A Hit in the Balls

Chapter Three: Orientation

It was two weeks later and I had just arrived at the specified address—a large building just on the
outskirts of the city.  A platinum "RS" decorated the top of the building. 

I felt nervous, but I swallowed hard and walked up the steps.  When I opened the door, I stepped into a wide room with bright white walls and a sleek marble flooring.  There were quite a few people mulling around, and I wondered aimlessly for a few seconds before I found a sign ("Ballz of Steel Auditions") that directed me left, down a carpeted hallway, and through one more door.  I knew right away that this was where I was supposed to be.

There were about fifteen men standing towards the middle of the wide high-ceilinged room, all talking and laughing with a slightly nervous air. A few had already taken their shirts off, but most were wearing shorts and a T-shirt, same as me.
Towards the side of the room, a few rows of chairs were lined up and filled by some of the most gorgeous men I had ever seen, who I realized were all models I had seen on the site. Apparently, they would be watching the auditions. Robert Steel sat in the front row, legs spread wide, dressed in jeans and a flannel that clung tightly to his burly figure. He looked over at me as I walked in, smiling and raising his eyebrows expectantly. I gulped.

"Well hello there," he said, his blue eyes scanning me up and down, stopping between my legs as he blatantly eyed my bulge. I fought the urge to shield my manhood from his view as I muttered a greeting back. I couldn't help but to return the favor, eyeing the prominent mound in the crotch of his jeans.  What I wouldn't do to a bulge like his. I quickly looked away as I felt my dick rising in my shorts. His eyes came back up to meet mine, his mouth curling into a small smirk. "We'll get started in a few minutes—please, go make yourself comfortable." He nodded his head in the direction of the guys standing in the middle of the room. Taking another glance at the porn stars around him, I nodded and turned away, hesitantly approaching the other men, who were now making quite a bit of noise and seemed to have relaxed. I noticed a few of them were cupping their junk, and one appeared to be in serious pain, bent over and wheezing out profanities—"Oh you fucking dickhead... You'll wish you were never fucking born with balls, you motherfucker."

One of the shirtless guys, a muscular man with nut-brown skin and short dark hair, approached me smiling, holding his hand out. I couldn't help but notice his cock and balls flopping around beneath a loose pair of semi-transparent white shorts. He clearly wasn't wearing anything under.

"Hello, my name's Hayden," he said, firmly shaking my hand. I watched the robust muscle of his chest and biceps flex and bounce around.

"I'm Michael," I said. "Nice to—"
But I wasn't able to finish as, in one swift motion, he lashed out with his unoccupied hand and swung it up hard between my legs. I felt the tips of his fingers crash right into the center of my ballsack, hitting both nuts dead on.

I groaned, the pain spreading from balls to stomach as I grabbed my jewels and doubled over, trying to cough up the pain.

Meanwhile, the other guys, catching sight of the altercation, began to laugh uproariously, patting Hayden on the back as if to congratulate him on ending my ability to father children. It took about thirty seconds of groaning, bent over, and massaging my nuts until the pain starting to fade away, and I stood up, hands now coming to rest protectively at my crotch. I vowed to keep them there until I left the building.

"What's up newbie?" a black man wearing tight blue compression shorts and a white tank asked me as final bouts of laughter began to die out. "He didn't get you too hard down there did he?"

I groaned, but smiled nonetheless. "I can take a hell of a lot more than that."

"Oh really? You think you could take a few kicks the?" He laughed and began flexing his legs. The bulging muscles of his thighs strained against the compression shorts. His calves were corded with muscle. "I'll take that as a no," he said, laughing at my expression. "The name's Brandon."