Endurance (Julian meets Ben)

Special thanks to Julian for the idea for this story! If you (yes, I mean you, the one who truly believes he has balls of steel) would like to meet the Ballbusting Boys and see yourself in a story please read this post for more details.

Featured in this story: Ben, Kev and Logan (click for pictures)

The two handsome young men entered the gym, greeting their supporters as they chanted, clapping and cheering.
 
“Balls of steel! Balls of steel! Balls of steel!” Ben’s supporters yelled, clapping rhythmically.
 
“Balls of steel! Balls of steel! Balls of steel!” Julian’s supporters yelled, clapping rhythmically.
 
It was no co-incidence that both Ben’s and Julian’s supporters used the same chant as both Ben and Julian truly believed in the invincibility of their genitals.
 

Ben was 20 years old, a handsome young man with a muscular, athletic body and a cocky attitude. He had black hair and brown eyes, and he was wearing a white singlet that contrasted perfectly with his suntan. It was sitting so tightly that his muscular abs, his perfect butt and the very impressive bulge in his crotch were on full display as he waved to the crowd, flexing his muscles and making them clap and cheer.
 
Julian was 22, slim and muscly, with brown hair and brown eyes and a beard. His singlet was yellow – and it was just as revealing as Ben’s. His ample package shifted from side to side as he ran back and forth in front of the crowd, clapping and cheering and egging them on.
 
“Balls of steel! Balls of steel! Balls of steel!” The gym was filled with the crowd’s chanting.
 
“Okay”, Kev chuckled, rubbing his hands. “This is gonna get interesting.” He was sitting in the commentator’s booth, providing a live commentary for the college radio channel.
 
In the middle of the gym were a few mats, an improvised wrestling ring.
 
Logan was the ref. He was 18 years old, blond and blue-eyed, a popular high school wrestler with multiple championship wins under his belt. He was wearing black pants and a black and white striped shirt.
 
“Come on, guys, let’s go!” he yelled before blowing his whistle.
 
Julian and Ben stood in front of him, cocky smiles on their faces.
 
“Okay, guys”, Logan grinned. “Here are the rules: No fair moves, no matter what. I don’t want to see any legal holds. Clear?”
 
“Crystal”, Ben grinned, adjusting his crotch.
 
“Yep”, Julian nodded his head.
 
In the commentator’s booth, Kev explained what was going on to the radio audience. “This match is low blows only. A few weeks ago, Julian made fun of Ben’s balls, or something.” He paused. “Or maybe it was the other way around.” He laughed. “Whatever… Anyway, both of them are claiming they have balls of steel, and both of them are willing to prove it.” He chuckled. “I bet both of them will be walking funny when the match is over, though…”
 
Ben and Julian were posing for their fans, making them cheer and clap and laugh and chant. “Balls of steel! Balls of steel! Balls of steel!”
 
 “Gentlemen”, Logan smiled, taking a step back. “Balls out, please.”
 
Much to the joy of the crowd, Ben and Julian ripped off the part of their custom tailored singlets that covered their genitals, revealing their big, fat ballsacks and their meaty cocks.
 
“Whoa, whoa, whoa”, Kev laughed in the commentator’s box. “I didn’t expect that. Now we have a ballgame!”
 
“Round one”, Logan announced with a wide grin. “Nut kicks.” He flipped a coin to see who got to go first, and Ben was the lucky winner. “Go!”
 
“Balls of steel! Balls of steel!” The gym was filled with the cheers and chants of the crowd as Julian spread his legs, putting his hands behind his head and shooting Ben a cocky smile.
 
“Give it your best shot”, Julian grinned. “Don’t hold back – you know I won’t…”
 
A split-second later, Ben’s foot connected with Julian’s ball bag, ramming his fat, meaty testicles into his body and eliciting an anguished wail.
 
“So much for your balls of steel, buddy”, Ben roared with laughter as the crowd went wild.
 
Julian’s face contorted in pain, and he put his hands on his knees, trying to power through the pain that was emanating from his testicles.
 
“More like tin foil testies, huh?” Ben chuckled.
 
“My turn”, Julian announced, grinning as he added in Ben’s tone of voice: “Buddy.”
 
Ben shrugged his shoulders, acting cocky and confident as he moved his hips, causing his balls to smack against his thighs with loud slaps.
 
An even louder slap marked the arrival of Julian’s foot at its intended target: His instep slammed into Ben’s groin, squishing his balls flat and making him let out an anguished grunt through his gritted teeth.
 
The crowd went wild with cheers and applause as Ben struggled to remain standing.
 
They went back and forth for what seemed like an eternity, kicking each other in the nuts with ball-shattering kick after ball-shattering kick.
 
The crowd was hooting and whooping, cheering and chanting: “Balls of steel! Balls of steel!”
 
Both Julian and Ben felt empowered by the chants, spreading their legs willingly to prove the superiority of their stud spuds, letting their nuts get crushed again and again.
 
“Look at their faces!” Kev laughed in the commentator’s box. “I think I see their eyes well with their unborn sons!”
 
Indeed, both Julian’s and Ben’s eyes were moist and glassy – even though neither of them would admit that they were crying from the pain.
 
Their bare balls were battered and bruised, rapidly swelling from each other’s relentless attacks.
 
It was as if they were hellbent on destroying each other’s chances of ever fathering children.
 
After several dozens of family tree trimming kicks, Logan stepped in, raising his hands and announcing that round one was a draw.
 
The audience clapped and cheered as Ben and Julian nursed their battered balls, looking at each other with a mix of admiration and anger in their eyes.
 
“Round two”, Logan announced with a booming voice. “Knees.”
 
The crowd roared in anticipation of another fierce battle, and they weren’t disappointed.
 
Ben and Julian put up quite a fight, going back and forth, kneeing each other in the nuts.
 
Both of them knew that they had to go full force in order to win this things, and the lack of respect for each other’s sex lives was rewarded with anguished grunts, pain-contorted grimaces – and riotous applause from the audience.
 
“That’s gotta hurt”, Kev mumbled in into the microphone, cringing in sympathy as he watched a particularly nasty hit to Ben’s genitals. “He promised me that I’d be godfather to his firstborn – but I seriously doubt it will come to that…”
 
Kev’s chances of ever becoming a godfather took blow after sperm-killing blow, but Ben was in no way inferior to Julian.
 
Whoever stood in line to be godfather for Julian’s children would have to wait and see.
 
Time and time again, Ben rammed his knee into Julian’s ball bag, flattening his nuts with all the force he could muster.
 
The audience loved every minute of it, greeting every knee-to-nut contact with cheers, laughter and applause.
 
The two opponents were grimacing and grunting, their faces red and wet with sweat, their nuts beet red, battered and ridiculously bloated.
 
The knee round ended in a draw as well, and Logan decided it was time to take matters into his own hands.
 
“Round three is the speedbag round”, Logan said as an assistant helped him put on a pair of boxing gloves. He bumped his fists against each other and got down on his knees. “Who is first?”
 
The audience went wild as Julian spread his legs wide, letting his swollen nut sack dangle between his thighs. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, sending a prayer to the fertility gods above.
 
It wasn’t certain whether or not his prayers were answered – there was no uncertainty about the fact that Julian would not be able to have sex for the foreseeable future.
 
Logan really went to town on his nuts, smashing and trashing them to riotous applause and cheers from the audience.
 
“Holy fucking shit!” Kev laughed. “Look at those nuts fly!”
 
For a full minute, Logan worked over Julian’s swollen speedbag, before switching to Ben and continuing the training session on his testes.
 
The routine went on for several minutes: a minute of speedbagging on Julian’s sack was followed by a minute of speedbagging on Ben’s bag. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.
 
After ten minutes, Logan was sweating even more profusely than the owners of his traingin equipment, and he called third round a draw as well.
 
“So it all comes down to the last round”, Logan announced, wiping his forehead with a towel. “The nut stomp-a-thon.”
 
The crowd went wild.
 
“This is where the part that the audience likes best”, Kev explained to the listeners at home. “And there’s a reason for that, because: Who do you think will do the stomping?”
 
The crowd formed two long lines: Ben’s fans lined up to stomp the life out of Julian’s nuts, and Julian’s fans lined up to do the same to Ben’s balls.
 
Ben and Julian were lying flat on the ground, head to head, each of them under a trample board that had their balls exposed and vulnerable. A little step made it easer for crowd to stomp on their nuts. It was a foolproof set-up: Step up. Stomp down. Step down. Next.
 
Every member of the audience had thirty seconds to do inflict some serious damage to the testicles under their feet. Dozens of volunteers waiting in line, laughing and chatting, eager to stomp the studs’ swollen spuds.
 
“Don’t you just love a bit of audience participation?” Kev quipped in the commentator’s box. “I see some people wearing boots, sneakers, rubber boots – oh, man, those are gonna leave a mark!”
 
Logan blew the whistle, motioning for the first volunteers to step up.
 
A heavyset bodybuilder with an evil grin stepped up, stomping down on Julian’s nuts with his well-worn sneakers, eliciting grunts and groans and whimpered of pain.
 
Next to him, a soccer player had brought his cleats, crushing Ben’s balls under them with a cruel expression on his face. Ben was screaming in agony as his nuts were viciously crunched.
 
The blow of the whistle indicated the end of the first thirty seconds. The soccer player and the bodybuilder stepped down reluctantly, and two new guys took their position.
 
“Maybe you’ll get another chance”, Logan told them. “We’ll do this until one of them gives up.”
 
The bodybuilder and the soccer player chuckled and got in line again.
 
“Oh, wow”, Kev chuckled in the commentator’s box. “The lack of respect for these guys unborn kids is just astounding. I mean, look at these nuts get crushed!”
 
Ben and Julian were moaning and groaning, gritting their teeth as the audience stomped the life out of their battered, swollen nuts.
 
Both of them were stubborn and proud, too proud to give up, too stubborn to admit defeat, even though their nuts were turning black and blue and purple, and their chances of ever fathering children diminished with every guy that stepped on their nuts.
 
In the end, it came down to sweet little irony: Masculinity defeated by femininity. After having endured sneakers and boots, leather shoes, sandals and even a pair of bare size 12 feet, Julian’s balls were defeated by a pair of stilettos.
 
They were worn by a nerdy looking young man who smiled sheepishly as he put on the shoes. The sheepishness was gone, though, when he stepped up and squished Julian’s nuts under them.
 
Julian’s eyes widened and he let out an ear-piercing scream as the stiletto heels dug deep into the tender flesh of his bruised, battered, bloated testicles.
 
The crowd roared with laughter, and the nerdy young man enjoyed his moment in the sun, standing proud on his stilettos, viciously piercing Julian’s battle-tested testicles.
 
Julian’s nuts deflated dangerously as the heels threated to put donut holes into his plump pieces of precious pastry.
 
“I giiiiiiiive!” Julian shrieked in a girlish squeal.
 
The nerdy young man’s smile widened as the crowd erupted in cheers and applause.
 
Standing on Julian’s defeated nads, he took a bow, stepping down only when Julian’s voice took on a very urgent and slightly hysterical tone.
 
“The winner”, Logan yelled, “is Ben!”
 
Ben raised his hands in a victory pose, roaring like a bear.
 
Julian whimpered in pain, humiliated, defeated, examining his battered balls, as the nerdy young man who had delivered the mortal blow to his masculinity was carried through the gym in an improvised victory parade.
 
“That’s it, folks!” Kev laughed. “Ben’s balls of steel might be ruined just like Julian’s – but they won!”
 
A little while later, when the crowd had left, Kev and Logan joined Ben and Julian in the locker room.
 
The two contestants were leaning back, ice packs on their crotches.
 
“Now you know”, Ben chuckled. “Never mock my balls of steel.”
 
Julian let out a little laugh. “You got lucky.”
 
Ben raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
 
“Well, if that nerd had been in your line you would have lost”, Julian shrugged his shoulders. “I mean, nobody can take getting trampled by stilettos.”
 
Ben’s eyes narrowed.
 
Julian shrugged his shoulders. “Right?”
 
Ben inhaled deeply. “Wanna bet?”
 
Logan and Kev looked at each other, rolling their eyes.
 
Logan chuckled. “I guess we better get ourselves some heels.”