The Show Must Go On

John critically went over his appearance in the dingy dressing room mirror backstage. He had slicked his longish brown hair back rockabilly style, a free lock falling over his blue eyes. He was tall and lean, wearing a black shirt unbuttoned and jeans cuffed over his big, black boots. His jeans hung low, his hip bones and hard lower abdominal muscles visible above his garishly-buckled belt, and were very tight, drawing plenty of attention to his considerable bulge.

He smiled approvingly at himself in the mirror, imagining the adoring eyes of female fans that would soon behold him. He fantasized briefly about the possibility of slipping away with one of the women after the show. After all, if Roxanne wouldn't fuck him...

Roxanne appeared as if summoned by his thoughts. She was also dressed to impress for the show and John hungrily took her in. Long legs in black boots and tattered fishnets, denim cut offs that didn't quite cover her round, pert ass, a mesh top pulled over a black bra, showing off her ample cleavage and slim midriff. She had wild black hair and was harshly made up, full mouth in red lipstick and heavily lined eyes.

"You look fucking great, babe," he said, but his feeling were mixed. He was proud that he had landed a woman like her, but incredibly frustrated at the fact that they hadn't had sex in the entire two-week run of their tour so far. He also thought of their considerable male audience and felt a little jealous of them all drooling over her scantily clad body.

"You look pretty good yourself," Rox said, smiling. She approached him and began running her hands over his firm chest and stomach. She kissed him and reached one hand down to grip his package through the thin fabric of his worn jeans. John moaned into her mouth, cupping his hands underneath her ass, but caught himself and broke the kiss.

"Don't get me worked up again," he said, irritated, moving away from her. She had a tendency to kiss and grope him, flash her incredible body, do all kinds of tantalizing things to get him excited throughout the day and then refuse sex, citing the close proximity of the other guys in the band on their tour bus. The constant teasing and ultimate denial was starting to drive John a little crazy.

"Listen," she said, placating, "I know I've been neglecting you lately, but I have a surprise for you. I got us a hotel room for the night." Her hand traveled below his belt again, rubbing his growing cock through the fabric.

"Really?" John asked hopefully.

"Really. No tour bus, no Billy and DJ. Just us. I'll make it all up to you."

John grinned and kissed her again, pulling her body against his and pressing his erection into her. "You better," he said, and returned to the mirror to remove the red lipstick that was now smeared all over his face.

...

"You will not believe the women in this crowd tonight, man," Billy said, grinning lewdly, speaking quietly to John so Roxanne wouldn't overhear as they were putting on their instruments. "There's a blonde right in front of your spot on stage." He held his hands out in front of his chest to demonstrate her assets. "I'm so fucking jealous of the view you'll have all night."

John grimaced. Roxanne was sure to notice if he was ogling some girl throughout the show, and he wasn't trying to do anything to hurt his chances with her that night. He needed sex so badly. But, as he took his place on stage and began to play, it was proving hard to ignore the young blonde woman located directly in front of and below him. She had a beautiful face, smiling up at him dreamily, and a pair of huge tits, obviously braless in her low-cut white t-shirt. Her dancing along with the music caused them to jiggle and bounce, hypnotizing John in his sex-starved state. He became so enamored with her attention that he didn't notice Roxanne's occasional scowling sidelong glances from where she was singing at center stage.

John played bass, and the bulge in his pants that he was so proud of was obscured by his low-slung instrument. Wanting to give the blonde woman a nice view of it, he stepped to the edge of the stage in front of her and propped one foot up on a speaker, displaying his crotch directly in front of and above her. The woman grinned and put her hands on the stage, pushing herself up to get even closer to him. John thought she may be about to flash him her tits, or perhaps reach out and touch him. Instead, she drove one fist up into his balls as hard as she possibly could. His tight jeans held them firmly in place, so when her fist connected directly with his right testicle, she crushed it against his thigh, briefly smashing it flat and driving her knuckles deeply into its meat.

John stared in disbelief a the woman for a moment, her face excited and expectant, before the pain exploded in his testicle and quickly spread into his abdomen. His hands faltered, the rest of the band looking over as he flubbed notes and slowly sank to his knees. Some people in the crowd made an aghast sound, but many laughed. Billy went over to check on him and helped him back up to his feet. Roxanne only glared until he resumed playing, weakly, his face still creased with pain. His eyes questioned the smiling blonde but she looked as flirty as ever, baffling him. He avoided going anywhere near her again. He got through the rest of the show, his right testicle throbbing with every drum beat.

...

John hobbled to the dressing room after the show, undoing his belt and unzipping his tight jeans, sighing in relief as some pressure was immediately taken off his swollen right nut. He nervously lowered his pants to look at the damage, and cringed. His right testicle was bright red and twice the size of his left. He wondered if the injury would affect him getting laid that night, and thought of Roxanne's tendency to play with his balls when they had sex, sometimes not quite gently enough.

Roxanne once again entered as his thoughts turned to her. "Awwwww," she said, "Poor baby. Are they very hurt?" She pushed his jeans the rest of the way down and cupped his balls gently in her hands.

"I think it's okay," John said uncomfortably, but Rox's hands were already moving to his cock, quickly stroking him hard.

She kissed him passionately and said, "I can’t wait, I want you right here." She dropped to her knees and began to suck his cock. The overwhelming pleasure of her mouth and the need for sexual release pushed the pain from John's mind immediately. Roxie gave incredible head, her tongue flicking on his most sensitive area, just below his frenulum, her hands gently caressing his balls.

"Oh, Rox," John moaned, "If you don't stop I won't even get to fuck you. You're going to make me cum..."

She moaned "Mmmhmmm," on his cock and he felt his orgasm approach quickly.

"You want me to? Are you going to swallow my cum?"

She gave him another enthusiastic moan, and he hovered for a moment on the edge, just about to cum, but suddenly her hands on his balls were gripping a little too tightly for comfort.

"Um, Rox, could you lighten up on my balls just a little? I can't-" His words were cut off when she squeezed them hard, digging her fingers into their flesh. He screamed and she pulled her mouth off his cock, looking up at him with fury in her eyes.

"Do you think I didn't see you eyeballing that little whore all night?" She asked, squeezing and twisting his testicles.

"Oh god, Rox," John managed to stammer. "Please stop, I'm sorry!"

"You're going to be fucking sorry!" She said, squeezing even harder. All the strength went out of John's legs and he barely held himself up by gripping her shoulders as she worked his balls. The pain in his sore right nut as she clamped down on it was beyond his comprehension, and it felt like she was trying to twist the left one off of his body.

"Please, Rox," he said, his voice cracking, "You're going to break them! Please don't pop my balls!"

"Pathetic," she spat and finally released them. John collapsed immediately, cradling his balls and crying. "You're sleeping on the bus, by the way," Roxie said as she left.

...

After a night of miserable half sleep, John woke up knowing something was very wrong with his testicles. He had the expected aching soreness in his swollen right nut, but his left felt like it was on the wrong end of a hard kick, continuously. He lifted the sheet off his naked body and moaned at the hideous appearance of his sack.

"Um, Billy?" He called his bandmate's name, humiliated but helpless and frantic with pain and worry for his balls. "Could you take a look at something, man?" Billy pulled himself out of his bunk blinking sleepily. John pulled the sheets off of his groin and was not reassured by Billy's gasp.

"Jesus, man! What the fuck happened to you?"

John's left nut was so deeply red it was nearly purple, and was grotesquely swollen. "What do I do?"

"You need to see a doctor, man. I'll get the bus driver to take us."

...

Within an hour, John waited in a room in a urologist's office, the pain in his left testicle even sharper. To his dismay, when someone finally entered the room and introduced themself as "Dr. Wright," it was a beautiful redheaded woman in her mid-thirties, wearing a wrap dress under her white coat.

She looked at his chart and said, "Okay, Mr. Jones. Let's have a look at the problem, shall we?"

Embarrassed, John undid his belt and lowered his pants. He could have sworn he saw a smirk cross the doctor's face at his lack of underwear.

"Oh, dear," she said, and quickly put some latex gloves on. She kneeled down and began to gently inspect his testicles while asking him questions about what had happened and his pain level. John answered, unable to help looking down her dress to ogle her cleavage from his vantage point.

"I'm sorry to say, Mr. Jones, but this is very serious. Your left testicle is in torsion, and there's a serious threat you're going to lose it."

"Oh god," John said, panicked. "Can't you do something?"

"Yes... Normally we would correct torsion with surgery, but it's far too late for that." She opened the door and stuck her head out into the hallway. "Jerry?" She called, "I need your help with something." A huge orderly entered the room. "Please hold Mr. Jones still for me with his arms at his sides."

John gaped at the doctor as the big man gripped him. "What's going on?"

"I'm going to have to attempt a manual detorsion," said Dr. Wright, kneeling in front of him once again. "The success rate is far lower than with surgery, and I'm afraid it's going to be quite painful. I can't have you moving around."

The color drained from John's face and he started to sweat. "Can't you give me something for the pain?"

"I'm afraid there's just not time for it," the doctor said, and placed her hand firmly around his left testicle, causing John to cry out. "Take a deep breath, and try to stay calm. One way or another, this will be over soon," she instructed. She wrenched his testicle hard to the left. John screamed in agony, struggling against the man holding him still. She repeated the excruciating maneuver and explored the area with her fingers again.

"Hmm," the doctor said. "Once more I'm afraid." She gave his testicle another sharp twist. The pain was unbearable, but moments later the pressure seemed to disperse considerably in John's testicle. His balls still ached miserably, but the sharp, deep pain began to fade. Jerry released him and the doctor helped John shakily lie down.

"I think it went well," she said, smiling. "Your testicle will live to see another day."

"Thank you, Doctor," John said, miserable but relieved.

"I'm going to let you recover for a little while," she said. "But you'll still need a thorough exam to assess any other damage. Those appear to have taken quite a beating."

John wasn't eager for more contact with his balls but he nodded agreement, his eyes on Dr. Wright's long legs and shapely hips as she left for the time being.

...

After about 30 minutes, Dr. Wright led John to a different room and instructed him to undress completely. He tried to do so confidently in front of the beautiful woman. After all, he looked good naked. But any swagger he managed to muster failed when he was then directed to lie down on a medical table and put his feet up in its metal stirrups. Humiliated by the notion, he asked, "Is this really necessary? I'm feeling a lot better."

"We really need to conduct a proper examination to ensure all your parts will continue to function correctly," she insisted, rubbing his arm a little. He complied but was a little startled when she strapped his legs into the stirrups and secured his torso to the table.

"This won't hurt, will it?" He asked, trying not to sound afraid.

"You can let me or my trainee know if you experience anything more than mild discomfort," she said. She spread his legs, allowing his ball sack to dangle freely between them, at eye level with anyone seated in front of them.

"Trainee?" John asked, dreading having someone else see him in this position.

"Yes, I have a medical student who will be leading the exam with my instruction. Here she is now. "

Great, John thought, another woman. He looked up to see a buxom blonde bounce into the room. A fresh wave of fear dawned on him as he realized it was the same stacked blonde that had punched his nut in at the concert the night before.

"No!" He practically shouted, struggling against the straps holding him down. "Doctor, don't let that girl touch me! She's the reason I'm here in the first place!"

Dr. Wright looked confused. "I'm not sure what you mean, Mr. Jones? Brittany is medical student. She's quite experienced and capable of doing this procedure."

"She punched me straight in the balls!"

"Brittany?" The doctor looked to her student, who was dressed in form-fitting scrubs and had her blonde hair in pigtails.

Brittany looked at her in wide-eyed innocence. "I don't know what he's talking about, Doc. I've never seen this man before."

"Mr. Jones,” Dr. Wright said, “ Your injuries are not consistent with a single punch. I think you might be a little tired from your procedure earlier. I assure you, I won't let anything happen to you. I really must insist you cooperate with the examination."

"Okay," John said nervously, seeing no other option. Surely, the doctor would keep him safe from this crazy woman, who winked at him over her shoulder.

Brittany put on latex gloves, making John flinch as she snapped them. She sat on a stool between his legs. The doctor addressed John, saying "We are first going to perform a visual inspection, looking for any lacerations and noting all bruises and irregularities."

Brittany gently held his sack and brought her face so close to his balls John could feel her warm breath on them. She gently turned his testicles this way and that, effectively caressing them. Mortified, John felt himself begin to grow aroused.

"Uh, Doc?" Brittany said, giggling and pointing at his hardening cock.

"Nothing unusual," Dr. Wright said, sounding un-phased. "I'll make sure it stays out of your way." She wrapped her gloved hand firmly around his erection and held it against his abdomen, making John gasp. He was very conscious that it had been weeks since a woman touched him, now two incredibly sexy women were touching him intimately, at the same time.

As Brittany continued inspecting him, noting each millimeter of discoloration, Dr. Wright unconsciously made subtle movements with her hand, sliding up or down ever so slightly or squeezing a tiny bit. The little bit of stimulation to John's neglected cock combined with the attention Brittany was paying to his balls began to push him toward orgasm.

"Um, Dr..." he began.

"Please be patient, Mr. Jones. We're almost finished with this portion of the procedure," she said without looking at him. She removed the hand wrapped around his cock to point something out to Brittany, sliding up the length of it. When she put her hand back on his throbbing cock, her thumb brushed the sensitive spot underneath his frenulum. It sent John over the edge and he spurted cum, moaning, on his torso, desperately trying to rub his cock against Dr. Wright's hand.

Brittany giggled. "Oh my gosh, Doctor, he came!"

Dr. Wright maintained her professionalism but looked a little bemused. "Oh... so he did. Well, let's get him cleaned up and carry on." Brittany got some paper towels and mopped the cum off of his torso as he panted. John was embarrassed but at least felt a little less sexually frustrated, as pathetic as the circumstances of his release had been.

"Okay," Dr. Wright said, getting re-oriented. "Now we'll need to feel each testicle thoroughly to make sure there's been no serious tissue damage. This can be just a little uncomfortable. Go ahead, Brittany." Brittany pressed her fingers deeply into the flesh of his battered right nut, making John scream.

"Brittany, we've talked about this many times," Dr. Wright scolded gently. "That's far too firm."

"Sorry, Doc," she said and loosened her grip slightly. She used both hands to explore his right testicle, then moved on to his left. "Doc," she said, "What do you think of this spot, right here?" She pushed it for emphasis, making John's body jerk against his restraints. "Is this a rupture?"

"Let me check," the doctor said, taking Brittany's place on the stool. She probed his left testicle in the same spot as John wailed. "It's intact still, just a very deep tissue bruise. I don't think we're improving it by pressing on it so much!" The women laughed. "Well, Mr. Jones. I think you're all set. You're a very lucky man. You have two functioning, intact testicles that are going to heal just fine soon. You'll just need to refrain from ejaculating- again, I mean, for two weeks."

"I can't... what? For how long?" John asked, aghast.

"You would seriously risk doing further damage to your testicles if you were to ejaculate in the next two weeks while they heal," she repeated. "You wouldn't want to end up back here, would you?" She gave his sore balls a little pat to emphasize her point and John nodded quickly.

"Okay, then! I'll let Brittany finish up with you and send you on your way." She walked out while John tried to protest.

As soon as the door closed, Brittany turned toward him, a wicked smile on her face. She spread his legs even further apart and resumed sitting between them. "Your girlfriend really worked you over, huh?" She said, admiring his swollen, bruising balls. "She looked like the type."

"Why did you hit me?" John asked.

She sighed. "I really wasn't planning on it, but gosh you just made it so tempting putting them in my face like that. I couldn't resist." She lightly groped his balls, dreamily reminiscing. "To be honest with you, there's lot of things I can't resist. Like doing this." She punched his left nut, making his sack swing back. When it swung forward again, she punched his right one.

John sputtered and struggled against his restraints. "You can't do this!" He yelled, his voice cracking as she gradually increased the speed and intensity of her punches, using his ball sack like a speedbag.

Brittany laughed. "With you strapped into this? I can do whatever I want," she said, stopping the swing of his balls by gripping them hard, making him scream again. "I can do this to if I want." She grabbed his cock and began to stroke him.

John's body struggled to process the sudden swell of pleasure through his pain. "You can... You can do that," he said, his eyes rolling back.

"I know," she said, standing up. "And if I want, I can throat your big cock, too. Well, I can try. Let's see if I can do it." She worked his cock deep into her throat and began to bob on it, John moaning now in ecstasy. She slid her mouth off him and began to strip off her scrub pants and lacy panties. "I can even ride you, if I really want to." She climbed up on the table and lowered her pussy onto his throbbing cock, gasping as he stretched her. "Jesus," she said, her eyes glazed with pleasure as she bounced on him, momentarily forgetting her snarky attitude. "Your cock feels so good," she moaned.

John was in disbelief as this turn of events, and he struggled to free his hands from his restraints. As much as he was enjoying finally feeling pussy on his cock, seeing Brittany's enormous tits bounce under the confines of her shirt was torture, he wanted to see and touch them more than anything. Brittany increased her tempo as she approached orgasm. John felt her pussy tighten on him and she moaned in pleasure as she came. John was on the edge of orgasm himself but she lifted her pussy off of him quickly.

"What the fuck?" He asked, his cock throbbing in the air.

"You heard the Doc," Brittany said, getting dressed again. "No ejaculating."

"Fuck," John said, "It's too late, I'm going to cum."

Brittany grinned. "Allow me to help you with that." She slammed her foot hard into his balls, smashing them flat against the underside of the table. John screamed soundlessly, his eyes bugging. Brittany unstrapped his legs and arms and proceeded to leave the room, saying, "By the way, I'll see you at your show tonight. I'm your biggest fan, you know."

...

That night, after icing his aching, swollen balls for hours, John found himself in another run-down dressing room of another venue in the next town over, trying to cram his oversized nuts into his tight jeans. If nothing else, he thought to himself, at least he had managed to avoid Roxanne all day despite sharing a bus.

Of course, at this thought she sidled into the room. She twirled, showing off her outfit for him. “Very nice,” he said but was only annoyed by how hot she looked, today wearing a black crop top, tartan skirt which failed to cover her ass, and thigh high stockings with garters.

She sighed at his tone. “Listen, I came to apologize. Billy told me about what happened at the doctor’s and I feel terrible. I just lost it, man. I went way too far.” She stepped toward him, rolling her hips, and reached for his crotch. “I’ll make it up to you.”

John shoved her hand away. “Not for two weeks you won’t,” he said angrily.

“Yeahhhh,” Roxie said. “Billy told me about that too. But John, I’m so horny… Help me out?” She pouted.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” John shouted, furious. “I’ve been desperate for a lay for weeks and now you need dick all of a sudden? After you almost fucking castrate me?”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’m sure I’ll find a guy at the show tonight that would be willing to fuck me.” She turned to leave but John, struck with a lightning bolt of possessiveness at these words, grabbed her and turned her to face him. After a moments consideration he turned her around again and bent her over, hiking her skirt up and pushing her panties aside. He freed his cock, hard in an instant by the sight of Roxie’s bare pussy, and pushed it into her.

“Oh god, yes,” Roxie moaned as John fucked her, trying to ignore the ache in his balls as they swung and slapped against her ass. “Get me off…” Unfortunately, John was ready to get off significantly before she was. Roxie felt his rhythm start to falter, his cock twitching inside her. She reached between both of their legs and gave his balls a light slap.

"Oh, fuck, Rox," John groaned. It was a technique she often used, along with light squeezes or a little pulling, to delay his orgasm. "You can't do that today, these things are killing me."

"Sorry, babe," she said, "But I'm doing it for you! You could lose them if you cum, right? We wouldn't want that..." John didn't see how abusing his balls could be any better for them, but he continued to pound her, subject to more slaps, squeezes and tugs whenever his orgasm approached. After she finally came, her pussy tight around his cock, she demanded another orgasm.

After she came again, they finally parted, both exhausted, Roxie satisfied and John more sore and frustrated than ever. "Thanks, stud," she said, smiling and fixing her panties and skirt. "See you on stage."

...

"That girl is back," Billy said as they were preparing to walk out on stage.

"Shit," John said. Every step and movement with his swollen balls trapped in his tight jeans was painful. He was certain his nuts wouldn't survive another hard blow. Sure enough, Brittany was in the front row, directly in front of him when he took the stage. Today she had on a black crop top so small that a significant portion of her huge breasts was visible hanging out of the bottom of it.

John quickly averted his eyes from this spectacle, as difficult as that was, and was careful to not go anywhere near her and to keep his bass in front of his sore package like armor. The show went on with John not at his usual energy, focused on getting through it without injury. After the last song, as John was about to walk off stage, Brittany called his name. When he looked over, she lifted her shirt up, finally exposing her enormous breasts. She bounced on her heels a little. For just a moment, John was transfixed by her jiggling tits and her small pink nipples. He felt himself start to get hard, making his pants even tighter, and forced his gaze away and stalked offstage.

John began to quickly pack up his equipment backstage, wanting to leave the venue and nurse his aching balls as soon as possible. He hoped Roxie was through with him for the night, and had not noticed his ogling. He flinched as he heard her voice behind him.

"Hey, John?" She said, "I brought someone to meet you. She says she's your biggest fan." He wheeled around to see scowling Roxie, mic still in hand, and Brittany beside her.

John backed away but the women followed, Brittany saying, "You did so good tonight! I just wanted you to know, I took some time off so that I could follow you guys on the rest of your tour." She smiled sweetly. "So you're going to be seeing a lot of me. By the way," she leaned toward him, lowering her voice to a whisper that Roxie could still obviously hear. "Once you're all healed up, I'd love to ride your big cock again. Like earlier?"

"Oh, god," John said, terrified. "Rox-" She slammed her microphone up into the visible bulge of his testicles, the hard metal crushing them against his body. He fell to the ground, holding his bashed nuts and groaning. Roxie kicked his hands aside and stepped on his agonized balls with her heavy black boot.

"Please," he managed to whimper, trying helplessly to pry her foot up as she ground his nuts against his body, "I'm sorry, please stop..." He looked up and saw Brittany watching, smiling down at his anguish. Roxie made a disgusted sound and lifted her boot off him, only to bring it down once more in a final, hard stomp, briefly flattening his nuts against his pelvis.

John rolled on the ground. "Oh, my fucking balls," he moaned, delirious with pain. A small concerned crowd had started to gather around him, the rest of his band and some crew members. Brittany stepped forward up to him,

"Don't worry everyone!" She said, kneeling down between his legs and beginning to undo his belt and take his pants down. "I'm studying to be a doctor. I'll make sure he's okay."

"Oh, Jesus," John said, "Please, no..."

"John," Roxie scolded. "Let her do her job." She looked thoughtful and addressed Brittany. "Actually, since you're planning to follow us anyway, why don't you just join us for the tour, on the bus? I'm afraid John might be having a lot more problems like this in the next several weeks. He could really use a professional around to look after him."

"Oh, fuck," John said weakly, as Brittany wrapped her hands around his swollen, throbbing balls.

She smiled. "That would be my pleasure."


...........


Just a note: I kinda based this off a real band and even have an almost appropriate picture of John and "Roxie." If you're curious, I can send it via chat.