry”, he whimpered. “I gi---“

“No!” Jonas shouted angrily. “Just three more blows!”

Lars whimpered. “But---“

“If you don’t do this, I’ll rip your balls right off, I swear!” Jonas screamed.

“But my cock---“

“Come on, man, three more blows!”

Lars sobbed and looked at Felix who watched him expectantly.

“Go on”, he whispered.

Felix shrugged and grinned. He brought his arm back and let his fist sail in between Lars’ thighs, crunching his tender nuggets into his groin, smashing them hard.

Lars’ eyes lost focus and his mouth opened to let out a bloodcurdling scream. His cock was hard as a rock, precum flowing out of its tip, running down his shaft and coating it with a sticky glazing.

Felix looked at Lars crotch, his facial expression a mixture of disgust and fascination.

He bumped his fists and prepared for the next blow.

It was the perfect strike, hitting both of Lars’ fat testicles dead-on, smashing them incredibly hard and making the poor Swedish boy let out a silent scream as his eyes opened wide and his body convulsed. His nuts contracted and his cock let out a thick, white rope of sticky cum that landed right in the young boxer’s face, hitting him just between the eyes and slowly running down his nose.

Lars gurgled and coughed.

The boxer stumbled back, crossing his eyes to catch a glimpse of the potent spunk that was dripping down his nose.

“Fuck!” the boxer screamed, just as the next spurt of cum flew right at him, aiming for his open mouth. The boxer managed to close his mouth just in time and the thick spurt of juice splattered onto his lips, causing him to shudder in disgust.

Lars was groaning and whimpering, his body shaking as he was caught in a painful orgasm. Another spurt exploded from the tip of his cock, sailing through the air and splattering against the boxer’s naked chest.

“What the fuck!” Felix screamed, his lips coated in Swedish cream.

Lars’ eyes were glassy as he tried to focus on his surroundings, his nuts contracting and pumping another thick spurt of jizz out into the open. “Damn”, he whimpered. “One more blow!”

The boxer didn’t hear him, wiping his mouth with a disgusted expression on his face.

“One more blow!” Lars screamed as his cock let go of another hot load of juicy, white spunk.

Finally, the boxer seemed to hear him. “You filthy fuck!” he screamed and approached the young Swede.

“One more blow!” Lars groaned as the next spurt of cum left his cock, splattering the boxer’s thigh.

“Filthy fucker!” Felix screamed and aimed a devastating uppercut at Lars’ poor, busy balls.

Lars screamed from the top of his lungs as his bollocks were smashed into his body.

“Congratulations”, the voice said. “That’s three points for the Swedish team! That’s the lead for the Swedes. We’ll be right back with the third and final round. Will the Italian’s be able to snatch the victory from the Swedish team’s hands? We’ll see in just a few moments when The Balls of Others returns.”

I turned to Claas.

“Wow”, his eyes were fixed to the screen where the stagehands were frantically trying to clean Felix Sturm’s body with tissues while the young boxer was screaming obscenities and trying to push them away. Meanwhile, Lars was still suspended on the turnbuckle, panting, as the final batch of cum was slowly oozing out the tip of his cock, running down the shaft and coating his bruised, swollen nuts.

Jonas was standing next to him, patting his back. “Great! You did fantastic!”

Lars groaned. “My nuts are killing me.”

“Man, that was great!” Jonas laughed. “You should have seen your cock, letting go of all that cum…”

Lars moaned in pain. “Untie me, please…”

“Sure”, his buddy grinned and started fumbling with his buddies feet.

By now, the stagehands had managed to clean most of the cum off of Felix Sturm. The young boxer stormed out the studio, some shreds of tissue sticking to his body.

“I better see if he is alright”, I said, standing up.

I walked out into the hallway and saw the boxer heading for his dressing room.

“Felix!” I shouted.

The door slammed shut and I heard the key turn inside the lock.

I shrugged. “Okay.”

As I turned around, I saw Erik, the blond stagehand, and his entourage.

Erik was holding a large mallet, slamming it into his hand. “I’m so gonna cream that motherfucker’s nuts”, he grinned. “I hope I get a load out of those fat, juicy nuts!”

His buddies laughed.

Another one of the stagehands, a short, lean redhead, was holding a mallet as well. “So you are going to take the blond one?”

Erik nodded. “Yeah, he’s gonna jizz all over the place, just like his buddy”, he grinned. “You take the Italian, Marc. I bet he’ll give up after a few hits. Those Italian meatballs are not made for this…”

Marc chuckled. “If they want to get the money they have to even the score…” He let the mallet slap into his open hand. “I bet they’ll try anything…”

I walked back into the control room.

On the screen, Claas was watching the Italian team on the screen.

“He’s so great”, Antonio grimaced, fondling his nuts. “Have you seen his technique? He’s the best…”

Fabio looked at him. “3 blows? That’s all? Three blows?” he snapped. “Fuck, and those Nordic bastards are calling the shots, now.”

Antonio looked at him.

“They are leading. They could go with a low number for the final round and they’d win”, Fabio explained, shaking his head.

Antonio thought for a moment. “Shit. You are right.”

“You sounded like a girl when you gave up, you know that?” Fabio grunted. “Fuck. I mean, three hits? Come on, what were you thinking?”

“I was thinking about my balls”, Antonio said. “I mean, I was putting my future children on the line.”

Fabio stared at him. “And what do you think I am doing?!”

Antonio chuckled. “After all the training the chances of Fabio Jr. seeing the light of day are pretty slim, don’t you think?”

Fabio stared at him. “Bastardo!”

“You have to go all in, now”, Antonio said.

“As long as they leave us a chance I’m gonna, I swear”, Fabio said, clenching his teeth.

At the other side of the studio, Lars was curled up on the floor, clutching his balls.

“Come on, this is the final round”, Lars said in a weak voice. “I can almost smell the money…”

“Yeah”, Jonas grinned. “If the smell of your spunk wasn’t that heavy…”

“It’s just one more round”, Lars insisted. “I’ve shown you how it’s done. Now it’s your turn.”
Jonas looked at him.

“Now it’s your turn”, Lars repeated, grimacing in pain. “You have to give everything. I don’t want to have wasted that load for nothing!”

“Please promise me you won’t go too far”, Jonas said slowly. “You know, we could go with just one hit. I could manage one more hit. It might be a draw in the last round, but we’d win the money…”

Lars looked over at the Italian team. “Look at them”, he hissed, caressing his nuts. “We’ll show them that Scandinavians have the toughest balls.”

“They already know”, Jonas said quickly, a look of panic on his face. “You showed them, right? I don’t have to show them! I really don’t!”

“Oh, you will!” Lars whispered.

“Oh, God, no”, Jonas sighed.

Lars was staring at Fabio and Antonio when our French director started the countdown. “Back in 5, 4, …”

“And we are back with The Balls of Others”, the voice said. “Right now, Team Sweden leads with 4 points, while Team Italy has 1 point. In round 3, everything is possible. Points are awarded as follows: If one team succeeds and the other one doesn’t, the winning team will get 4 points. If both teams succeed, each team will get 1 point. If both teams fail, no points will be awarded.”

The camera zoomed in on Lars who hadn’t bothered to put on his briefs again. He was fondling his balls, a confident smile on his face that was occasionally interrupted by a painful grimace.

“And this is round 3: The mallets.”

Dramatic music started playing as Marc and Erik walked in, carrying their big, wooden mallets. The business side of the mallets was covered with a thin coat of felt – after all, we didn’t want the contestants’ nuts to be hurt by any splinters…

A third stagehand wheeled in a table made of transparent plastic that had two small circles on it.

“We’ll give you a quick demonstration”, the voice said.

With that, Erik placed two blue rubber balls on one of the circles, smiling at the camera. Then he stepped back, took aim, and let his mallet swing down.

The camera that was fixed below the table captured the moment the mallet flattened the two blue orbs, causing them to burst instantly.

Marc and Erik looked at each other, raising their eyebrows and opening their mouths in a comical grimace. “Oops.”

The crowd roared with laughter, and the two stagehands couldn’t help but join in, laughing heartily.

Jonas gulped. “Damn”, he whispered.

“Now, Lars, it’s your call. How many shots can Jonas take?” the voice said.

“One”, Jonas whispered. “That’s enough. One.”

Lars looked at the camera and grinned. “Ten”, he said.

Jonas closed his eyes, his head sinking. “Why did you do that?”

Lars grinned confidently. “You’ll make it. Come on, give us a grand finale…”

On the other side, Fabio looked at Antonio.

“Fuck”, Antonio said.

Fabio grabbed his balls and gave them a gentle squeeze. “Amico, don’t worry, my balls are tougher than yours.”

Antonio smiled uneasily.

“Now”, Fabio continued. “I’ll show those fuckers what Italian meatballs are made of…”

Antonio blushed.

“Jonas, Fabio”, the voice said. “The balls, please.”

Fabio and Jonas walked up to the table and positioned their nuts in the circles.

Marc was standing next to Fabio, with Erik taking his position on the other side of the table.

Jonas looked at Erik, a pleading expression on his face that was met with an evil grin.

He sighed.

The two sets of testicles were bulging inside their sacs, their limp dicks resting on top of them.

“Get your cocks hard, guys”, Erik smiled, glancing at his mallet. “You don’t want us to hurt them, do you?”

Fabio and Jonas looked at each other. Reluctantly, they both gave their dicks a few strokes. Fabio’s dick was hard almost immediately, while Jonas’ cock needed a bit more attention.

“Ten hits for 10.000 Euro”, the voice said. “Let’s go for it.”

Both Marc and Erik lifted their mallet.

Fabio closed his eyes, bracing himself for the impact.

Jonas just stared straight ahead.

Erik winked at Marc and they both let their mallet crash down onto the poor contestants’ waiting testicles.

The sound of the impact echoed through the studio. The viewers were treated to a split-screen close-up as all four nuts were crunched flat onto the surface of the table.

The big, juicy nuggets bulged obscenely, flattened between the mallets and the table, as the two contestants let simultaneous soprano screams that could have qualified them for a place in a boys’ choir.

Erik and Marc smiled at each other, looking very satisfied as they lifted their mallets.

Fabio and Jonas were screaming in pain.

Jonas was staring down at his balls in horror while Fabio was jerking his head back, shrieking from the top of his lungs.

The second hit came just a moment later. The mallets crushed down on the poor boys’ genitalia, mashing their precious jewels cruelly as a gurgling scream escaped Jonas’ lips.

Fabio’s reaction was slightly less subdued. He wailed like a banshee, his eyes flickering. His cock was losing nothing of its hardness as his whole body convulsed in pain.

Jonas dick grew even harder as the poor Swede coughed and gagged.

Erik and Marc prepared for their next strike. They lifted the mallets and let them crash down with maximum force.

Unfortunately, Marc’s aim was a little off. His mallet caught Fabios’s left nut dead-on but only managed to hit the side of his right ball, making it slip away and bounce up in its sac.

Erik, on the other hand, scored a perfect hit. His mallet smashed down on Jonas’ tender testicles with beautiful precision, flattening the two orbs like pancakes.

Jonas howled in pain, accompanied by a deep, throaty grunt from Fabio, as both their cocks bounced against their abs, fully hard and glistening with precum.

Erik glanced at Jonas’ schlong and grinned.

The fourth blow did nothing to ease the situation, as the miserable contestants’ junk was cruely compressed once again, making their cocks twitch violently as they both screamed from the top of their lungs.

“Fuck, I can’t stand it”, Jonas wailed, his eyes clenched shut.

“Come on”, Lars shouted.

Fabio groaned in pain, glancing at his opponent and gritting his teeth.

The merciless mallets came down once again, simultaneously grinding both contestants’ ripe plums, making them scream in utter agony.

“Nooooo!” Jonas screamed.

Erik glanced at his face, then at his twitching cock. Seeing his chance at making the Swede lose his load slipping away, he quickly smashed down the mallet, causing Marc to hurry to follow through with Fabio’s balls.

Both contestants were sweating, their bodies glistening, their cocks twitching.

The camera zoomed in on Fabio’s ass. The Italian flag was starting to melt, running down his ass cheek with his sweat, creating three streamlets in green, white and red.

Both Jonas and Fabio were screaming in pain as their manhood was mangled.

Suddenly, Jonas’ nuts contracted.

“Fuck”, he screamed. “No, I can’t take it any more!”

The mallets came down for a seventh blow just as Jonas’ nuts pumped a fresh load of juice into the air. It flew over the table, splattering down on the studio floor, as Jonas screamed in pain. He stumbled backwards, his cock twitching and dancing, letting go of rope after rope of spunk. His cock hosed down Erik with jet after jet of creamy jizz, while the cute blond stagehand smiled with satisfaction.

“Nooo!” Lars screamed. “Think of the money!”

Fabio was gritting his teeth, sweat running down his face as he glanced at his opponent who collapsed on the floor, his body convulsing, his spunk oozing out of his cock and creating a sticky, white puddle on the black floor.

“Fuck!” Lars screamed, stamping his foot.

Jonas curled up on the floor, clutching his battered testicles, sobbing in pain.

Erik looked around, smiling contently, as he wiped a splatter of spunk from his brow.

Fabio was gritting his teeth.

“Come on”, Antonio shouted. “He’s out! This is your chance!”

Marc lined up his mallet.

Fabio closed his eyes, panting heavily. His cock was rock hard, dripping wet with his own precum and beads of Jonas’ jizz.

The red-haired stagehand lifted his mallet for the penultimate blow. He let the wooden mallet crash down on the Italian’s big, juicy meatballs, bringing an anguished scream from his lips. His dick twitched.

Fabio clenched his teeth, trying to hold the content of his balls in, but to no avail. His cock began shooting like a geyser, spreading his juice all over the table.

“Merda!” the Italian screamed.

Marc watched wide-eyed as batches of spunk landed on his shirt and trousers.

He lifted the mallet of his head and smashed it down with all the force he could muster. Fabio’s eyes crossed and his body cramped. His cock was unloading spurt after spurt of his precious cream as his nuts were flattened cruelly between the mallet and the table.

“Congratulations!” the voice said.

Fabio screamed in pain, staggering backwards, almost tripping over poor Jonas who was sobbing and moaning.

“The final score: 4 points for the Team Sweden”, the voice continued. “And 5 points for Team Italy.”

Fabio sank to his knees, clutching his battered balls while the audience erupted in cheers and applause.

From above, a rainfall of glitter descended on Fabio and Jonas as the theme music played.

Antonio was jumping down in ecstasy, his hands raised into the air.

Fabio was rocking back and forth, his mouth wide open, cupping his balls and screaming in pain.

“And that’s it for today. Congratulations, Italy!” the voice announced. “Thank you very much for watching The Balls of Others!”

Lars sank down, looking disappointed, while his buddy was caressing his balls, whimpering and moaning in pain.

The lights went up in the studio and the audience quickly left.

Lars left with them, leaving his buddy writhing on the floor.

Antonio was jubilant, dancing around Fabio who didn’t seem to share his friend’s enthusiasm right now.

“Oh, fuck, amico”, Antonio laughed. “That was brilliant. You know what? First thing tomorrow we’re gonna get some first-class ass!”

“Maybe not tomorrow”, Fabio said weakly, whimpering in pain.

I turned to Claas.

“It was alright”, he shrugged. “A bit too much semen for my taste.”

I grinned. “You up for another episode?”

Claas looked at me. “Why not – do you have any ideas for games?”

I thought for a moment. “Not right now. But I’m sure we’ll get plenty of suggestions from our viewers…”