Friday, February 24, 2017

Welcome to the team! (Myles meets Phil)

Special thanks to Myles for the idea for this story! If you (yes, I mean you, the one who always dreamt about becoming a world class soccer player!) would like to meet the Ballbusting Boys and see yourself in a story please read this post for more details.

Featured in this story: Phil (click for pictures)

Phil cracked his knuckles. “Alright”, he said with a smile. “Let’s start.”

The 18 year old soccer star was in charge of the initiation ceremony.

Every new guy on the team had to go through this, and Phil had fought hard to get a chance to give his new team mate Myles a welcome he’d never forget…

“Take your clothes off”, Phil said cheerfully, stretching his legs and his arms.

After one of Phil’s team mates had been on the sidelines for almost two months due to injuries conducting the last initiation, the team had set-up a new rule: Never deliver an initiation without warming up first.

Phil was wearing his training gear: white soccer cleats and knee-length white socks, green shorts and a tight-fitting green-striped shirt. The color looked good on the handsome redhead.

Myles looked at him and smiled as he stripped naked. Soon he’d be wearing a similar outfit. He was looking forward to it.

Myles had always wanted to join the team ever since he started playing soccer back in kindergarten. He was a little taller than Phil, and just as athletic, with muscles in all the right places. Green was a color that looked good on him. It contrasted nicely with his black hair and his brown eyes.

As much as Myles was looking forward to putting on the training gear, he had to go through the initiation, first.

He had heard all kinds of stories about the initiation. Tall tales about guys joining the women’s team afterwards. A future team mate had played an audio for Myles, allegedly taken a day after his initiation, a vivid description of the events, spoken in a voice that was comically high-pitched…

Myles had laughed along with the rest of the team, assuming that the guys were just trying to take him for a ride.

That voice had sounded ridiculous, as if the speaker had taken a deep drag of helium. It had sounded hilarious, surreal, a joke.

The other guys had tried to convince him otherwise but they hadn’t been able to.

Now that Myles was standing in front of Phil, bare naked, his hands covering his long, meaty dick and his fat, low hanging balls, he wasn’t so sure anymore…

“Hey”, Phil barked, throwing a hard punch at Myles’ abs. “What do you think you’re doing with your hands?!”

Myles had been lost in thought, and the punch hit him completely out of the blue. It knocked the wind out of his lungs and he let out a miserable groan as his grabbed his stomach, doubling over in pain.

“Sorry”, Myles croaked. “I---“

“That’s better”, Phil said with a sneer, taking advantage of the fact that Myles’ precious equipment was unprotected now by bringing his foot up between his legs.

It was a hard, mean kick, as might be expected from a soccer player, and it connected perfectly with Myles’ dangling ballbag and his long, limp dick.

A wet splat echoed through the locker room

Phil laughed out loud as he watched the head of Myles’ dick smack against his abs while his balls were bouncing inside his roomy sack.

“Oh god”, Myles croaked, his face contorting pain as his hands slowly wandered south, tentatively reaching for his manhood. “My balls.”

Unfortunately, Myles’ fingers didn’t reach his nuts in time to prevent another hard kick to land right on target.

Like an ace striker seizing the opportunity to score a goal by outsmarting the goalie, Phil delivered a hard kick to Myles’ nuts, flattening the twin orbs like pancakes.

Myles’ eyes crossed and he let out a dry cough as he fell to his knees, doubling over in agony.

“Oh, come on”, Phil chuckled, circling his future team mate. “That was nothing. Get up!”

Myles let out a miserable groan. “Please, don’t---“

“Get up!” Phil repeated. “Now!”

When Myles didn’t show any signs of complying, Phil kicked his nuts from behind. His cleat-clad foot connected with Myles’ hands, and Myles’ balls were squished flat once again.

Myles screamed from the top of his lungs as he collapsed on the ground.

“I said get up!” Phil barked, aiming a hard kick at Myles’ ribs.

“Just a moment”, Myles whimpered, his face contorted in pain. “Give me just a moment.”

Phil rolled his eyes. “Is that what you’re going to tell your opponent on the field?” He aped Myles’ voice. “Just a moment, just a moment.” Switching back to his own voice, he added with a sneer, “Get up. Now. Or you’ll regret it.”

Myles looked up, his brown eyes filled with terror. “Phil”, he croaked. “Please, stop, I---“

Phil interrupted him with a hard slap to the face. “Listen, mate, here are the rules. Rule number one: You only talk when I give you permission. Rule number two: You do what I say. Rule number three: When you’re in pain you don’t ask me to stop. You beg for more.” He looked down at Myles. “Got it?”

Myles nodded.

Phil smiled. “I give you permission to speak.”

“Got it”, Myles mumbled.

“Good”, Phil grinned. “Now get up.”

Myles groaned. “But---“

“Rule number one!” Phil rolled his eyes before slamming his foot up between Myles’ legs, crunching his nuts hard and making him scream in pain. “You’re exceptionally stupid, huh?”

Myles let out a miserable whimper, clutching his battered balls.

“Do you want me to stop?” Phil asked.

Myles looked up at him, his face contorted in pain. He bit his lower lip, hesitating.

Phil chuckled. “Good, you are learning. You have my permission to speak whenever I ask you a question.”

Myles nodded.

“So do you want me to stop?” Phil repeated.

Myles cleared his throat. “No”, he whispered in a toneless voice. “Give me more, please.”

“Attaboy”, Phil chuckled. “Spread your legs.”

Myles groaned and got up, his knees trembling. His hands were pressing against his thighs, his knuckles whitening. He closed his eyes, pressing his lips shut, bracing himself for the impact.

Phil kicked Myles’ nuts with all the force he could muster. His instep connected with Myles’ rapidly swelling balls with a resounding smack, flattening them against his body.

Myles screamed from the top of his lungs, his eyes opening wide. He doubled over but managed to keep his hands on his thighs, his body shaking, his balls dangling wildly between his thighs.

Phil chuckled and delivered another hard kick to Myles’ babymakers, lifting the handsome young man off the ground.

“Fuuuuuuck!” Myles screamed, immediately adding, “More! Give me more!”

Phil let out a laugh and followed up with a hard knee that crunched Myles’ nuts against his pelvis.

“My--- More! More! More!” Myles squealed from the top of his lungs.

“You’re getting into this, huh?” Phil quipped, grabbing Myles shoulders before ramming his knee up between Myles’ thighs once again.

He hit Myles’ ballbag right in the middle, driving Myles’ left nut against his left thigh, and his right nut against his right thigh, crushing them both flat.

Myles’s very appropriate reaction brought a satisfied smile to Phil’s face: Myles’ eyes crossed and he let out an ear-piercing scream.

He was rewarded with a hard kick to the stomach that knocked the wind out of his lungs and made him collapse on the floor.

“Oh my g--- Give me more, please!” Myles croaked, writhing on the ground, grimacing in pain, one hand clutching his battered balls, the other hand rubbing his red abs.

“Lie down”, Phil said. “Flat on the ground.”

Myles rolled to the side, groaning in pain.

“I said flat on the ground!” Phil yelled, kicking Myles’ butt.

Myles let out an anguished howl, squirming in pain.

“Is that flat on the ground?!” Phil grabbed a soccer ball and hurled it at Myles.

It hit him in the head, making him scream in pain as the ball bounced away.

Myles curled up in a ball, his hands clutching his head.

Phil rolled his eyes. He looked around and found a bag of soccer balls. He reached inside and grabbed one, hurling it at Myles and hitting him in the back.

“Flat! On! The! Ground! Flat! On! The! Ground!” In rapid succession, Phil dashed the balls at Myles, hitting his back and his ass, his head and his legs.

Myles grunted and groaned, screamed and moaned with each impact that left fiery red marks on his muscular body.

“Okayokayokayokayokay!” he yelled finally, whimpering in pain.

Phil held on to the ball in his hands. “Flat on the ground”, he said.

Myles groaned and complied, laying down on his back, his arms by his sides, his eyes closed, his face a mask of pain.

The two tender nuggets between Myles’ thighs had turned from rosy-red to angry purple, and there were several marks where the soccer balls had connected with his body.

Phil took a couple of steps forward, straddling Myles. He looked down at him. “You should have obeyed right away”, he said.

Myles opened his eyes.

A split-second later, the soccer ball connected with his swollen nuts.

A loud splat echoed through the room.

“Don’t you dare move!” Phil barked.

Myles groaned, every muscle in his body tense and taut as he tried not to double over while the white, hot pain was radiating from his hurt babymakers, crawling into his abdomen, numbing his brain.

Phil watched him with a mean chuckle.

Myles was sweating profusely. His pain-contorted face was red and moist, bead of sweat running down his cheeks.

“Okay, now it’s time for a serious warm-up”, Phil said.

Myles opened his eyes.

“Not for you”, Phil grinned. “For me.”

With that, he jumped on Myles, his feet landing right on Myles’ swollen balls, flattening them and making Myles’ eyes bulge obscenely.

Myles body jerked. His mouth opened in a silent scream.

Phil started running on the spot, squashing Myles’ nuts under his cleats and making Myles find his voice again.

The naked young man screamed from the top of his lungs as Phil treated his most prized possessions as a training mat, alternating rapid running and easy jogging as a cardiovascular exercise.

After half a dozen alterations, Phil stretched his limbs, bending his right leg with his foot firmly planted on Myles’ junk, while bringing his left leg back, pressing it against Myles’ chest.

He changed his position a couple of times to stretch his legs properly before hopping up and down on Myles’ abs.

By now, Myles was a sobbing mess.

His nuts were bloated and bruised, and his abs and his chest were covered in nasty cleat marks. His eyes were glassy and red. Tears were streaming down his face.

Phil stepped off his makeshift training mat, looked at Myles and grinned. “I think we’re almost done.”

Myles looked at him, a frightened look in his eyes.

Phil chuckled and brought his leg back. “Welcome to the team, Myles”, he said cheerfully before planting a devastating kick between Myles’ thighs.

His foot connected with Myles severely swollen babymakers, ramming them into his body and eliciting a gurgling squeal from the young man.

Phil laughed as Myles doubled over and curled up in a ball, his legs kicking, screaming from the top of his lungs as he clutched his aching testicles.

“That was fun, wasn’t it?” Phil chuckled.

It took a couple of minutes until Myles was able to speak again.

“My fucking nuts”, he croaked, cradling his bruised and battered balls. “You ruined my fucking nuts…”

Phil shrugged his shoulders, smiling apologetically. “It’s nothing personal, Myles.” He helped him up and put his arm around Myles’ shoulders. “Welcome to the team.”

Myles nodded. His pain-contorted face turned into something that resembled a smile. “Thanks”, he whispered. “It’s a dream come true…”

Phil chuckled. “You’re very welcome, mate.”

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