Sore winner part 1 of 2

Heavy ballbusting

A sore loser gets even.

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Sore winner part 1 of 2

Strike!

For the 6^th time in the game, Austin’s ball rolled true and knocked down all 10 pins. Buck watched them fall with ill-disguised anger. It wasn’t that his team was losing that really enraged him, it was that they were losing to two punk-ass kids barely old enough to shave. Austin turned and high fived his team-mate in celebration, and it seemed to Buck that they were deliberately exaggerating their celebration to rub his team’s noses in it.

 

Buck stood for his last frame of the match. He and his partner were beyond catching up. All that was left was to finish the match with dignity. He drew his powerful, hairy forearm back, took aim, and launched his ball down the lane. It drifted right, started to curve in towards the centre, and bang, right in the pocket, it struck between pins 1 and 3, maybe a bit too square, but the pins were flying everywhere. He might just get away with this. The pins settled but there, at the two rear corners, pins 7 and 10 stood defiant, like two fingers raised in insult. Buck looked at the split with disgust a moment before turning to get his ball.

The two kids sat. Austin was leaning in, whispering into his partner’s ear, and it was clear to Buck that he was amused by the result. The other kid, Chase, was looking directly at Buck, and whilst there was nothing overt about the teenager’s expression, Buck was certain the kid was suppressing a goddamned smirk.

Buck looked away, he couldn’t bear to look at the fucking snot, gloating. It wasn’t as though the kid was having a stellar game – 175, but he was still 30 points clear of Buck’s pitiful score. Buck picked up his ball from the ball return and glanced at the kid again. The fucker was still watching him, looking him directly in the eye, trying to needle him. If they were in a bar and someone looked at him like that, Buck would walk over and give him a taste of his fist, but of course the kid was still a few years away from being old enough to even get into a bar, maybe more.

 

Letting high schoolers play in the league was the worst thing they had ever done. Kids as young as 16, were coming through. To Buck’s mind they were ruining the game. They had no respect or skill, but a whole lot of luck.

 

Buck looked away from the kid towards the lane. He could feel his anger in his shoulders. He knew the tension was not going to help his game, but the thought of that kid sitting there watching him, probably grinning, burned inside Buck’s brain. He launched his ball, aiming for the 10 pin with all his might. His ball rotated to the right, spinning towards the pin. His intention was to hit the pin with enough force to bounce it off the side wall and rebound it into the other pin. It was a shot that required the least luck. All he had to do was hit the pin hard enough on its left side. His ball approached, the line was good, but it started drifting right; too far. There was still a chance he could bounce the pin off the back of the pit. Then, the worst possible humiliation, the ball fell off the lane into the gutter, missing the pin entirely.

He heard one of the two kids behind him laughing openly now. He turned and Chase was looking right at him now, smirking and the other kid was all smiles and laughter. It took all of Buck’s willpower not to walk over and punch them both out. They were both slim; he could take them both with one arm tied behind his back. He clamped his teeth together, controlling his rage.

 

Now it was Chase’s turn. He stood up to take his final bowl. He was not a power bowler as Buck was, depending instead on precision and ball control. He was a lefty, so he held the ball on his left-hand side. He approached carefully.

“Fucking fag!” Buck thought, watching the boy’s careful footwork.

The boy launched his ball, and it rolled down the lane a good 30 percent slower than Buck’s had. It spun to the right striking the pins between 1 and 2. They all fell. Almost all. 7 and 10 remained. The exact same split that Buck had left. He grinned in satisfaction. The other boy groaned and Chase turned and the boys shared a laugh together. The kid wasn’t even pissed off and that robbed Buck of some of his satisfaction.

Chase collected his ball and lined up for his final shot. Buck watched him with genuine hatred now.

“Pull your pants up fag,” he hissed, looking at two inches of white underwear showing above the kid’s trousers.

His back turned, the kid pushed his trousers down an inch further and made his approach to the lane. His ball rolled slowly down the lane, spinning rapidly to the right

“Ahh way too fucking slow,” Buck said, breaking bowling etiquette, “No fucking chance.”

The ball drifted further left and it looked certain it was going to drop into the gutter just as Buck’s had.

“Fucking gutterball!” Buck said, seemingly forgetful of his own gutterball just a minute earlier.

Then the worst possible thing happened. The ball clipped pin 7 on its left side and the pin sailed perfectly to the right, striking the other pin with perfect precision. The impossible shot. The hardest possible way to pick up a 7 10 split. The play that earned the respect of ALL bowlers.

Chase walked back to the ball return. The spare had earned him one final shot. He picked up his ball and bowled it. A perfect shot – strike! All ten pins fell cleanly. His buddy whooped his approval.

The kid stood for a second, then reached back and pushed his boxers down three inches, turning so that his bare ass faced straight in Buck’s direction. Then he turned to face Buck with straight face, and blew him the briefest kiss, before turning to his partner all smiles and high fives.

 

Buck’s team mate Harley was only just fast enough to hold him back as Buck rose to his feet to go lay the kid out. Buck had never been so angry. And to make it worse, the shot meant the kids’ lead increased by 22 points on the final frame.

“Buck, he’s just a kid, let it go.”

“Fucking kid or not, I’m gonna pound his fucking face!”

“He’s just messing with ya. You called him a fag.”

“He is a fucking fag. D’you see him making kisses at me?”

“Buddy it’s just a game. Let me buy you a couple of beers. You’ll be back on form next week.”

 

Across the table, the two boys nodded.

“Thanks for the game,” Austin said.

“Well played guys,” Harley said graciously.

Buck turned his back and stormed off to the bathroom.

 

 

 

Two weeks later, at a little before 10pm, Austin and Chase were driving home from a game at the same bowling lane. They’d won their fifth consecutive match thanks primarily to a real jump in Austin’s skill. A pickup truck overtook them on the wooded road, then angled across their nose, driving them off the road on the right.

Austin pulled his Honda Civic to a stop.

“What the fuck!”

His heart was pounding. He stepped out of the vehicle ready to confront the driver of the other vehicle. Chase stepped out of his side, and they both walked forwards into the pool of light cast by their small car’s headlights.

Two men came towards them from the other vehicle. One was carrying an AR15.

“Hello faggots, recognise me?”

Austin frowned but it was Chase who spoke up.

“Yeah, the bowling match couple of weeks back.”

“Yeah. You thought you were gonna get away with being a wise ass.”

“I wasn’t being a wise ass, but you were being an ass… being rude.”

Buck stepped forwards and hit him in the stomach with the butt of his rifle.

“Still wanna talk back fucker?”

Chase doubled over coughing and gasping.

Buck nodded to his accomplice.

“Get ‘em tied Knox.”

Knox walked behind Chase and grabbed the boy’s right arm.

“What are you doing?” Chase said through wheezing gasps.

Before he could struggle, Knox kneed him hard in the thigh muscle, dropping him heavily to the pine-needle strewn grass, then he followed him down, expertly tying a rope around the teen’s wrists to his ankles. In under a minute Chase lay hogtied on the ground.

Knox turned and walked towards Austin.

“You ain’t putting no rope on me!” Austin said taking a step back.

“It’s up to you,” Buck said, waving his AR15 in the boy’s direction. “You can be tied up with your kneecaps, or I can shoot ‘em off first.”

He put a single bullet in the ground between Austin’s feet, kicking up a small plume of dirt.

“Okay, okay, Jesus Fucking Christ man!”

“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain,” Buck said.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

Knox pushed him to the ground and quickly tied him alongside Chase.

“Is this all because of the match?” Chase asked.

“Shoulda watched your mouth boy,” Buck say.

“But we hardly said a word to you all night!”

“Let’s just say I didn’t like your attitude faggot.”

“I’m not a faggot and it was just a game, that’s all.”

“Shut the fuck up. You had your chance.”

Buck kicked Chase in the stomach with a cowboy-booted foot. Chase oofed as the air was driven from his lungs.

Buck turned to Knox.

“Help me get ‘em in the back of the truck.”

Between the two of them, they lifted first Chase, then Austin onto the bed of the truck. When the boys were laying side by side, Buck pulled a canvas tarpaulin over them to hide them from passing vehicles, then he and Knox returned to the front of the truck and pulled away, leaving Austin’s Civic by the road with its doors open and its lights on.

 

The pickup drove for 15 minutes before slowing. Austin and Chase felt the road get bumpier. After a further 20 minutes, it drew to a stop. The tarpaulin was thrown back from the back and the boys looked to see where they were. They were surrounded by trees. The pickup’s lights threw a pool of light 30 feet in circumference ahead.

Knox untied their ankles, freeing them from their wrists, then one by one, the two young men were helped down from the truck.

Knox untied Chase’s wrists from behind his back, then he retied them in front. Buck watched the proceedings with his rifle trained on his captives. Knox moved to Austin.

“Don’t try nothin’ dumb,” he cautioned.

“Are you going to kill us? All over a stupid bowling match.” Chase said.

“We ain’t gonna kill you faggots. Just gonna teach you to respect your elders.”

Chase looked at Buck; the man was only seven or eight years older than he was. His accomplice was a little older.

“Look I’m sorry I flashed you okay. I was just fooling around. You were getting so pissed off. Then when you called me a fag it just seemed funny at the time. It was dumb. I never thought you were gonna take it so seriously.”

“Well I DID take it seriously motherfucker. I don’t need no punk ass brat whose balls ain’t even dropped yet disrespecting me.”

“So what are you gonna do with us?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

 

Knox guided Chase until he stood beneath an overhanging branch. He tied one end of a long rope to the rope binding the teen’s wrists then slung the other end over the branch. Leaning into it, he pulled the rope until the slender boy was lifted off his feet, tying it off on the base. Two minutes later Austin was hanging from the branch of another nearby tree.

They hung facing each other.

“So what now?” Chase asked, not wanting to know the answer, but hating the uncertainty even more.

Buck moved in front of him and undid the belt buckle that held the kid’s bowling trousers up.

“You are one skinny fuck!” he commented.

A thousand smartass replies popped into his mind but Chase suppressed the urge. This was a guy with absolutely NO sense of humour.

With a single rough tug, Buck pulled Chase’s trousers down past his thighs to his knees, allowing the kid’s boxer-clad bulge to bounce free. The man slipped Chase’s untied sneakers off, then pulled his trousers all the way off as well. Finally, he gripped the sides of Chase’s boxers and pulled them off, leaving the teenager in nothing but his shirt and miniature sneaker socks. The shirt was a Hawaiian cut team shirt. The team wasn’t big enough to be sponsored so it simply bore the team name on the back; “Pin Snipers”. There was a sniper scope logo over the name.

 

To Chase’s dismay, Buck took his trousers and sneakers back to his truck. It looked like he was hiding the evidence. But then why leave him with his shirt? Chase looked across at Austin he was naked below the waist as well. They made eye contact. Austin was usually confident and full of humour, but now he looked as scared as Chase felt.

Chase glanced at Austin’s groin. This was the first time he’d ever seen his friend’s genitals. Even scared and flaccid, Austin’s penis was longish; at least 5 inches. It was pale and floppy, like the tentacle of a dead octopus. And behind, hanging low were a heavy pair of nuts. He was not porn start big, but he’d have nothing to be embarrassed about in any locker room.

“Whatever you’re going to do,” Chase said, “you don’t have to do it to Austin. He did nothing wrong. Please let him go.”

“That’s very big of you, standing up for your boyfriend, but the way I figure it, you can enjoy this together. Call it a fucking date.”

Knox sniggered and Buck turned to his friend grinning and proud of his own verbal cleverness.

“He’s not my boyfriend. I’m straight. So’s he.”

“Whatever you say, faggot.”

 

To Buck, anyone less aggressively masculine than him was a faggot. Anyone who showed the slightest interest in culture, any music apart from rock, people who didn’t watch Fox News, people who voted Democrat, people with the wrong haircut, people who lived in California or New England, British people, and especially anyone who didn’t enjoy hunting. To him, the entire world was full of faggots.

 

He returned from the pickup carrying two bowling balls and a coil of thick cord. Each ball had a metal ring screwed into it.

“Know what these are fag?”

“Yeah, bowling balls,” Chase replied morosely.

“Yeah, bowling balls. 16 pounders, not that 14-pound shit you two fags use. Thought I’d let you feel what a real man bowls with.”

He dropped to a knee in front of Chase and tied a few loops of cord around the top of the teenager’s penis, trapping his testicles below. Then he attached the ball to the other end, allowing a foot of cord: enough for the ball to swing but still far from the ground.

Chase watched with dread.

“Ready to lose your dick fag?” Buck asked lifting the ball up past Chase’s belly button as though he was about to drop it. He threw the ball up in the air to maximise its fall distance.

“No!” Chase screamed in a panic.

Then Buck caught the ball.

“Ha ha,” he chuckled. “Not gonna do that. Then it would all be over. I want you to feel the weight.”

He lowered the ball until the cord was straight then he let it go. It dropped a further 4 inches, yanking hard on Chase’s genitals. Chase grunted and his body jerked as it reached the end of its travel. There was an immediate dull ache in his nuts and a painful stretching feeling in his scrotum. His genitals were tugged far from his body, but the rope was prevented from sliding straight off his penis by his testicles.

Chase looked down. His genitals looked pathetic. His 3-inch dick now looked even smaller. The foreskin was tugged into a snout covering the head, making his dick look like it was all foreskin. His nuts were pulled into a plump bulge beneath looking like a smaller version of the genitals on Michelangelo’s sculpture of David, which followed the Greek ideal of smaller penises.

Chase gritted his teeth and pulled his lips back in a grimace of pain. He lifted his head and looked at Buck.

“Like that do you fag? A man touching your dick?”

Chase let out an involuntary growl that had no vocal chord tone to it. Buck grinned at him and kicked the bowling ball, setting it swinging, then he turned his attention to Austin.

He looked down at the 18-year-old boy’s genitals.

“Well, well, ain’t you the stud?”

Austin stared at him silently.

“I bet you just love to swing that big ol’ salami around the locker room doncha stud?”

Austin glowered at him, giving him nothing to work with. Buck looked at him, then he grabbed the boy’s face, squeezing his cheeks roughly in a single hand.

“Don’t you fucking give me attitude boy!”

“I’m hanging here naked and you’re about to fucking torture me. What do you expect?!” Austin snarled.

Buck kneed him in the groin with no warning. Austin’s nuts jumped as the man’s knee hit them. Had they not hung so low, they would have been injured much worse, possibly crushed against his pelvis. Instead they bounced away, most of the impact dissipated by his loose scrotum.

Austin grunted and looked away from Buck’s face. Buck looked at him to ensure the boy was no longer being defiant.

“That’s more like it pussy.”

“Give me the fucking gun and we’ll see who’s the pussy,” Austin thought to himself.

Buck knelt and tied the bowling ball to the root of Austin’s penis, but this time he released it four inches higher than the lowest extent of its travel. It fell and yanked cruelly hard on Austin’s genitals. He yelped like a kicked dog and Buck look at him with a sadistic grin.

“Not go so much to say for yourself now have you boy?”

Austin looked up at him, but this time the only emotion showing in his face was pain.

Buck looked down at the teenager’s genitals. They looked just as small now as Chase’s. The rope had slid to the bottom of his penis and scrotum, and though the length of penis above the knot was much longer, the amount below was almost identical as the smaller boy.

“Huh, not so fucking big now are you?” Buck said.

He turned to Knox and sniggered. His companion looked down at Austin then sniggered back.

“Come on buddy, let’s leave these two homos together. You wanna beer?”

Chase spoke up.

“Wait! Where are you going? You said you weren’t going to kill us. If you leave us here we’re dead. How are we supposed to get untied?”

“You’re not. We’ll be back for you in the morning.”

Chase frowned.

“The morning?! Dude this ball is gonna rip my nuts off by then!”

“Nah, I don’t think so, but if it does, you ain’t gonna lose nothin’ useful fag.”

With that, Buck and Knox climbed back into the pickup, reversed carefully back until they were facing where they’d come from, then they drove away leaving Chase and Austin hanging in total darkness.

 

Austin groaned.

“My fucking nuts!”

Chase hung in silence not knowing what to say. After ten seconds of silence he settled on, “Yeah dude, that was savage.”

“Motherfucker! I’d like to shoot him in the fucking face.”

“Yeah.”

Chase thought about it a while longer.

“Dumb question, but are you okay?”

“Apart from the fact that prick just kneed my nuts into my stomach then dropped a bowling ball off them? Yeah I’m great thanks.”

“Sorry.”

More silence. This time it was Austin who spoke up.

“Nah man, I’m being a dick. Not your fault.”

“But if I hadn’t pissed him off in the first place…”

“Oh fuck that noise Chase! He was a fucking bad loser from the start, and then he called you a fag. You HAD to do something after that. And it was fucking funny. I thought he was gonna explode right there when you blew him a kiss. Ha, ha! Oh, don’t make me laugh, it hurts too much.”

They hung in silence for a while then Austin said, “Are YOU okay man?”

“My nuts are aching, but it’s not too bad I guess.”

“Yeah.”

 

They hung for an hour in silence before Chase spoke up again.

“My arms are aching. And it feels like this ball it trying to pull my dick off.”

“Me too. Right in the shoulders.”

“Yeah. You think they’re really gonna leave us here all night?”

“Yeah, no doubt. I dunno if that’s a good thing or not. Way I see it, they can hardly just let us go after this. They wouldn’t wanna risk us reporting them to the cops.”

“Oh yeah. Shit. Never thought of that.”

“I don’t suppose there’s any chance you can get free is there?”

“I already tried. I can’t bend my hands down far enough to reach the knot.”

“Nah me either. What about climbing up?”

“I’m not strong enough for that.”

“You sure? Let’s both give it a try.”

“Okay.”

 

Chase brought his hands together on the rope above his head. He couldn’t even do a single pull up, and after an hour in suspension, his strength was long gone. Nevertheless, he gave a gargantuan pull to try to lift himself. He raised his body six inches before his strength failed him and he slipped back down. The bowling ball gave his nuts a cruel yank.

“Ah!”

“You okay?” Austin asked.

“I fell down. The fucking ball yanked my nuts.”

“Sorry dude.”

“What about you, any luck?”

“Nah, the rope’s too skinny. I can’t even grip it.”

In the woods behind Austin, they heard something heavy moving around in the distance.

“Shit, what was that?! Chase asked in a low voice.

“Dunno. A bear maybe?”

“Fuck, last thing we need is to get eaten by a fucking bear.”

“Be quiet then, maybe it’ll pass.”

 

They both stopped talking, and the sound of a large animal crashing about drew closer over the next half hour until it was so close it sounded like it was right on top of them. Austin tried to control his breathing to keep quiet but he felt certain the pounding of his fearful heartbeat must be audible 50 yards away.

The noise was accompanied by a snuffling sound, as whatever it was continued moving nearby for a further half hour. Austin started to imagine an attack from the rear as a bear flayed the flesh from his back and started to eat him alive.

Then the sound slowly moved away, getting further and further until it was no longer in earshot.

 

“Fuck that was close,” Chase said.

“Yeah, I nearly shit myself. It was right on top of me.”

“That would be one way to keep it away.”

“Or help it find me,” Austin replied, with a snuffling laugh.

“Yeah.”