Date: Sun, 08 Jul 2001 17:15:44 -0400
From: Joes head2 <joeshead2@hotmail.com>
Subject: BallBoy Part 7

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.

Comments appreciated!

Recap; Pt 1-6
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.


Where we left off in Part 6:

Joe stood and pulled the shorts back on. The lining now gone, the mesh was
all but invisible. The newly formed slits up the sides allowed the material
to drift liberally away from his lean body, concealing very little. Joe's
hard cock tented the material obscenely. He stared down at himself in
horror.

"C'mon, I want you to meet my buddies from Triple A." Chris purred, and
grabbed Joe's wrist. Joe involuntarily followed Chris from the trainer's
office into the adjoining clubhouse. As Chris walked into the locker room,
with Joe in tow, the cadre of young minor league players looked up at
admiringly their mentor. Chris made no attempt to disguise the lipstick kiss
placed squarely on his bulging jock. Joe could not conceal his obscenely
painted lips.

"Gentlemen!" He boomed. "This is our ballboy for the afternoon. You will
discover..." he paused for effect, "He is very good at handling balls..."

Joe hung his head in shame.


Ball Boy Part 7

It didn't take long for the young athletes to connect the obvious, hideous
dot between the marking on Chris's jock pouch to Joe's garishly painted red
lips. The casual air of the clubhouse grew tense and quiet as each of the
guys allowed their stares to travel between Joe's face and Chris's crotch.
The usual scuttlebutt of locker room banter was muffled. The AAA ballplayers
were clearly caught off guard.

"Our little ballboy here," Chris placed his hand on Joe's shoulder and
gripped it firmly. "Will be taking care of us real good today." He squeezed
Joe's shoulder, reached down and cupped his jockpouch and winked at the
group. "Won't you?"

"Yes sir." Joe moaned as he meekly scanned the room. Six guys sat around the
clubhouse, in various states of undress. Joe couldn't help but to notice
that they were all very attractive, and most of them not much older than
him. His eyes bounced around the symphony of semi-nude men, careful not to
look directly into anyone's eyes. He could feel the stares and slowly, he
began to hear the snickers and the whispers. His cock stirred making the
loose fabric of his dance for the audience.

"Go get the equipment ballboy," Chris spoke firmly and pushed Joe backward,
causing him to stumble and fall. As he scrambled to gain balance, he became
aware of the gaping stares; his cock and balls were completely exposed! His
legs splayed open, his manhood had fallen from the meager confines of his
shorts. A quiet gasp in the room was quickly replaced with laughter. Joe
quickly stood back up and hustled to the equipment room.

Joe choked back his emotions as he gathered the bats for practice. He wasn't
sure why Chris was doing this to him. His world was turning upside down.
This shouldn't be happening. In a little more than 24 hours, he had turned
from being an aspiring professional athlete to a pathetic cocksucker - and
there was seemingly no end in sight. What was perhaps the most jarring to
Joe, was that on some deep, inner level, he was actually enjoying it.

He shuddered as the acceptance of his circumstances became clear. Joe
grabbed an armful of bats and walked briskly through the clubhouse to the
field. As he passed the young athletes, Joe was barraged by a series of
catcalls, whistles and mock kisses. His face turned bright crimson as he
hastened his pace. As the door slammed behind him, he could hear the roars
of laughter. Joe knew they were laughing at him.

The Sunday afternoon sun was burning bright on the field. Joe wished that he
had a shirt on, his fair skin would surely not survive long without burning.
He dutifully lined the bats up behind the on deck circle and then waited for
the players to take the field in the dugout.

With Chris in the lead, the ballplayers trotted through the dugout onto the
field - each of them eyeing Joe with a mischievous, almost sinister
expression. Joe stared at them with envy. These guys had it made. They were
on their way to super-stardom. Each one of them possessed all the standard
baseball player attributes: bulging thighs, broad chests, massive forearms
and sleeve busting biceps. In a lust-lorn daze, Joe gaped at their beefy,
bubble butts as they tossed practice grounders to each other in the infield.
He watched as their sinewy bodies moved gracefully, their powerful muscles
stretching through their tight uniforms. This exact trance had played itself
out over and over for Joe, mentally mapping the curves and bulges of
ballplayers. Joe could never reconcile his fascination with baseball
players, he just knew that he wanted to be near them.

And now, his cock twitched as he watched Chris tossing the ball. There was
no doubt in Joe's mind that he would do anything for the man. He worshipped
him. Joe sat idly in the dugout, shirtless, wearing lipstick and studied his
hero on the field. Chris moved like an animal in the wild - his muscles
rolling and ripping with every motion. Joe's eyes could not leave the subtle
lines of his compression shorts, the telltale designation of jock straps,
the unmistakable crotch mound. He was mesmerized. All he could think of was
the next opportunity he would have to please, to serve him.

"Hey!" Chris snapped his finger at Joe, snapping him from his daydream. "Get
out there on the field and start shagging ballboy." He pointed to center
field and gestured for Joe to hustle. Joe grabbed a glove and trotted out to
deep center. As he ran, he became acutely aware of the effects that Chris's
modifications had on his shorts. The material swayed freely, giving the
impression that Joe was wearing a skirt! The players stood at the batting
cage and chortled at his humiliating predicament. Chris grabbed his crotch,
pleased with his handiwork.

The players took their turn at bat and Chris coached them on their stance,
their swing, and their pitch selection. As they swatted at the balls, Joe
ran them down. Their hits went all over the field and Joe ran frantically to
catch them. As he ran, his nutbag and dick flopped out freely from his
shorts. The obscene sight of a young, college, freshmen jogging with his
manhood swinging in the breeze was not unnoticed by the ballplayers and they
took great pleasure in alternating their hits from left field to right
field, forcing him to run the furthest distance possible between each hit.

As he ran down the hits, Chris would yell from home plate; "Faster ballboy!
You're gonna have to work harder for our balls!" The lurid insult was always
followed by a gaggle of laughter as the AAA players grabbed their crotches
and whistled at Joe. Joe tried to mask his humiliation with an increased
effort in fielding, but he could not escape the intense embarrassment of the
situation. He was not sure what, if anything, Chris had said to these guys -
but he was absolutely certain that they were clearly enjoying his
humiliation.

Two hours later, the batting practice ended. Joe trotted around the warning
track gathering the last of the stray balls as the players piled off the
field and headed to the clubhouse. Joe's body was completely covered in
sweat. He could feel the new sunburn on his skin. Chris remained in the
shade of the dugout, watching Joe closely from behind the safety of mirrored
sunglasses.
He sat on the bench, his thighs spread wide, his hands suggestively cupping
his crotch. Joe walked to the dugout, carrying the fishnet bag filled with
baseballs.

"C'mere." Chris barked. Joe involuntarily edged closer to Chris. "Closer.
Stand here between my thighs..." Joe did as he was told. Chris massaged his
crotch with steady, practiced strokes. The mask of mirrored glasses gave Joe
no indication of what Chris was thinking.

"You're a handsome young fucker, you know that?" Chris spoke softly, a
slight tone of flattery in his voice.

"Thank you sir." Joe was taken off guard by his softening, but deeply,
deeply honored by the compliment.

"Show me that dick..." Chris growled. Joe looked around suddenly very
self-consciously.

"Here?" Joe gasped.

"Yeah. Here." Chris curled his fingers around a noticeably growing bulge.
"It's just you and me...No one will see. I promise." Slowly, Chris brought
his fingers up to the tab on his fly and tugged it. C'mon ballboy, show me
what you got."

Joe hooked his thumbs into the elastic waistband of his shorts and tugged
the front down, hooking it under his sack. Chris smiled a big smile as he
inspected Joe's pint sized cock. He unzipped the fly of his tight uniform
and slid his fingers in. Joe stared down at his fingers and felt the blood
beginning to rush into his cock.

"That as big as it gets?" Chris's voice trailed with a condescending
disappointment.

"It grows when it gets hard." Joe stammered as life began to stir in his
loins.

"Let's see." Chris sat up straight and leaned forward to Joe's cock. "Show
me how big that little pud gets. Jack it for me." Chris licked his lips
obscenely.

Joe reached down and wrapped his fingers around his semi hard cock and began
to massage it. Below him, Chris peeled the flaps of his uniform to the
sides, exposing his jock strap. As Joe slow jacked his cock inches away from
Chris's face, Chris unbuttoned his shirt allowing a full view of his broad,
hairy chest.
Joe's cock grew quickly to its full firm length of 5 inches; precum drooled
from the tip as he watched Chris pull his jockstrap waistband away from his
taught abs.

"Nice." Chris purred. "You have a little boy dick..." He reached into his
jockstrap and began knuckling his thickening shaft. Joe stared at the
shadows of Chris's fingers and began stroking his cock in earnest. He could
not believe that his hero was actually getting off on him! "Jack it harder
ballboy - just like you were doing in the equipment room...Put on a nice
show for me!"

Joe fisted his prick like a preteen - his hand moving faster and faster, his
arm muscles aching form the effort. Chris stared closely and rubbed his cock
in his jockstrap. "Yeah little buddy - fuckin whack that mini-meat!" Chris
roared.

The heat that Joe felt was intense - he could hardly believe what was
happening. Here in the dugout, he was stroking his meat in front of the
baseball stud of his dreams and fantasies, and he was coaching him on! He
felt his nuts begin to draw up, his cock was hard as steel. His knees began
to shake.

"I'm gonna cum sir!" Joe squealed.

"No! Not yet!" Joe grabbed his hand and jerked it away firmly. "They'll be
plenty of time for that later." He stared at Joe's cock - blood engorged,
inflamed and throbbing. Chris grinned. He tucked his thumbs into Joe's
shorts, pulled them away from under Joe's nuts and slid them back up to
Joe's waist. He smoothed the fabric around Joe's tented shorts and flicked
his finger at the tip. A quarter sized wet spot oozed through the mesh.
"Perfect." He mused.

Joe's heart pounded - pulled from the peak of orgasm, his head spun. He
watched as Chris zipped up his fly and buttoned his shirt. He was suddenly
confused and definitely frustrated.

"We better get cleaned up and go somewhere more private." Chris patted his
mound "Grab the bats and balls, let's head to the clubhouse." Joe stared
down at his shorts - his unforgiving hardon had tented it in a very obvious
manner. As embarrassing as it was, he was somehow caught up in the lust of
the moment - of the promise of being closer to Chris later on. He grabbed
the bats and balls and followed Chris through the tunnel to the clubhouse.

As they neared the door, Chris turned around to face Joe. He reached down
and grabbed Joe's cock and tugged at his boner through the slimy mesh
shorts.

"Oh yeah," he spoke through a grin. "I made a little bet with the AAA guys -
I bet them that you'd pop wood in the clubhouse once you saw them bareassed.
If I win, they each pay me $50 bucks and you suck them all off. If I lose, I
pay them each $50 bucks." He jerked on Joe's throbbing hardon. "Looks like
I'm gonna win cocksucker." He laughed low. "I hope you're hungry!"

Chris opened the door to the clubhouse and pushed Joe into the room.


To be continued

Comments welcome!