Acting -- another racking

A few hours later, I was standing in the food line with another guard, Tom, when Ms. Sullivan and her friend appeared behind us.

“Fuck,” I thought, and covered my crotch.  She noticed immediately.

“Oh, that’s him!” her friend said, clearly delighted.  She must’ve heard the story.

“How are they doing?” Ms. Sullivan, looking down at my hand.

“Still feeling it,” I said.  To Tom I added, “She nailed me in the nuts.”

“It was an accident,” Ms. Sullivan lied.

“Dude!” Tom laughed, looking at me.  “I wish I had seen…”

There was a thwack, and Tom’s head shot back.  His eyes went wide and his face morphed into expression of a guy who had just been racked.

“I got him!” Ms. Sullivan bragged as Tom collapsed immediately to the ground. He started writhing in pain, as his hands clutched his nuts.

“Bro…” I said crouching next to him. “You okay?”

I then felt a hand try to shove its way between my legs from behind.  I squeezed my legs together instinctively and twisted away.

“No, no,” I yelled, as I tried to escape from the fresh sack attack. I was managing to keep my nuts out of her grasp when I got pushed by someone else.  My guard went down for an instant, and I felt a hand tighten around my nutsack.

For a moment she just held it.

“Please don’t,” I begged, hoping she would not squeeze.

She did.

“Uggghh,” I moaned.  My hands went to her hands, but her grip was too tight for me to pry them off. 

I heard Ms. Sullivan laughing, and realized it must be her friend who was behind me, squeezing my balls.

“My fucking nuts,” I cried out, trying to communicate how much she was hurting me, hoping she’d show some mercy.

Instead, the friend squeezed harder, and then relented to "pumping" my balls -- squeeze hard, let up, squeeze hard, let up. I felt dizy.

Ms. Sullivan then yelled “Pull them!”

“No, no, no,” I heard myself begging.

She pulled and I frantically used the little strength I had left to push off the ground with my legs and arms, fearful I'd lose my balls.

She finally let go, and I collapsed next to Tom.

Ms. Sullivan had her phone out, taking pictures of us down on the dirt. 

I started heaving.  “Stop being so dramatic,” Ms. Sullivan commanded.

“I’m not,” I croaked, both hands covering my nuts, my entire body in pain.