Volunteering For Emily

This is based on a story that was posted on this sub a while ago. I liked the premise and wanted to write an expanded version. I'm having trouble finding the original right now, but if you made the original post feel free to say so in the comments.

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When I was in college, I had a friend named Emily who was a bit of an odd bird. She was a Pre-Med and Fine Art double major; her parents wanted her to be a doctor, and she wanted to be an artist: a tale as old as time. She was crazy smart, and as an artist she was into some really avante-garde stuff. I went to a number of wild gallery shows and performance pieces of hers while we were at school; I often didn't get it, but I was happy to support my friend. She was also super cute and had an absolutely stunning body. I had a big crush on her, but I never let it get in the way of our friendship.

One day during our junior year, she called me and asked if I would help her with a gallery show she was planning. She wanted to meet for coffee so she could explain it to me. I was a little nervous, because her shows got so weird and unpredictable, but I of course told her I would help if I could and met her to talk about it.

We met at a coffee shop and she explained the show to me. It was going to be a series of installations that flipped the script on the objectification of the female body in popular culture. Each piece in the show would be a different instantiation of objectifying a male body; some would involve photos and paintings, and some would involve live models. I nodded along; so far it was seeming less weird than I had imagined.

"And there's one piece in particular that I think is really important, in some ways the crux of the whole show," she said, and it seemed to me like she was trying to hide a slight nervous smile. "It will be a small room you walk into, with a low ceiling, extremely minimal, no meaningful features to latch onto, and there will be a pair of testicles hanging down from the ceiling."

"Whoa," I said, a little uncomfortably. "That's intense."

"Yeah, so," she said, smiling at me encouragingly. "That's what I'm hoping you can help me with."

I stared at her blankly. "I'm not sure I understand what you mean."

"Well," she said sheepishly. "I want you to provide the testicles."

I kept staring blankly. I couldn't imagine I was understanding her correctly. "You mean-- my testicles?"

"Yes," she said, continuing to smile.

I was taken aback. I could never have imagined that was going to be the 'help' she needed.

"I don't-- how would that even work?" I asked in consternation.

"Well, there will be a sort of table built into the ceiling that you'll lie down on, and there will be a hole in the table for you to, you know, slip through. The table will be padded so you'll be perfectly comfortable. My set designer is already working on it. And only your balls will be visible; otherwise you'll be completely anonymous. No one besides me and a couple other tech workers will ever know it was you."

"Geez, Emily, I don't know--"

"Please, Colin, this is really important to me," Emily cut me off, her beautiful eyes growing wide with eagerness. "I'm really counting on you in particular to make this happen."

"Why me in particular?" I asked with confusion.

"Well," Emily said, her face growing slightly red. "The thing is... Most guys-- you know. Most of the guys whose balls I've seen, they wouldn't really be big enough to work in this context. I mean, that's totally fine-- I don't mean to say I have any problem with that. They're great for their intended purposes. But for this show, I need a really sizable pair. Otherwise it's going to completely undermine the whole aesthetics of what I'm going for. That's why you'd be perfect for it."

I could feel my face blushing intensely. It is true that I have some rather large balls, but it was extremely embarrassing to me that Emily knew that. I wish I could tell you she acquired that information through experiences that I think back on fondly, but unfortunately it is quite the opposite.

We lived on the same floor freshman year, which is how we met and became close. Late one night, I was hanging out in her dorm room. I was dressed for bed, wearing a thin t-shirt and some extremely thin pajama bottoms, with nothing else underneath. Emily was similarly clad, in a very short pair of cotton shorts and a rather loose tank top-- no bra, as I was acutely aware. We were goofing around and laughing a lot and just generally being college freshman.

"Wait, I want to try something," she said amidst a bout of laugher. She got a stack of textbooks off her desk and handed them to me. "Here, stand up and hold these on your head," she instructed me.

"Why?" I asked, taking the books and doing as I was told before getting an answer. At the time it seemed perfectly in the spirit of the evening.

"It's a cool experiment I want to try," she said cryptically. I stood across from her, my arms raised to hold the books on my head, with a dumb smile on my face. She sort of looked me up and down with an expression of concentration.

Then, without any further word of explanation, she bent her right leg backwards at the knee, held it there for a second, and then rocketed it forward and up so that her bare foot smashed into my ballsack. If she had been punting a football it would have gone forty yards. The sheer pajama bottoms offered so little protection that I might as well have been naked. Her foot struck me dead on, absolutely racking both my balls, and I was taken by complete surprise. I immediately dropped the books and crumpled to the floor.

"Ohhhhh fuck," I moaned miserably; I could barely make sound come out of my mouth. "Oh my God. Ohhhhh. Ohhh fuck."

At first Emily looked somewhat startled at my reaction, but she quickly broke out into laugher. "Wow!" she said through a burst of giggles. "That was more effective than I imagined. I must have really gotten you!"

I remained crumpled at her feet in misery, moaning softly to myself. When enough time passed that I felt able to speak, I meekly choked out "Oh my God; why did you do that?"

"I don't know, I just thought it would be funny," she said. "Guys at my high school used to back-hand each other in the sack all the time. They seemed to think it was funny!"

"Ugh," I said miserably, rolling over onto my back, cradling my aching balls in my hands. "Even if that's true, a soft backhand is way, way different than a super hard kick."

"Oh," Emily said neutrally. "I guess I didn't realize that."

She crouched down next to me on the floor. "Are you all right?" she asked. "Maybe I should take a look at you to make sure everything's okay."

My heart skipped a beat hearing those words. "I really don't think that's necessary," I mumbled.

"No, Colin, come on," she said. "I'm studying to be a doctor. I should check on you." I didn't think that made much sense considering we were only freshman, but I wasn't in much of a state to argue with her. She reached for my pajama bottoms and started to pull them down, and even though a large part of me felt enormously trepidatious, I nevertheless raised my butt in the air to help her get my pants off.

She pulled the pajamas off from around my ankles and took a good hard look at my lower half. "Whoa," she said, taking my balls in her hand. "Oh my God, Colin; these are huge!"

"Uhh, thanks," I said, feeling an incredibly confusing combination of emotions.

"Wow, I have never seen balls this big before," she said, still holding mine in her hand and looking at them in wonder. I didn't know what to say and kept silent. I was not very sexually experienced at that time, and I was wondering to myself how many pairs of balls Emily had seen at all, and under what circumstances.

"Man, I wish my friends could see this," she said, her eyes still locked on my package. She had pretty much immediately dropped the pretense of "checking that I was okay" as soon as my pants had come down. I, on the other hand, was lying there with my balls in a girl's hand for more or less the first time in my life, and even though there was still some lingering pain from being kicked, I was becoming extremely aroused. My dick started growing, and pretty soon it was fully hard.

"Oh wow, look at that," Emily said, noticing my erection. With one hand still cupping my balls, she reached out with her other hand and started to absentmindedly stroke two fingers up and down the exposed underside of my cock. Her touch was very light, just grazing my taut skin, and it almost seemed like she didn't even realize she was doing it. It was the most amazing thing I had ever felt. I tried to remain completely still, fearing that any reaction from me would break the spell, but soon I couldn't control myself anymore and let out a soft moan of pleasure.

As I had feared, it seemed to snap Emily out of some sort of trance. She took her eyes off my dick and looked at me, as if she had just realized I was there. She let out a little gasp. "Oh my God! Colin!" she said, "That's gross!" She pulled her hand back and then quickly slapped my naked balls, rather hard.

"Ah!" I cried out, a sharp pain exploding from my jewels. I curled my legs up but her hands prevented me from covering myself.

"Haha," she laughed. "I think you were right that it's funnier when you hit someone with your hands instead of kicking." I barely had a moment to reflect that that was not at all what I had said when she reached underneath my curled-up legs and slapped my balls again, at least as hard as the first time.

"Ohhhhhhh," I cried out in agony, still unable to move or shelter myself because of the way she was holding me.

She laughed again. "Wow, I must really be connecting," she said. She took my balls in her hand again, but just held them gently in her fingers. Even so, I had become terrified of her touch. "I can't believe you were getting turned on!" she said with exasperation. "I wouldn't have hit you if you didn't startle me, dummy."

"Sorry," I said meekly, still frozen in place by her hand holding my sack.

"It's okay," she said, while shifting my balls to her other hand. "I think you'll be fine, maybe just sore for a bit. Man, what a pair you've got. I had no idea."

I continued to lie on her floor recovering, and we talked for a while longer, until eventually I got up, put my pajamas back on, and went back to my dorm room. As time went by I would think about that night periodically, but neither of us ever really brought it up. The whole thing was pretty out of character of our friendship, and by now I had pretty much chalked it up to one of those weird things that happens when you go to college.

So it was rather jolting to be suddenly reminded of the embarrassing reason that Emily knew exactly what my balls-- not to mention a whole lot of the rest of me-- looked like. I could feel that my face was beet red sitting across from her at the coffee shop.

"Oh," I said nervously. "So what you're saying is, if I don't agree to do it, your whole show is kind of ruined?"

"Well," Emily said, weighing the question with her expression, "I don't necessarily want to put that kind of pressure on you, but... I do think it's fair to say that."

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. "Geez, Emily. You know of course I want to help you. But it just seems...." I trailed off.

She looked at my with intense sincerity in her eyes. "I know it's not a small favor, Colin," she said gently. "But I would be really, really grateful if you would do this for me. I would really owe you. And I would be perfectly happy to make it up to you, in some way that seemed appropriate," she said with a meaningful look.

I genuinely had no idea if this was meant to have sexual undertones. In the moment I was so flabbergasted by the whole thing that it seemed to be a perfectly 50/50 chance. But I was already leaning towards saying yes, and just the thought of Emily potentially "making it up to me," pushed me over the edge. "Okay," I told her. "I'll do it."

Her face beamed with gratitude. "Colin!" she exclaimed. "That is so wonderful! Thank you so much. You're really going to make the show."

"I'm happy to," I said, which was not exactly true.

"There's just one more thing I want to make sure you understand," she told me. "Everything about the show is supposed to be completely interactive. Attendees will be at liberty to engage a tactile experience with any of the exhibits. And that will include your, you know, parts."

"You mean, they can touch me?" I asked uncertainly.

"Yes. But I wouldn't worry too much about that part. Honestly, although you never really know, I'm expecting that most patrons will be too shy or hesitant to actually engage with most of the exhibits, let alone yours. Plus, the show only admits women, so that should make it a lot easier for you."

"It should?" I asked.

"Well, I assume you don't want a bunch of other guys touching your balls, right?"

I considered it. "I guess you're right."

"We'll be in touch as we get closer to opening night. Thank you so much for doing this! I think it's really going to be a great experience for everyone," Emily said as she started getting up to leave.

"Yeah, I think so too," I said for lack of another response.

We left the coffee shop and she gave me a hug outside. Then we parted ways to go to class. It was not lost on me that she only mentioned the part about "attendees at liberty to engage a tactile experience" after I had already said yes.

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The night of Emily's show, I was feeling extremely nervous. I got to the gallery early and waited a few minutes for Emily to notice I was there as she scrambled around making preparations. I eventually caught her eye and she came up to me accompanied by a very cute female tech assistant dressed in all black.

"Colin! I'm so glad you're here!" Emily called out, rushing in to give me a hug. She introduced me to the tech, whose name I instantly forgot from nerves. "This is Colin," she explained. "He's going to be the feature in Room 8."

The tech smiled at me knowingly. "Nice to meet you," she said.

I followed the two of them to a space in the back of the gallery-- it wasn't quite a room, because it only had three walls, but otherwise it was just like Emily had described: a small, empty space with a very low ceiling, one that you could easily reach up and touch with your hand, even if you weren't very tall.

"Okay, Colin, this will be your exhibit," Emily explained. "There's a ladder around the other side of the wall where you'll climb up, and a pad for you to lie down on, and you'll see the hole where you, you know, insert yourself." The tech assistant smiled at me as Emily talked.

I looked up at the ceiling, The opening was extremely small; in fact, it was hardly even visible from where we were standing.

"Uh," I stammered uncomfortably, "doesn't the hole seem a little... tight?"

Emily nodded. "Yes, it's supposed to be like that. This way it will look very neat, no messy edges. You can't really see it from here, but there's actually a rubber membrane around the edge to kind of keep you secured in place. It might be a bit of a squeeze getting in initially, but once you're set up I think you'll be quite comfortable."

I shifted uneasily from foot to foot. "Okay," I said.

"Great. We've still got some time before the show opens, but you should get set up now. We'll give you some privacy to get ready," Emily said, nodding at her assistant. "Just leave your clothes on the floor here, and I'll come back to get them in a few minutes and put them in the green room."

"Okay, sounds good," I said, starting to untie my shoes.

"Oh, and Colin, one more thing," Emily said, turning back to me on her way out. "I just want to remind you that's it's really crucial for the piece that you don't react in any way regardless of what any of the guests say or do. No sounds, no discernible movements; it should really be like you aren't there at all. That's really important."

"Right, yes, I can do that," I said, projecting confidence.

Emily smiled at me. "Awesome!" she said. "We'll let you get ready, and I'll be back soon for your clothes."

The two of them left and I started to get undressed. Soon I was standing in the empty white gallery space completely naked. I looked around; even though there was no one else there, it felt very odd to be naked in a public space. I walked around to the back wall where the ladder was and climbed up.

On the other side of the ceiling it was much as Emily described. I lay down on a sort of mattress pad and found it was actually quite comfortable. There was even a space hollowed out in the pad for my penis so that it wouldn't get squished. That seemed remarkably thoughtful. From this side I could see the rubber membrane around the opening that Emily had described. I had to hold it open with my hand in order to fit my balls through. Even so it was a rather tight squeeze, and I winced as my boys just barely made it in. When I let go of the rubber, it closed snuggly around my sack, holding me firmly in place and preventing me from moving very much even if I had wanted to. At first I was a little thrown off by how tightly the plastic was gripping me, but after a minute I got used to it and, as Emily had said, it wasn't uncomfortable.

Soon I heard Emily come back into the room. I felt my face get hot as I was now super aware of how on display my testicles were, but I told myself I had to quickly get over the self-consciousness, since this would be the whole thrust of the night.

"Yay! You look great!" an invisible Emily called up to me from below the thin ceiling. I sensed her stop right below me and examine me more closely. "Hmm, they're not displayed quite right. Do you mind if I rearrange you?" she asked.

"Okay, sure," I said, gulping a little bit. I felt Emily's hand reach out and grip my balls, tugging them down a bit away from the rubber holding them in place, and then fussing with them back and forth so that they were displayed in accordance with her artistic vision. The contact was stimulating, and I felt my penis starting to stir, but I concentrated hard on staying composed; in theory, this kind of thing could go on all night, and it was my job to remain calm throughout.

"Okay, great, I think that's perfect," she said as she let go of me. "The show opens in about fifteen minutes, so just relax until then. And remember, you can't react to any of the patrons no matter what."

"Right," I agreed. "I got it."

"Awesome. Okay Colin, I'm gonna take your clothes to the green room, and then I've got some more preparations to make. But I'll be in and out throughout the night. Not that you'll be able to see me. But I'll be able to see you! Well, part of you anyway."

Emily left with my clothes and I was left with my thoughts. It occurred to me that it actually wasn't necessary to get completely naked for this; I really only needed to take my pants off. But I had only followed instructions and it didn't make much difference now. As I lay there waiting for the show to start, I unexpectedly felt very calm and peaceful. The pad I was lying on was actually quite comfortable; it was almost like being in bed. The feeling of the cool gallery air circulating on my naked ballsack was a novel and not unpleasant sensation.

I was snapped out of my reverie by the sound of voices entering the gallery. The show had opened. I knew from having gone to Emily's previous shows that the attendees were going to be nearly all other students who went to our college; in this case only the girls, since the show was only open to them. My heartbeat started to quicken at the thought of being on display for all the cute girls I saw in classes and around campus. I'd almost certainly know some of them, although they wouldn't know it was me, and I wouldn't know it was them unless I recognized their voices. The sounds of talking were still out in the front of the gallery, and no one had made it back to my exhibit yet, but I knew it was only a matter of time.

Slowly people started to trickle in. I couldn't see any of them, I could only hear what they said. Almost everyone who came into my exhibit expressed some kind of shock or surprise. Even though Emily had predicted the girls would be too shy, it wasn't long until some of them started to touch me. I had been mentally preparing myself to make sure I didn't react in any way if and when they did.

I heard two girls walk into the exhibit together. "Oh my God!" one of them exclaimed.

"Wow," said her friend. "That is awesome."

"Geez, look at these," the first one said. I could tell that they were standing directly underneath me, "These are some truly beautiful balls."

"Oh my God, Megan! That's so weird!" her friend cried out laughing.

"Boy. I wish my boyfriend had balls like this," Megan said. Hearing their conversation was exhilarating. "Is it weird that I'm getting a little turned on?"

"Well, the whole point of the show is objectifying the male body," her friend said. "So I guess you're doing something right." They stood silently for a moment, staring at my babymakers, I imagine. "You know you can touch them if you want to," said the one whose name I didn't know. "The whole show is interactive, remember?"

"Oh my God, Amber, you're right!" Megan yelled. I felt her hand reach out and cup my balls. A shiver ran down my spine, and I focused on not reacting in any way. "Oh, they're warm," Megan said. She started to gently fondle them, like she was weighing them. "They really should have his cock out too. Then you could really have some fun. Huge missed opportunity," Megan said, rolling my balls in her hand. I bit down on my lip.

"Okay you horny girl, let's keep moving to the next exhibit," Amber called to her while walking on, her voice getting further away. Megan let go of my balls. I thought she would go and I could rest easy-- for the moment at least-- but then I sensed her shift underneath me. She got up on her tiptoes and slowly ran her tongue along the underside of my sack. I was caught completely off guard and had to muster everything in me to not make a sound. As she left the exhibit, I heard Megan breathing heavily, like she was super turned on.

Girls came and went, commenting and sometimes copping a feel. Only a little time had passed in the show but I was starting to feel like I was settling in. Emily was running around the gallery, and I would periodically hear her in the room underneath me, chit-chating with guests, talking about various pieces and answering questions. At one point while she was in the room, two girls walked in.

"Holy shit!" one of them cried out. "Check this one out!"

"I hope you guys are enjoying the show," Emily said to them professionally.

"We sure are, especially now," the same girl said. It seemed like she was the one who did the talking out of the two of them. "Wait, so we can touch these, like everything else in the show?"

"Yep!" Emily replied happily. "You sure can."

The girl grabbed my balls somewhat roughly. I grimaced but made sure to not make any noise. "Damn, they're just hanging here," the girl said, letting go. I breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

They stood there contemplating the 'piece,' as it were, for a few moments. "Can we hit them?" the girl asked Emily.

My heart skipped a beat. I was completely at Emily's mercy, having no power to intervene in any way. I could tell that she was hesitating and a little bit uncomfortable. "Well..." she said uneasily. "We don't exactly encourage it, but I guess it isn't strictly speaking against the rules." My heart sank.

I heard the girl laugh. "Haha, that's awesome," she said. Then I felt her fist slam into my completely unprotected balls. It was a devastating hit; the rubber held my balls firmly in place, so that they couldn't swing with the blow to deflect any energy, and they were pressed out tautly at the end of my sack, so that they had no chance of escaping direct impact. An awful pain racked my body. In the short moment after I had heard Emily say that it was okay to hit my balls, I had steeled myself in preparation, putting both my hands over my mouth, and it was only via an immense power of will that I managed to avoid making any sound. Despite the tremendous pain, I was a little proud of myself for keeping it together.

"Huh," the girl said below me. "That's weird. Are these somehow not real balls? Like are they not attached to a real boy?" she asked.

"Uh, no, they are," Emily replied uncertainly. "What do you mean?"

"Well he didn't even make a sound," the girl said. "I've hit my brother's balls that hard before, and he was positively shrieking."

"Oh," Emily said. "Well, the model is instructed to not respond to any interactions from the viewer."

The girl laughed loudly. "Oh my God. So you're saying we can stand here hitting his balls as hard as we want, and he won't react to it in any way? That is so funny!"

"Well..." Emily said with the same hesitation in her voice. "That's not exactly, like, the point of the piece, but if that's how you choose to engage with it then, yeah, I suppose that's a valid interaction."

I was listening to this conversation and panicking. I was still in a lot of pain from that first fist, and I quickly realized that I probably needed to prepare myself for more.

"Wow, that's amazing!" the girl said. "We should see if it holds up."

Suddenly the second girl spoke for the first time. "Alex," she said-- so now I knew the name of my tormenter-- "you should try hitting more from behind; the bottoms of the balls are the most sensitive part, so if you get them from an angle where you're mostly catching it from the bottom, it'll be a lot more effective."

Fuck! Did they really need to be trading advice on how to make it even worse?

"Wow, no shit, is that really a thing?" Alex asked.

"Yeah," the other girl replied. "My brother was once being super dumb and lowered his balls over my face while he thought I was asleep on the couch. I gave him a nice little sack tap, and even though I only hit him medium hard, he was fucking devastated. When he could talk again he explained to me that it was because I got him right on the bottoms of his nuts, and that's where it's the worst."

"Damn, I never knew that," Alex said. "All right, I'll try it."

I had a brief moment to brace myself before Alex's fist came pummeling into my balls, this time aimed more from behind so that it cut across the whole bottom of both my testicles, as her friend had suggested. As promised it was a whole new kind of pain, brighter and more urgent, nearly unbearable. It took an unfathomable power of will to avoid crying out in agony, but somehow I managed it.

"Huh," Alex said. "You know the thing is, when there's no reaction, there's no way to know how good you got them."

Holy Hell, you got them good, I wanted to yell, but of course I didn't.

"Here, Sam, you try," Alex said, and I heard her step aside as the other girl replace her underneath my utterly vulnerable testicles. I felt a punch, hard and fast, that made my eyes water, and then another, and another. They came quick and precise, with a targeted efficiency that made me think she was not a novice at this. The pain was indescribable. Somewhere in the back of my mind I had the thought that I needed to escape and save my balls; but it wasn't really possible-- the rubber lining the hole squeezed me so tight that it would have been a huge ordeal to get out. I was essentially trapped. Plus I knew that bailing would ruin Emily's show, and I really didn't want to do that. I was going to have to tough it out one way or another. At the very least, the more consistent hits made it easier to control the urge to cry out after each one.

"It's like doing a boxing workout at the gym," Sam said in between punches.

"You know the thing is, I think it's less fun without any reaction," Alex said.

"I don't know," Sam replied. "I think it's just a different kind of fun," and launched another wicked hard fist into my sack.

"Well guys," Emily said; I had completely forgotten that she had been there the whole time. "We do want to keep people moving through the exhibits. We have a great crowd tonight and a lot of people want to get to see everything. You can always circle back at the end to any pieces that you particularly enjoyed." She might have thought that she was rescuing me a little bit, but it was essentially too little too late.

More girls came in and out of the exhibit as the pain slowly dissipated. A few more of them reached up to fondle me, which aided in the recovery process a bit. After a while I started to feel better and more relaxed; I had become more used to the situation and was therefore more comfortable.

I heard two girls come into the space below me; it seemed like a lot of them were walking through the gallery in pairs. "Well what do you we have here?" one of them said. Then with no warning I felt her hand fly into my balls. I was totally unprepared and had kind of lapsed into a false sense of security, and before I could stop myself I let out a small yelp. "Fuck," I muttered under my breath. I really hoped Emily wasn't near to hear that.

"I guess he felt that," said the girl who had hit me.

Her friend was laughing hysterically. "Oh my God, Morgan!" she choked out through laughter. "You're such a bitch!"

They moved on to the next gallery; to them my balls had been just a minor amusement. I started to relax again, feeling like I was in the clear, when I heard Emily come into the empty room below me.

"Colin! What the fuck!" she called up to me in an angry stage whisper. "You're not supposed to make any noises!"

"I'm sorry, Emily; I couldn't help--" I started to say, but she cut me off.

"No!" she whispered angrily "No talking!" And then she slapped my balls incredibly hard.

I gasped. "Ohh! Fuck!" Her hand had made a stunning impact on my vulnerable babymakers. It felt awful.

"Colin, stop!" she whisper-yelled, and she slapped my sack again, just as hard. A loud "smack" echoed in the reverberant gallery. It hurt so badly.

"Ohhhh," I cried out, moaning in agony. "Ohh God." I wasn't thinking particularly clearly, but I suppose I assumed that because only Emily was there at the moment, it wasn't as crucial to avoid making sounds, since I wouldn't be undermining the show for any actual patrons. In a twisted way, it was almost a relief to get my balls hit and be free to cry out in pain. But Emily was not happy about it.

"Oh my God. How are you not getting this?" she said with exasperation, making a fist and punching up into my trapped balls almost as hard as she could. By now I had put both my hands over my mouth, trying to suppress any noises, but the punch had come with more force than her slaps, and despite my best efforts a slight high-pitched squeal escaped from my mouth.

"Colin," Emily said threateningly. "You have to get it together." She punched me again. This time-- intentionally or not, I'm not sure-- her fist caught more of the bottom side of my balls, making it the most painful hit yet. Even though I was in unbearable agony, I mustered everything I had to make sure I was kept completely silent.

"There we go. Good boy," Emily said, patting my balls. It seemed like if we had been standing next to each other she would have patted my shoulder or arm, but since only my balls were exposed, that was her only option. Even though it was only a few gentle taps, I had been made so sore by her previous strikes that it caused a fair amount of pain; but of course I kept silent about it.

From that point on I made absolutely sure that I didn't make a sound no matter what happened on the other side of the ceiling. Girls kept streaming in throughout the night. Most of them would talk excitedly about my balls, often comparing them to their boyfriends and other guys they had seen naked. It seemed like the attendees grew a little bolder as the night went on, with more of them starting to use their hands. I took a fair number of additional hits; sometimes it would be telegraphed that they were coming from the conversation happening below, and sometimes they took me by complete surprise. It seemed like for a certain subset of girls, when they saw a random pair of naked testicles in front of them, it was a no-brainer that they should give them a good whack. There was also one girl who took hold of my nads and squeezed them hard for what must have been at least a full sixty seconds-- that was pretty terrifying, as I had no idea when it would end, and it took a ton of mental energy to keep silent the whole time.

Eventually, after several hours, the show started to wind down as the guests thinned out. Soon it seemed to be more or less empty, judging by the lack of sounds coming from the gallery. I wasn't sure what to do, so I just stayed where I was and waited for instructions.

After a little while Emily came into the room. "Okay Colin, that's a wrap on tonight!" she said, gently tapping my balls, as if to get my attention. "You did an amazing job! I'm so happy with how the whole thing went. You can come down now."

"Okay," I said. I began to work on extracting myself from the rubber holding me in place. It was very difficult; it had been much easier to get them in than to get them out. Eventually I realized that I was just going to have to brace myself and yank them out. Doing so was even more painful than I expected, probably because my balls were incredibly sore from all the abuse they had taken over the last few hours.

I climbed down the ladder and nervously came around the back wall into the gallery, still completely naked. Emily was waiting for me with a big smile on her face. "Um, do you have my clothes?" I asked sheepishly.

"Oh! Right! Let me try to find what I did with those. You can just stay here and I'll bring them to you."

"Okay," I said, rubbing the back of my neck. Emily went off and I waited in the exhibit space. I looked at my balls, which I had not been able to see the whole time. They were somewhat red, but they didn't seem too much the worse for wear.

I heard a noise coming around the corner and looked up to see the cute tech assistant whose name I had forgotten, accompanied by another female tech who I hadn't seen before. They were going through the various exhibits and breaking down the sets. When the girl whose name I had forgotten saw that I was standing there without any clothes on, a slight blush came into her face, but she gave me a big smile. "Oh, hey. Colin, right?" they both unapologetically looked my body up and down.

"Uh, yeah, hi," I said skittishly.

"Don't mind us, we're just cleaning up," she said. She started dismantling the set but the other girl just stood there, staring at me.

"Hey, Kayla, come on, we've got work to do," the first one said.

"Sorry," Kayla said, blushing. She got to work but addressed me without making eye contact. "Um, I hope you don't mind me saying this, but you, um... you look really great."

"Oh. Uh. Thank you," I said. It was a very odd position to be naked in front of two girls I didn't know and have them obviously checking me out. Emily was taking an awfully long time finding my clothes, and I didn't know what to do except stay where I was while the two tech assistants broke down the set around me.

After what felt like forever, Emily came back with my clothes. "Sorry about that-- I forgot where I put them for a minute. Oh, everyone's here," she said, coming around the corner and looking around.

I started putting my clothes back on and listened while Emily talked to me.

"Colin, thank you so much. You really made the show, just like I knew you would. And you did a great job, besides one little hiccup." She smiled tightly. "I'm so glad that this worked out."

"Yeah, I'm glad I could help," I said. I was a little thrown off by the fact that Emily was not in any way acknowledging how much the girls attending had racked my balls, which had definitely not been in the job description. But I was much too embarrassed about it to bring it up myself.

"So I'll make sure to keep you updated about the schedule," Emily said. "We're putting the show on at another college a couple towns over in a couple weeks; we don't have the exact date nailed down yet, but I'll let you know as soon as we do."

I felt like there was a rock in my throat upon hearing those words. "Oh. We're... there are more of these?" I asked.

"Yep. I was a little nervous scheduling so many before we had even staged the first one, but now that I know how well you fit the role that I was most worried about filling, I feel so much more confident about continuing to stage the show."

"Oh. Okay," I said meekly. I wasn't nearly brave enough to tell Emily that I didn't want to do it again, especially seeing how genuinely excited she was with how the show had gone tonight. "I guess just let me know when you know any future dates."

"I will for sure!" Emily beamed. "I've got to keep wrapping things up here, but I don't want to keep you. We should get lunch sometime soon."

"Okay, yeah," I said. I awkwardly waved on my way out of the gallery as the three girls were running around cleaning up. On the way home I stopped at a pharmacy and bought an ice pack; I definitely needed it tonight, and it sounded as if I would probably need it in the future, too.