A Safe Space for Balls Part 3: The Consequences written by Harry

 

 

A Safe Space for Balls Part 3: 

The Consequences

 

written by Harry

A Safe Space for Balls

Part 3: The Consequences

 

Day 13: Bill

 Ballbusting Boys: A Safe Space for Balls: Part 1 written by Harry 

Ballbusting Boys: A Safe Space for Balls Part 2: The Intervention written by Harry

Bill Brady walked along the pool deck with his hoodie still covering his mousy brown hair. His fists were thrust deep in the pockets of his jeans. Bill bent to pick up a stray kick board, but then decided better of it and booted it across the tiles. His sneakers squeaked with a sickly echo off the high ceiling.

 

Nobody else was here yet. It was very early.

 

The Midtown High School pool had a lot of memories for Bill. The more distant ones were the sweetest. Way back in junior high when he first joined the team, he’d discovered that despite his scrawny stature, swimming was a sport where he could legitimately compete. And not long after that, when he met a kid from his grade who had the most welcoming, soulful brown eyes. A kid whose smile flashed easily, and brightly, and toward everybody without discrimination. His smile even flashed toward Bill.

 

Bill’s more recent memories at this same pool were less sweet. As the boys had matured into high school teens, things got complicated. Some of that came down to just bad luck in the DNA lottery. While his buddies rode the wave of adolescence and transformed into study jocks, Bill became known for his “three little acorns.” It was a running joke at the expense of his tightly packed balls and stubby, cut cockhead. Highly unfair, in Bill’s opinion, since his stuff was almost within the “average” range—at least according to how he measured himself.

 

It was around that same period of time that the boy with the soulful brown eyes dumped him. Not for any reason; at least not any reason that Bill could remember.

 

Just because.

 

Just because some random asshole happened to have a straighter jawline than Bill. Just because his junk inside his tight blue speedo looked a certain way.

 

All that drama might have made for a good story, if Bill hadn’t been living it. To him it just felt like one defeat after another. As recently as the swim meet on Friday, Bill swam the anchor leg on the relay that ended with Midtown’s defeat. Even to himself Bill didn’t acknowledge that he’d swum slow on purpose. Never would allow himself to think that thought. Sure, he’d slapped the water and churned up his kick to show his effort. But he’d been four seconds off of his personal best. Four seconds is like fifty miles in swimming.

 

Forget it, Bill thought, tucking his chin into his chest. That was their defeat. Today will be my victory!

 

With that uplifting thought, Bill tossed a black rubber diving Brick out into the middle of the pool. He watched the ugly mass sink and vanish like a shadow into the deep water.

 

***********************************************************************************

 

“I’m coming anyway.”

 

“Nope. The only way I’m able to do this is if you take my paper route.”

 

“Can’t Logan’s bratty cousins contribute for once? At least they ride bikes! This neighborhood’s gonna be confused when I deliver their newspapers from the ‘Vette.” 

 

“They’ll probably be happy to get it so much faster than usual.”

 

“This car is too hot to use for flinging prehistoric journalism to people who don’t have Twitter.”

 

Jayden reached over from the passenger’s seat and traced his forefingers around the little bone on the inside of Chase’s elbow. The blonde’s tension dissolved like a pin stuck in a balloon. Of all their intimacies, this simple one felt the most personal to Chase. Nobody ever touched his funny bone, not even on accident. It was like a button that existed solely for Jayden to remind him, “I’m here.” Of course Jayden had plenty of other buttons to press, too.

 

“You are too hot for a paper route,” Jayden said softly.

 

Chase’s ocean blue eyes darted over to his passenger, wondering if he’d said the wrong thing. He hadn’t meant to be a snob. Not to mention that the only reason he was practically delivering his boyfriend to their enemies was that Chase had badly miscalculated a wager. He felt terrible already.

 

“Babe, I didn’t mean…”

 

“I know.”

 

*************************************************************************************

 

 

Jayden stepped into the bright red speedo and pulled it up over his smooth thighs. The suit was tight, and he squeezed the spandex over the globes of his ass before grabbing the waistband and pulling the front. With a careful hand he adjusted his manhood; the stretchy fabric cupped his bulge flatteringly.

 

Jayden checked out his reflection in the mirror. Although he was more popular for his wrestling, Jayden still swam for Bartlett High. He didn’t like to flaunt it in front of his former Midtown teammates, but wearing the team suit today was a requirement for the bet Chase had lost.

 

Stop blaming Chase, Jayden corrected himself. You didn’t exactly do anything to help out your own odds, Jayden. You almost certainly made them worse.

 

“Who’s that gorgeous guy in the mirror,” a familiar voice whispered. “Can you introduce me?” 

 

Jayden turned around sheepishly. He’d thought he was alone, and he felt a little embarrassed for admiring his image. Even though all guys do it. 

 

“Max? What are you doing here?”

 

“Extra practice,” the auburn haired jock said glumly. Without hesitation he stepped out of his shorts and began rummaging around his bag for his speedo. “Bill said Chase was making everybody who lost their races on Friday put in an extra session.”

 

CRACK.

 

Max yelped and shot up two feet into the air. He reached around to cup his stinging ass, but far too late to prevent the insulting towel snap. Aldo stood behind him, smirking at Max’s theatrical reaction.

 

“But we might get off easy, amigo. Bill told me Chase is letting us off the hook if we can beat any member of the rival team in a race.” Without asking for permission, Aldo reached forward and snapped the waistband of Jayden’s red Bartlett High speedo. “Maybe El Cohete Rojo here thinks he still has speed in the pool like he has on the mats?

 

Aldo swaggered into Jayden’s personal space with his usual confidence. (Although usually his confidence was justified.) Jayden covered his speedo-clad ass with his hands and glowered at the cocky swim-jock. Jayden knew that Chase was not directing this practice. But since he was here anyway, he’d rather spend his time in the water.

 

“You might as well get ready for practice then, Aldo,” he answered the challenge. “Because I’ll beat you even faster in the pool than I did on the mat.”

 

*************************************************************************************

 

Jayden adjusted his goggles and slapped his bare chest to get pumped up. He bent over on the racing block, glancing sidelong toward either side. Aldo and Bill were limbering up, while Max was tightening his goggles.

 

I’ve always been faster than these guys. Since we were kids.

 

But now that they’d all matured into teen jocks, the race was anybody’s to win. They waited for the starting whistle.

 

Then in an instant, the swimmers were stretched above the calm surface, hurtling into the cold, clear water. A fury of white water as they kicked and pulled and dragged their way forward. It was a pure sprint. An explosion of energy and heat and muscle. It was the essence of sport—each athlete propelled only on the merits of his work, his technique and his willpower.

 

Jayden’s lungs burned, but he refused to breathe more than every fourth stroke. Whenever he turned his head, he could see Bill churning though the water in the left lane. He couldn’t see Aldo on the right, but he could feel and hear him splashing, still very much in the race. Max was on the other side of Aldo, not far behind. The competitors hit the final turn neck and neck. Jayden remained under longer after the turn, thrusting his hips in a powerful dolphin kick before breaking the surface. His fast turn was just what he needed, and he emerged a half stroke in front of Bill and Aldo. Forgoing breathing altogether for the final charge, Jayden maintained the slim lead and touched them out at the wall.

 

VICTORY!

 

Jayden’s chest heaved gulps of the humid air. His lungs felt shattered from the final sprint, and his cheeks and neck were flushed from the effort. He snapped his goggles of and pumped his fist. Paddling over to the lane rope, he congratulated Aldo with a big smile and a fist bump. Both guys still too winded from the sprint to speak. Then Jayden turned to the other lane to congratulate Bill, but slim teen was already climbing up to the deck.

 

Jayden hoisted himself back up onto the pool deck, tugging at his unfamiliar red speedo where it clung and bunched against his wet skin. Flushed with exertion and with satisfaction, Jayden approached Bill and offer his hand.

 

“Good race, man. It’s phenomenal how you guys have…”’

 

“Shut up.”

 

Bill ignored the offered handshake. The scrawny boy didn’t even turn around as he surveyed the pool. He was counting off something on his fingers. Jayden shook his head at his bitter former teammate.

 

“Bill, I was hoping that you’d matured enough to show some sportsmanship. Seriously.” The snub from his ex irritated Jayden just enough that he noted cuttingly under his breath: “I guess sometimes the brain’s just as immature as the body.”

 

Finally Bill turned and acknowledged Jayden. A sneer was plastered across his pale, angular silhouette. “Unfortunately you’re getting a little ahead of yourself. I was just checking to see who won.”

 

Jayden raised one eyebrow. “Uh, I know it was close, man. But it wasn’t that close.” By this point the other guys had gathered around them, and Jayden looked to the group for confirmation. “Everybody could see…”

 

“Sure, sure, everybody can see,” Bill waved his hand dismissively. “For example I see The Brick in Aldo’s lane. Congratulations!” Still breathing heavily from the race, Aldo quickly brightened up upon seeing the dark, shimmering object in his lane. He hadn’t even noticed it during the race. His plum lips parted in a smile.

 

“That’s right, chicos!” Puffing up proudly, Aldo tucked his thumbs inside the waistband of his speedos. By completing the swim with the diving brick in his lane, Aldo earned the right to dish out some pain to his teammates. “The Consequences” was a venerable team ritual. [For understanding the significance of The Brick, see Part 1.] 

 

“Consequences time for you, mariposas.” Aldo’s handsome face wore a smug expression only found on those who rarely win anything.

 

“But wait!” Bill shouted theatrically. “There! The Brick is also in Max’s lane!” Sure enough, there was a second oblong black shadow at the bottom of Max’s swim lane. The auburn haired jock gaped at this discovery. His wide amber eyes blinked slowly then lit up. The notion of Aldo dishing out The Consequences to his hyper-sensitive balls was too terrible for Max to imagine. But if he also had a Brick…

 

The hopeful optimism that had kindled in Jayden upon winning his race flickered out. He didn’t know yet where this was heading. But the coincidences were mounting, which suggested the manipulative hand of Bill. Jayden watched his ex with a stony expression as Bill pointed one more time.

 

“Oh gosh. And there’s one in my lane, too.” Bill didn’t even bother feigning surprise this time. His head swiveled and he cocked an eyebrow at Jayden. The white teeth under his smile looked like little fangs. “Gomez, did you also…oh, no, it looks like you didn’t keep a brick in your lane.”

 

Jayden felt his former teammates’ eyes on him. By Bill’s twisted logic, they were justified in believing they’d earned a crack at his nuts. But Jayden couldn’t just accept this travesty.

 

“Look, guys,” Jayden spoke up. He kept his voice calm and reasonable. “Don’t you think it’s just a little too convenient that all of you have bricks? Like, since when have we ever had more than one…”

 

Bill interrupted with a derisive sneer. “You really think you’re that much better than us? Huh, Gomez? Strutting around in your red Bartlett suit. Assuming you won without even looking. Too precious to take The Consequences.”

 

Jayden mouth gaped at the preposterousness of Bill’s mischaracterization. “But you made me wear this, Bill!…and those bricks! Where did they even come from…?” Jayden’s chocolate brown eyes shone on his friends, waiting for them to back him up. Aldo was regarding Jayden’s rival team suit darkly, while Max’s amber eyes darted back and forth between Bill and Jayden, like he was trying to keep up with the plot.

 

“Sure, Jayden, you’re right,” Bill said slumping his thin shoulders. “You’re always right. We’re losers. Go ahead, rub it in. Isn’t that why you came and busted our balls right before our big meet? Just to show how superior you are?” Bill’s dishwater brown bangs fell over his eyes. He looked for all the world like a sad, bullied teen.

 

Max and Aldo appeared to be deep in concentration. They tried to rewind that chaotic rumble in the locker room before their last meet. Both of their sets of jewels had come out of it pretty rough. But try as they might, neither Max nor Aldo could not remember Jayden taking a single blow.

 

“Man, my huevos hurt so bad on Friday, I felt like I was swimming through peanut butter,” Aldo admitted.

 

“Benji couldn’t dive well either,” Max recalled, “After Jayden sucker punched him.”  

 

Feeling the heat on him, Jayden shook his head at the utter miscarriage of justice. He gave a nervous laugh at the preposterous narrative that Bill was trying to sell.

 

“Bill, you’re the one who kicked my boynuts! Along with your captain’s big balls! And now you’re lying about it, you tiny-dicked beast-wannabe!”

 

The present mood made Jayden’s aggrieved tone sound mocking in the ears of the other boys. Max and Aldo both scowled and moved behind Bill. They rubbed his skinny shoulders sympathetically.

 

“I didn’t, Jayden. I still…after all this time, I still…” Bill trailed off, evidently overcome with emotion.

 

“It’s okay, chico,” Aldo reassured him. While Max looked on sympathetically from Bill’s other side.

 

Bill sniffled and brushed the hair away from his eyes. “I still admire them, Jayden. Your boynuts.” Bill sounded like he was confessing an embarrassing secret. “I wouldn’t bust them. Not like you did to everybody else. But when you do it, it’s okay. Since they’re all so much inferior to yours.”

 

Jayden felt glares from Aldo and Max as the “inferior” teens took an eyeful of his proud package. For once he wished the red spandex didn’t show his assets off quite so well. Jayden realized one thing for certain: he was not going to talk his way out of this. Bill was somehow able to twist everything he said so it came out wrong.

 

“Look, guys, I’m sorry.” Jayden chewed his lip. “I’m not explaining this well. I should just go.”

 

“Stop.” Bill’s voice was no longer emotional, only commanding.

 

“What do you want now?”

 

“Did you mean that? You’re sorry?”

 

“Well…yeah,” Jayden answered noncommittally. Not that he would ever accept Bill’s twisted tales, but he genuinely felt bad that his friends were looking so upset.

 

“So you’ll accept your Consequences?”

 

Jayden’s chocolate brown eyes locked on Bill’s watery blue ones. This was your game, you bastard, Jayden thought. Since you could never take me yourself. He drew a deep breath and embraced fate. 

 

“Do your worst, asshole.”

 

Bill’s gloating smile looked like he’d just won the lottery. He hurried forward, no longer capable of delaying his satisfaction. While Jayden stood bravely rooted to his spot, Bill marched around him, as if inspecting and forming his plan of attack. Now and then Bill paused to pinch the tender skin of Jayden’s lean oblique’s or to run his fingers down his smooth mocha jawline.

 

Jayden growled and tossed his head. But he did not otherwise lash out against the twerp who he could have easily smashed. When Bill maneuvered around behind him and pushed his hands over Jayden’s hips, the taller jock looked stoically in the direction of his other teammates.

 

“I meant what I said, Gomez,” Bill admitted softly. “I still admire these boynuts of yours. So masculine and sturdy…” His palms slid over Jayden’s hip bones and across the sides of his speedo. Just the barest brush of his fingertips alongside Jayden’s bulging sac revealed his true intent. “But they always tend to get you into trouble.”

 

With that Bill brought his knee up from behind. The strike was masterful, since the timing was completely unexpected and the aim perfectly on target. Jayden’s balls were snugly exposed in his tight suit, packed and vulnerable to just such a blow. Jayden appeared thunderstruck. His posture was frozen, as if he hoped to hide from the pain like a rabbit hiding from a predator.

 

BAM!

 

Still holding Jayden in place from behind, Bill lifted his knee a second time between his legs. The round lump in the bright red suit proved impossible to miss. No longer frozen, Jayden’s body tried to curl over itself reflexively. But Bill moved one arm up, wrapping around Jayden’s bare chest from behind while his other hand maintained his grip on the taller boy’s hip bone.

 

BAM.

 

BAM.

 

BAM.

 

The next three blows came in rapid succession. Bill relished his control over Jayden’s posture and was determined to exploit it. Maximum damage in minimal time. His bony kneecap mushed the cute swimmer’s testicles repeatedly, flattening the soft tissue bone-against-bone. Following the fifth knee strike, Bill was breathing heavily.

 

“My fucking…nuts,” Jayden wheezed. Strikes from behind could be especially devastating, since no defense was possible. He didn’t have the presence of mind even to cup his assaulted nads. Not that it would have helped much. Jayden had collapsed backwards against the thinner boy’s chest, so that Bill ended up supporting some of his weight. Bill took advantage of their closeness to whisper behind Jayden’s ear.

 

“Can you believe that dear, loving Chase offered you up to my brother for this? Just another object that his rich ass can trade?” Bill’s voice was uneven. Like he was trying to sound sarcastic on the one hand, but that he was also deeply, genuinely offended. Like somehow even in this scenario that he’d contrived, he himself was in the right.

 

If he’d been thinking clearly, Jayden would have noted that Bill’s imagined injustice always came back around to Chase. But Jayden’s brain thrummed with the rolling waves of dull ache from his busted balls. Following Bill’s fucked up logic was not going to be possible in this state. But something Bill said stuck in his ears.

 

“Brother?…Sam Hell…?”

 

“Don’t talk about Sam!” Bill commanded, lifting his knee once more into Jayden’s suffering sac. “He’s got nothing to do with this, but you should know that Chase will sell your pathetic boynuts to the highest bidder. Even to the Devil.”

 

“Chase didn’t mean…”

 

Bill rolled his eyes. “Oh? Was it an accident? Well, since the Devilboy sadly can’t be here today, allow me to introduce you to his signature move. His finisher actually: The Jaws of Hell!”

 

Bill’s expression narrowed in concentration, and his pink tongue stuck out between his teeth. If he was being honest, Bill would have acknowledged that Sam had never actually taught him how to use the maneuver. But Bill had seen him apply the devastating ball claw to more than one unlucky guy. Whenever Sam used it, his opponent ended up crying out his submission, begging the Devilboy to let him keep his fucked nads. Bill couldn’t wait to try it.

 

But as he sized Jayden up, Bill discovered that the “Jaws” move was more difficult to imitate than he’d imagined. Keeping his grip tight on Jayden’s hip, he moved his other arm between the wrestlers’s parted legs. He plunged his hand through and cupped his nuts from below. The heavy orbs were easy to feel through the stretchy spandex pouch, and Bill marveled at the heat and humidity that radiated across his palm. Jayden was even bigger than he remembered.

 

“The Beastboy closed his merciless palm, crushing his ex-boyfriend’s proud nuts in his steel grip until he begged for mercy.”

 

That’s how Bill imagined it would happen, anyway. In reality, Jayden’s nuts were too big for his hand. So each time Bill applied pressure, either lefty or righty got loose, leaving Bill with an incomplete handful. He tried to join his other hand around Jayden’s front, wrapping around his hip, but Jayden was able to resist by pivoting his hips before Bill could clamp both hands together.

 

Bill quickly grew tired of chasing his rival’s slick nuts around inside his damp speedo. He had to satisfy himself with just half of the “Jaws of Hell,” so he bore down in anger and really put his back into it. The increased pressure had an immediate effect on Jayden, who took in a sharp breath and rose up to his tip-toes. Because even if it was just one ball, a claw hold was not an ideal place for a teen’s vulnerable organ.

 

“Bastard…” Jayden hissed, still holding his breath. “Let go of my boynut!”

 

Bill, naturally, did no such thing. He switched over to the other of the pair and gave it the same treatment. He was having a more difficult time holding on, since Jayden’s resistance was becoming more and more wild.

 

“Cheap, imitation Devilboy!” Jayden taunted, trying to get in Bill’s head for once. “Just a feeble little Beast-baby…”

 

Bill growled furiously, rummaging around for Jayden’s other ball and inadvertently causing it to tumble out the side of his speedo.

 

Jayden recognized they were in a stalemate. Bill kept weakening him, pinching his little claws into one nut or the other. And although the pressure was building up nauseatingly in Jayden’s guts, he knew Bill would not be able to break him with this hold.

 

Bill came to the same conclusion, since he released Jayden’s nether regions. Still sneaking around from behind the taller teen, Bill wrapped his arm around Jayden’s windpipe and locked on a rear choke. The skinny swimmer had recently discovered the effectiveness of certain choke holds.

 

I discovered it out of desperation when I had to protect my brother Sam when you ambushed us in the alley, Bill recalled with his customary disregard of actual events. Since that fight, he’d watched Youtube videos of different knockout techniques. He heard Jayden’s breathe wheeze and felt the rush of putting down the bigger guy. Get ready to lose, Gomez.

 

Meanwhile, Jayden panicked, feeling Bill choke off his breath. His wild brown eyes pleaded with the teens in front of him, since the one behind him was merciless.

 

All this time Max and Aldo had been watching with interest. The struggle between the stud wrestler and scrawny swimmer was something like David versus Goliath. (If Goliath had been a sexy teen with well-proportioned muscle tone, that is;) If that were not enough to spark their interest, the two teammates were well aware of the history between these two. How Bill and Jayden had dated back when Chase was their rival, and how Jayden had left Bill after falling for the study blonde swimmer. Seeing them wrestle now that so much time had passed was like watching a soap opera. A soap opera in speedos.

 

“Max…” came a hoarse voice.

 

Max’s eyes had been firmly glued below Jayden’s waist, but he looked up to find the jock’s chocolate brown eyes fixed on him.

 

“Uhm, hey,” Max answered awkwardly.

 

“Don’t you think it’s your…UGGGH…turn…?” Jayden panted. The pleading look in Jayden’s soft eyes gave Max a familiar feeling of butterflies. He nodded rapidly. Jayden raised his eyebrows as if to say: Come get it.

 

Bill felt the tap on his shoulder. His pale, pinched face whirled around at the interruption, looking like a rat when the lights turned on.

 

“My turn, bro,” Max said simply. He held out one of the black diving bricks in his hand to prove his claim.

 

Bill looked for a moment like he was going to deny it, but he reluctant released his choke hold. He stepped back from Jayden, wringing out his cramped, sweat-slicked hands.

 

I nearly had you, Gomez.

 

Released from the hold, Jayden staggered forward heaving grateful gulps of air. His bare feet slid a bit on the slick tile and he fell to his knees. He decided that was the most comfortable position anyway, curled around his queasy guts and able to gently cup his vandalized boynuts. He didn’t plan to move for a long time.

 

But this was the limit of Jayden’s calculations. Max had played the perfect cameo to break up the stalemate. But Jayden had not thought at all about what Max might do if he dropped into this bizarre RPG as a main character. As it turned out, neither had Max. He’d seldom had the chance to dish out The Consequences to the more impressive jocks. Definitely never to somebody that he (secretly) crushed on, like Jayden. Or at least used to crush on.

 

Is there such a thing as a former crush? Max wondered. He scratched his nose idly. Rex always tells me to “get over them,” but…can I?

 

Standing over Jayden, Max’s amber eyes watched the smooth muscles of the teen jock’s upper back curl and twitch as he tried to ease the pain between his legs. Somewhere inside Max’s confused, hormone-saturated brain, a light clicked on. His epiphany was in two parts:

1.     Jayden is still super, super hot.

2.     But Jayden is a guy just like me. He’s not an idol.

 

After spending the better part of the past year stammering and blushing in the presence of guys who hardly noticed him, Max’s epiphany felt like a relief. Maybe it was due to his recent experience of reciprocal interest from the new diver, Benji. Or maybe it was thanks to the recent growth spurt that had made his stretchy speedo feel a size too small. But whatever the reason, when Max looked at Jayden now, he didn’t see a sepia-toned angle. He just saw a sexy teen who had gotten himself on the wrong side of The Consequences.

 

Max knelt down next to Jayden and pulled the downed wrestler’s arm over his shoulders. He rubbed his palm over the soft skin of Jayden’s back, right between his shoulder blades. He could feel his friend relax and lean into him a bit.

 

“Thanks, Maxie,” Jayden said gratefully.

 

“For what?” Max blinked at Jayden curiously.

 

“For swatting a little mosquito off my back, bro,” Jayden said, standing up and glaring at Bill. “Felt like a nasty little bloodsucker.”

 

Bill sniffled, looking offended from behind his bangs. But he wisely kept his distance.

 

“Oops, well that’s good luck I guess. But I’m just here because it’s my turn now.” A wave of mischief rippled across Max’s amber eyes as his hand travelled the rest of the way down Jayden’s back, tracing his spine.

 

“Huh?…hoooooowowOWowOW!!!…” Jayden began to ask, but his question disappeared in a shriek of gibberish. Max had a firm grip on the back of Jayden’s speedo, which he’d yanked halfway up his friend’s back. The already tight suit stretched to the limit, packing Jayden’s junk so that the sheer spandex felt like iron on his soft bits. His one big nut that had already spilled out of the suit when Bill was working him over looked rather purplish.

 

Max had often found himself on the receiving end of wedgies from his teammates. Most often they were instigated by his brother Rex, who disliked the way Max’s juicy bulge looked in their otherwise-identical swimwear. Jayden had also been guilty of punking Max from time to time, but Max never considered retaliating against his crush. However, now some of Jayden’s mystique had fallen from Max’s eyes.

 

Hopping on his toes to avoid the worst of it, Jayden saw Max’s pink tongue peek out from between his teeth in concentration. He knew from experience that this look only meant Max was calculating something bad.

 

“Max, buddy, we’re really on the same…aaaawAWawAWawAW…”

 

Max’s other hand now held the front of Jayden’s speedo. The skimpy fabric was being stretched on both ends. In the back it had completely disappeared up Jayden’s crack, revealing his smooth mocha ass for all to enjoy. In the front, after a mere moment of resistance, a wet squelch sound released some pressure as Jayden’s left nut fell out of his suit. Now both apples hung free, with the strip of red spandex riding up and splitting his ripe fruits down the middle.

 

Max yanked up and down, up and down. Clawing his toes on the wet tile, Jayden struggled to dance along to Max’s rhythm. He caught Max’s eye, but his former admirer seemed to be immune to Jayden’s smoky look. After a couple more bounces, Max released the front of his suit, but held a snug grip on the rear. Jayden hung like broken puppet, his chest heaving.

 

Max scrunched up his face in thought. He didn’t mean to hurt Jayden, but he was having so much fun! So he pinched Jayden’s dark nipple, making his left pec flinch. Giggling, Max did the same to the right side, enjoying the little yips and reflex reactions that the studly jock made. The squeak that escaped his lips when Max reached around and pinched his bare ass made Jayden’s cheeks burn. The impish swimmer was teasing parts of Jayden’s body that were usually Off Limits to anybody except Chase. (And even then only on special occasions…)

 

For his coup de grace, Max let go of the wedgie and grabbed Jayden by the nose. Licking his fingertips, he reached down between them and delivered a comic back-and-forth slap to the pained jock’s drooping nads. The move was more goofy and embarrassing than painful. But Jayden was in for one more surprise when Max’s mouth dropped over his, stealing a deep kiss. Max’s tongue was the aggressor, and he continued bouncing Jayden’s heavy nuts in his fingertips until the teen moaned back against his mouth.

 

Finally, Max pulled back with a look of deep satisfaction, tracing his pink tongue over his bottom lip one more time. He wiped his hands to indicate “Job done.”

 

Jayden meanwhile stood frozen, just blinking. Little hot patches on his nips and ass retained lingering stinging sensations from where Max had pinched and prodded. His crotch felt raw, and he winced a little as he dislodged the speedo from his crack and, slowly, tenderly replaced his dangling nuts inside the front of his suit. He swallowed slowly. The taste on his tongue was not unpleasant, just unfamiliar. This day was already turning into more than he’d bargained for.

 

************************************************************************************

 

Chase barely tapped the brakes to slow down before flinging the newspaper out the window of his red Corvette. The paper landed somewhere behind the bushes, where it would not be discovered for a couple more weeks. But Chase didn’t bother to stop and watch its trajectory.

 

“Why does it take Jayden so long to do this?” he wondered, already speeding to the next house. His boyfriend would usually come back from his delivery route sweaty after a couple hours of pedaling, but Chase was getting it done in record time! He flung another paper and kissed his biceps. “Must be thanks to these guns,” Chase concluded.

 

“Stop! Stop you cretin!”

 

Chase slowed the Corvette, wondering if he’d delivered to the wrong address. But the shrill voice was not directed at him. He rolled forward slowly as a dispute became heated on the sidewalk. Old Man Franklin waved his cane menacingly in the face of a younger man. The young guy appeared to have been jogging, as there was a dark stain of sweat that made his ribbed tank cling to his pale chest. The jogger’s pale face was impassive, but Chase was sure he could hear the guy’s teeth grinding even over the roar of his car motor. A Cheshire cat grin spread over Chase’s face and he pulled up alongside.

 

“…young thugs think you can run through my lawn every, gosh darned minute of the…”

 

“I didn’t. Touch. Your. Lawn.” Sam Hell’s fiery red eyes smoldered, but he was trying to control himself.

 

“…like I’ve never seen a trouble maker, well I know your type! Villains! All of you!” Old Man Franklin poked his cane directly between Sam’s sweat-slicked legs, rapping his Devil’s pitchfork roughly. The Devilboy’s nostrils flared and his knuckles whitened.

 

BEEP! BEEP!

 

Just before violence could break out, the two men looked up at the red sports car.

 

“Hey, do you guys know if anybody around here still gets a dusty old newspaper?” Chase asked, twirling the paper out the car window.

 

Old Man Franklin’s eyes narrowed. “Who are you? What happened to that simple looking boy who usually delivers my paper?”

 

“Simple looking?” Chase was completely offended on Jayden’s behalf. So now he was the one needing to control his anger. With a challenging glare, he flicked the paper precisely into the bird bath in the center of the Old Man’s lawn. It went down with a soggy splash.

 

“Cretin! Villain!” Old Man Franklin limped toward Chase’s car.

 

BEEP!

 

“Hey, Devilboy! Need a lift?” Chase called. Sam glanced at the angry old man and didn’t have to think twice. In seconds he was seated in the passenger seat as the sports car peeled out under a shower of curses.

 

The two frenemies laughed and enjoyed the breeze. Then Chase scratched his head, remembering something.

 

“Shouldn’t you be…uhm…somewhere?”

 

Sam raised a black eyebrow. “Yes. I’m training, Chase. You interrupted my jog.”

 

“No, I mean with Jay…” Chase clamped his mouth shut when he saw the flame kindle in Sam’s eyes. “I mean, the bet. Today was when he…”

 

“Bet?” Sam chuckled, and his deep voice resonated in the small car. “Nobody is dumb enough to make a bet with the Devil. Not even you-know-who.”

 

The color drained from Chase’s face. He fidgeted with the steering wheel. Sam looked at him curiously.

 

“Chase…” Sam drawled slowly, “You don’t know anybody dumb enough to make a bet with the Devil, right?”

 

Chase’s usual cocky air dried up and blew out the open window. “So, if it wasn’t you…then who?”