Date: Sun, 23 Sep 2001 13:23:10 -0400 From: Joes head2 Subject: Ball Boy Pt 9 The following story is entirely fiction; any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly coincidental. This story contains descriptions of sex between consenting, adult males. If such material is prohibited in your jurisdiction, if you are under legal age, or if you are offended by such material DO NOT READ IT. The author retains all rights to this work and you may not copy or transmit it in any way except in it's entirety and with this disclaimer. Recap; Pt 1-8 College Jock Joe has a chance encounter with the sports hero of his jack off fantasies during a volunteer outing at the ballpark. Things go terribly wrong for Joe when his hero catches him masturbating in the clubhouse...Major League Baseball player Chris Stone decides it's time to test the limits of how low his new "ball boy" is willing to go.... Thanks to Chris, it doesn't take long for Joe's roommate Kevin, to figure out that Joe is a queer. Between Chris and Kevin, Joe's life begins to unravel as both men plan to dismantle his self-esteem. Chris takes the opportunity to humiliate Joe in front of the Triple A minor leaguers at the stadium, forcing the young college teen to orally service the ballplayers. As a favor to the ballpark's widowed security guard, Chris offers Joe up for even more oral service. Where we left off: "Put your uniform on now, and get the fuck out of here." Chris pushed him into the urinal as the minor leaguers howled in anticipation. Joe pulled his own shorts down and retrieved the heavily soaked jockstrap from the urine bath. Trembling, he slid the now very wet and heavy pouch up over his thighs into place on his waist. Chris, standing with his fists on waist, smiled in amusement. "And don't forget to stop by and say thank you to our buddy Jimmy on your way out." Chris walked back into the clubhouse, amazed at what a pussy the kid was. The AAA players all rolled in laughter in the shower as the watched Joe slide his shredded shorts up over the piss soaked jockstrap. They could laugh. It was their piss. Joe hung his head and walked slowly to the security office. Ball Boy Part 9 "Fucking faggot" grumbled Jimmy O'Brien at the young kid slurping away at his fat dick. He leaned further back in his chair, raised his arms and clasped his hands behind his head. He stared down at the teen in disgust. Jimmy had no use for queers, but this one was down there between his chunky thighs sucking like there was no tomorrow. Getting the occasional blow job from young cocksuckers like Joe was a benefit of the job that Jimmy was very familiar with. Over the years, lots of star-struck queers had wet his snake. Joe was no different. If anything, he was even more dick starved than most. As he watched Joe slobber over his meat, he marveled that the kid was really not much older than Jimmy's own grandson. Jimmy let out a sigh. At least his grandson wasn't a pussy like this pathetic little queer. "C'mon faggot...Suck it like you mean it..." he growled. Joe meekly looked up at the older, beefy security guard as his nose plunged deep into his bush. The smell of stale crotch sweat and dried piss swirled into his nostrils as he pumped his throat up and down on the man's thick, bulbous cock. He was a fucking faggot. Joe couldn't escape that simple fact anymore. He was on his knees sucking dick...and what's worse, he was enjoying it, a lot. It didn't even matter what he looked like. Joe's hunger for cock had now completely overtaken his rationale. Joe worked his lips up and down the older man's shaft with eagerness and desire. He wanted this man's seed. As Jimmy's eyes closed lazily, Joe inventoried the older man carefully. Jimmy's double knit security shirt was unbuttoned - his broad chest was coated with a forest of grey hair. Joe stared at the man's quarter size nipples as his head bobbed up and down dutifully. There was something very reassuring about servicing this man...It was like pleasing his coach, or his dad. A shiver ran down Joe's spine as the thought's swirled around his mind. "Yeah" Jimmy moaned "just like that...fucking work a real man's dick, queer boy..." The words pushed Joe on - it drove him to please Jimmy further. Joe didn't know why he needed to prove himself to this older man. He sucked more feverishly - plunging the now fully engorged fuckstick deep down his throat. Jimmy's thighs began to clench as Joe swallowed his knob deep. "Suck it bitch...Suck it bitch...Suck it bitch...Suck it bitch..." Jimmy moaned over and over as he pumped his bone in and out of the teen's mouth. Jimmy was getting close...his nutsack was drawing tight. His eyes still closed tight, thoughts of his grandson swirled through his mind..."That kid would never be caught dead with a prick in his mouth..." Jimmy mused as he felt his stomach muscles begin to heave. "Oh fuck!" he growled. "Drink my fucking sperm you goddamn queer!" Like a well oiled machine, Joe pumped his mouth feverishly on the older man's fat hog as the first eruption of sperm flooded his mouth. He slurped hungrily on the tongue bath of white nectar as puddle, after puddle, pumped down into his throat. Joe drank greedily until he felt the last batch of swimmers slide slowly down his throat. Jimmy rolled his head and let out a heavy sigh. "That taste good faggot?" Jimmy said, opening his eyes to see the young buck still nursing on his softening dick. Joe said all he needed to with his eyes. He enjoyed every drop. Jimmy could plainly tell the kid was a sperm addict. As he stared down in disgust for the hungry cocksucker that had just drained his vein. "You're pathetic, you know that?" he barked and reached down and pulled his cock out of the kid's mouth. The withdrawal made an obscene "plop" sound. He pushed Joe away, causing the teen to tumble back onto the floor. Jimmy stood up and repackaged his still dripping cock back into his polyester security pants. "You think cus you're swinging on ball player's dicks that it makes you special - like you're part of some secret fucking club?" Jimmy zipped up his fly in one quick gesture. "They could give a shit about you kid." He glared down at Joe. "They already know you're gonna do anything they ask..." Jimmy continued as he buttoned up his shirt. "You're just another desperate fucking cocksucking fan to them." Joe just stared up at the man, unable to speak. "Get the fuck outta here faggot!" he growled and pointed to the door. Joe scrambled to his feet and hustled to the exit. "Hey ballboy," Jimmy caught him at the door, grabbing his wrist and jerking it hard. "You ever come back here again, you make sure you stop by and check in with me." Jimmy reached down and grabbed the still semi hard bulge in his pants. "I got your ticket to the ballpark right fucking here." As Joe trotted out of the stadium gate, he could hear the howling laughter of the security guard echoing off the hard concrete walls. Once he had reached a safe distance from the ballpark, Joe turned back and stared up at the giant structure. There was a time when the sight of that stadium filled Joe with awe and excitement. Now it just reminded him of what he had become; a cock hungry faggot. He hung head in shame, turned on his heels and walked sluggishly away. Joe knew that things had gone dangerously too far now. Covered in dried sperm and now shirtless, Joe altered his return back to the dorm, consciously avoiding the busier streets. The path took him through a section of town he was unfamiliar with. Campus security had issued warnings to all students to use the "buddy system" in this neighborhood as several incidents had been reported. But Joe really had no choice. His humiliation had now superceded his fear of the unknown. He trudged on, oblivious to his surroundings; his head lowered focusing on his footsteps. As the afternoon sun began to dip, Joe could feel the urine dripping from his jockstrap and drying on his inner thighs. His torn, mesh shorts offered little disguise, the drenched pouch had seeped through the near transparent material, making his entire crotch obscenely obvious for all to see. As he traveled through the quieter neighborhood streets, Joe could feel the stares of people he encountered. Their expressions moved from shock to amusement. Joe kept his head lowered, not wanting to exchange glances. His humiliation was mounting. Passing a fenced in basketball court, Joe listened to the clatter of a game in progress and slowed his pace. The tumble of Hispanic teens, moved like graceful cheetahs on the concrete surface. Their shirtless bodies glistened with sweat, the beads shining like diamonds in the late day sun. Joe was all at once mesmerized. Joe couldn't help but to admire their lean, muscular bodies and supple movements. His eyes grazed their midsections, locking in on their ample baskets as they swayed in the loose fitting shorts. Joe mentally drooled, momentarily getting lost in the visual seduction of the Latin teens in his path. His attention was not lost on the lithesome young men. His cock began to harden as he examined their raw, masculine beauty. The very wet lump in his shorts became quickly and obscenely obvious. One by one, they detected him. From the corners of their eyes, they took witness of the pathetic looking white college boy standing frozen on the other side of the chain-link fence. The fast pace of the game began to slow, as each one of the players became aware of Joe's presence and his ravaged appearance. The young Spanish men could not help but to notice his wan, caught-in-lust expression and the conspicuous tent that had formed in his torn, wet shorts. The typical sounds of ball play slowly eroded to whispers. Evil laughter broke the new silence and snapped Joe from his trance. He watched as they gathered and stared at him. A shiver traveled down his spine as he realized that he had let his lust of these fine looking men overtake his better instincts. As they pointed to his crotch and drew closer to the fence, Joe knew that it was in his best interest to walk swiftly away. He backed away from the fence and turned in the direction of his travel. "Puto!" the tallest Spanish teen growled at him as he walked. Joe spied him from the corner of his eye, but did not look directly at him. Joe did not understand Spanish, but he saw that the teen was grabbing his crotch and quickly surmised that the word was sexual. "Puto! Puto! Puto!" came chants from all the young men as they walked sideways along the fence, matching Joe's pace. They were all now grabbing their crotches. Many of them threw mock kisses at him. "Oye Puto, chupa me la verga!" hollared one teen angrily. Joe looked over to spy the teen with his hand in his shorts, holding his meat firmly beneath the sweat coated nylon material. As he looked at the sight, a volley of spit came at him from beyond the fence. The teens were now all spitting angrily at him. Horrified, Joe hastened his pace as the fresh trails of mucous trailed down from his face. The Hispanic boys roared in laughter at his predicament. Joe did not look at them again. He couldn't. He saw their disgust. He felt nothing but shame. His increased his pace again, and launched into a slow jog. "Puto!" they screamed as he trotted. He never looked back as their taunts trailed further and further from his hearing. Joe's mind raced as he jogged away. His breath grew heavy until all he could hear was the sound of his own heart pounding. Several blocks later, Joe slowed his pace and began to walk normally once again. The sweat on his body was now just barely visible in the early evening light. He turned down a quiet dead end street that would lead him to the athletic field behind the college gym. He knew how to access the gym at night. He would take a shower and change before returning to the dorm. He looked up at the end of the street to see a clearing of woods. He was almost home. His footsteps crackled as he trounced the new bed of dried autumn leaves. He could see the security lights of the gymnasium in the distance as he traversed the rough terrain. The brush of the trees made the shortcut darker, but the path was well traveled. "Puto!" was all that he heard. The words punctured the silence of the woods. Suddenly, two men grabbed him from behind. Before he knew what had happened to him, he was blindfolded. Spanish words filled his ears as the two wrestled him to the ground. The fresh twigs and brush sliced through his skin as he struggled but his efforts were moot. The two men had quickly overpowered him. As one sat on his chest, pinning him to the ground, the other clamped his arms firmly above his head. Joe listened as they grunted, their indecipherable words scaring him even more. "Oye Puto, chupa me la verga!" spoke the man sitting on Joe's chest. He recognized the voice from the basketball court. Before he could place the voice with the face however, Joe felt the man's fingers clamping firmly on his nostrils, choking off his air supply. As he opened his mouth for air, it was very instantly filled with the Hispanic teen's cock. Joe's mind was flooded with fear and desire simultaneously as he had his first taste of the massive uncut cock. He was being raped...there was nothing he could do about it and he knew it. More horrifying to Joe, was that on some deep, inner level, he wanted it. He needed it. He sucked the teen's cock in earnest, savoring the cheesy, musty flavor of his meat. He sucked like it was his only purpose in life. In the darkness, he listened as the flurry of Hispanic insults punctured the quiet of the woods. He listened as his assailant grunted wildly above him like an animal. "Te voy hacer mi Puto!" He could feel the mounting eruption of cum as it surged from the stranger's cock. Blast after blast of sticky white cum poured down Joe's throat. He swallowed every drop as he listened to the groans of orgasm. Joe heard the obscene "plop" sound as the still hard cock was extracted from his mouth. He felt the drops of cum and saliva drool onto his face as his attacker shook his remains off. Before Joe could catch his breath, his face was smothered between the ass cheeks of the other attacker who had quickly straddled his face. "Lambame el culo, Puto!" he heard as the stranger's asslips made full contact with his mouth. Joe struggled for air as the full weight of the attacker's body ground onto his lips. He opened his mouth voluntarily, hungrily and lunged his tongue into the crusty opening. The pungency immediately filled his mouth and horrified him as he quickly realized what he was tasting. This was not a clean ass... The stranger reached down and yanked on his hair and screamed at him in Spanish. Joe's tongue went further in. Through his own shock, he lapped away, wiggling and darting his tongue feverishly while the Hispanic teen ground and swayed his hole slowly with the movements. Joe could feel his face being coated with a perverse combination of spit and ass slime, but he persevered. As the teen groaned, he licked at the teen's crack with even more energy and vigor. Suddenly, the teen's groaning took on a loud whimper. Joe knew what was happening, He lunged his tongue up into his ass as far as humanly possible and with a stiffness he didn't realize his tongue could achieve, massaged the teen's prostate. The attacked let out a holler and quickly slipped off Joe's face. A shower of cum landed squarely in Joe's partially open, shit-slime covered mouth. Then there was a sudden quiet. As the stranger lifted himself off Joe, he listened as the two Hispanic teens whispered to one another. Before he could react or move, he felt the full weight of a kick to his balls! The pain was instant, unbearable. Joe recoiled immediately into a fetal position, clutching his sack, protecting himself from further attack. The teens laughed at him loudly. "Quieres mi urina?" punctured the laughter as Joe felt the spray of piss jetting at his face. They chortled in Spanish as they drained their teen bladders on him. Joe cried quietly, his tears mixing with their golden showers. "Tomate mi urina, Puto!" commanded one of the attackers as the stream aimed right at his lips. Joe opened his mouth in submission and felt the warm fluid enter. His wet, whimpering body trembled as they finished their liquid waste on him. He listened to the sound of the attackers pulling their shorts up and then to their footsteps and laughter as they ran through the woods away from him. In the quiet of the wooded area, Joe rocked back and forth, holding his battered and bruised balls. His mind reeled from the day's events. Joe was alone, and scared. His life had been permanently changed, and he knew it. After what seemed like hours, Joe lifted himself and walked very slowly through the clearing onto the track field. In the eerie halogen flood light, he crossed the field to the gymnasium. As he popped the forgiving lock of the player's entrance door, he stepped inside the building that had become his sanctuary at college. Joe walked through the dimly lit corridors of the gymnasium and headed to the locker room. He recalled the first game he had played and walking this same path with his new team mates in college. Victorious, they patted one another's asses, through their arms around one another. This was a commradery like none other. These guys were not just Joe's friends, they were his brothers. They were a team. The bond that they had formed was based on trust and commitment. After a very difficult and painful day, Joe at last had found himself in a refuge; free from the horror of the direction his life had taken. Joe opened the door to the player's locker room and as he turned on the light switch, inhaled the intoxicating aroma of sweat. This familiar smell had become like perfume to Joe's senses. He took a deep breath and walked through the obstacle course of lockers. As he approached his own locker, he froze. Joe stared at the crudely drawn image of a set of lips sucking on a penis and then the word "FAGGOT" scribbled below it. Joe sat down on the bench, lowered his head into his hands and sobbed. To be continued.