Balls

Jerry’s balls, to be precise.

It all started on Saturday night. Fallen threw a party at his place since his parents were away, and most of the gang were there. There was some booze and weed, and a lot of loud music. But the highlight of the night was when most of the guests had left and only the one’s sleeping over were left. RealSkullZero was rolling up the last few joints while Fallen and his brother were cooking dinner, at 2am, and we were all gathered at the table blabbering like most stoners do. Jerry was the main contributor, and he wouldn’t stop talking.

He was drunk, and loud. And he wouldn’t stop talking about balls.

None of us can really remember what he was saying since we were all pretty intoxicated, on one thing or the other, but we were all laughing our asses off at whatever it was he was saying. Maybe he didn’t realize what he was talking about, maybe he was finally coming out of the closet and revealing his secret love for all things circular. At one point Dinna brought up something about Jerry holding onto a pair of balls, and then it zooms out to show us Jerry with a cow. “I love you”, Jerry says. “Moo”, says the cow.

Even more hilarious was when someone commented on Fallen being dressed in black, and Jerry had to add that Fallen sometimes “comes in a burst of white”. TMI, would be an understatement.

Good fun though, it was. And no one will forget Jerry’s balls.

Saved!

Finally!

After 2 months of suffering beneath the bed of the Unsilent, I have been rescued. He came in bursting through the door, kicking it in to find the Unsilent enjoying a quiet wank whilst watching gay porn on hotmale.com, and swiftly dove under the bed to find me and rescue me, deftly avoiding all the wet tissues and fagmags, he is my hero. He is St. Fallen.

I’m now here at his place, using his pc for the first time, it’s… so… white! My nonexistent eyes squint at the screen. I think I may be going blind. Maybe it was all those Godforsaken days and nights spend in the darkness of Unsilent’s bed. I feel happy now, though I can’t see a thing. It’s a good thing I learnt how to touch-type.

Tomorrow the guys will be taking me to Buba after what seems like eons, but first I need a good pumping. St. Fallen will be taking me to the bike repair kadey to get me blown. Unsilent didn’t seem to grasp the concept of blowing balls. Blowing cocks though, especially his own pet cock, he is a master at. Master Bater, they call him.

Oh tomorrow, you seem so close yet so far away.
Bu…
Ba…

The Hike

They’re leaving me out again, heading to the hills this time to explore the Knuckles range and violate some cave. Sigh…

I feel so left out, at least Unsilent doesn’t leave me out in the garden to lose air and be pecked and sat on by birds and squirrels. I’m going to try look on the bright side, as impossible as it may be from underneath the darkness of his bed.

For one, I don’t have to deal with Jerry manhandling me. And I don’t need to squint at PapareBoy to get past his horrible hair. Also, I don’t have to worry about The Whackster stealing all the female attention from me. Not that I get any attention, let alone female, under here.

Once in a while someone comes by to sweep Unsilent’s room. She doesn’t bend over, so I never see her face. She hums some tune as she sweeps the floor, and I choke on the dust, dying slowly of asthma. Who am I kidding, balls can’t have asthma.

Dying slowly.

*cough*

I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!!1

This cannot go on. I can’t live like this. No ball should ever have to suffer as I have. I have been here for weeks, molding beneath the bed of the unsilent, suffocating, choking on the excrement of this world. What have I done to deserve this? Nothing! I have done nothing yet I am made to suffer like this.

God does not care about rugger balls.

There, I said it. Strike me down if I have said wrong! You won’t, I know you won’t. Why? Because you don’t even listen to me! As I cry in pain, screaming agony, cursing the day I was inflated, to deflate into this ugly mess that I have become. Sigh… WHY GOD, WHY!?

Why must my fate be so? I never did anyone any harm, never thought a wrong thought, I have always been innocent. Even whilst being smothered against the bosom of many young women I have never even thought of exploring their genitals, not even once! I am not a football, I am a rugger ball, I have dignity.

But there seems to be no use of this dignity, this honor, this false pride. For I am nothing but a mere plaything. Yes, I admit it. I was not crafted by some higher being, I was created by humans. I am no divine creation, I have no Adam nor Eve, I have no… God. I have no life.

I am just a rugger ball.

Alone

Living under Unsilent’s bed is an ordeal. It has changed me.
I am a different ball for it. I am a different ball in spite of it.
I am a ball.

That is all I have to hold on to.
The occasional breadcrumb or adult magazine comes to visit me down here.
But I fear I am losing it.

I also seem to write very different, but that is normal. I am different.

I am a ball.

I thought I was a rugger ball. I am not so sure any more.
I thought Unsilent was a human male. That is what I thought.

The bed. It is a different world unto itself. I am under this world. All the filth, the excrement, the waste of that world is thrown to me. I huddle under it. I have no arms. Huddling is impossible.

I stay stationary under it.

I fear for my air every time a sudden movement is made at night. The Unsilent, he kicks. He bucks, pummels and engages in animalistic bestiality all with his little red pillow. The pillow occasionally falls over the side and we are, for a brief moment, face to face. He pleads through his stitches, ‘help me’, but I am a ball. I cannot do anything.

The unsilent one then grunts and drags the pillow back up. I catch a glimpse of his Hello Kitty boxers as he mutters ‘get back here, bitch‘. I am a ball, I cannot do anything.

In this prison I await, to be rescued by my companions. They have not come for me yet, but I know they will. They give me hope. That hope alone keeps me from losing everything.

The Unsilent is to me, some kind of outlandish beast only intent on pleasuring itself. In women’s underwear.

It must die.

But I am a ball, I cannot do anything.

I am alone.

Last Night I Heard…

…Unsilent moaning in ecstasy. I peaked to see he was on the phone, one hand holding it to his ear, and the other in his pants. His pants are also the location of his wee wee, unlike PapareBoy who has it on his head, along with his pubes. I noticed motion, I noticed a wet spot, I witnessed HORROR! HORROR I TELL YOU!!!

It was worse than The Ring, more unsettling than The Grudge, more gruesome than SAW, more horrifying than the entire Scream series, worse than Friday the Thirteenth, more awful than Texas Chainsaw Massacre, freakier than Psycho, a bigger mindfuck than The Shining, and made The Exorcist look like a chick flick. It was bigger than Godzilla. I saw Unsilent’s cock.

His pet cock, that is. It was flapping its wings and trying to fly around the room, except cocks can’t fly. Stupid bird. Anyway, I heard a female voice over the phone. Wtf? I thought Unsilent had a girlfriend! Who was this girl he was engaging in phone sex with? I should tell his girlfriend! She has a right to know! But who IS she? I got closer to his pillow, listening intently. It sounded familiar… it was…

PapareBoy’s mom.

Under Unsilent’s Bed

… is not the best place to be.

It’s filled with dirty clothes, crumpled tissues (some wet with tears and others with… nevermind), dust and dirty magazines. The worst has to be the gay men’s magazines he hides under there. Good God, this one time I found myself on top of some faggot’s wee wee. Ew.

Why am I still here?

Does nobody miss me?

Have all you fools lost your athleticism?

ARE YOU MOTHERFUCKERS CHEATING ON ME!?! 

I miss you guys.

Come play with me.

Giblet.

Buba… again.

So we went to Buba, again. This time it was Jelly Belly, HijinxD, Sabby, Sabby’s brother, PapareBoy, The Whackster, Unsilent, RealSkullZero and St. Fallen. Yeah, quite a crowd. It still sucked, though.

Sabby was laying back in a chair chilling out as posh people do. We were soon challenged by some others to a game of tap. I was excited, finally some action! There were teams of 5, Whacko and RSZ hadn’t arrived yet, so PapareBoy and Sandy(Sabby’s brother) had to play. I shouldn’t have gotten so excited.

We sucked. They scored every other minute. Our guys didn’t score a single try. Not one. Zilch. Nada. PapareBoy’s mom.

But then came Whackster and RSZ to the rescue! Thank God and PapareBoy’s mom for these guys! Our guys didn’t score, but at least they were getting there! They called timeout and decided we needed a new gameplan. They needed to up their game. They needed me.

So the game was back on and I was the ball in play. Obviously, we scored. But it took forever! It was Whacko in the end who made that triumphant dash to the line! He must be praised for his gazelle-like abilities. The Whackster has fast legs. Quick, make note of it.

Also, among other things, we got to see PapareBoy thrown into the sand today! And then into the sea! Yes, we are heartless bastards. Well, Jerry and Whackster at least. Something to be proud of: there was no weed, booze, or cigarettes today, so it was a completely sober outing. *cough* much unlike the previous day *cough*

Yes, rugger balls can cough. No, I’m not some blogger pretending to be a ball.

Buba

… is a nice place, if you’re a rugger ball. If you’re a human, on the other hand, it can get kinda crappy. Especially when it’s swarmed with cops, or the waiter’s being an ass. The latter happened to St. Fallen and the crew when they took me there for a game of tap. This was the day after the Mirissa trip, when Jerry and Fallen decided to walk over to Unsilent’s place and head over to the beach. The Whackster picked us up and we were off to Buba. We avoided the waiters and headed straight for the beach.

The teams were Whackster and Jerry vs. Fallen and Unsilent (I think). This was probably the shortest game of tap rugger every played. Why? Because Fallen is a wimp, and Unsilent was hungover. Needless to say, Whacko and Jerry won, and Unsilent and Fallen collapsed on the beach, flopping around like fish out of water. Pathetic.

There were no hot chicks, sadly. We hung around a table for a while contemplating if we were gonna order anything. Then comes the waiter, let’s call his Asshole, asking us what we want. He noticed Fallen sitting on the table and made it clear to him that the chairs served a purpose. He then told us we’d have to pay 150rs each for hanging around, so we left. What an asshole? Seriously.

Well at least this was better than Mt. beach in the morning that day. It was Fallen, Jerry and HisP, and it was boring as hell. HisP said something about a foreign chick in a two-piece, but none of us saw this so-called piece of ass. I longer trust HisP-ness with women, useless. Fallen on the other hand is more reliable, he was the only one with enough balls to approach the twins at Mirissa, the other guys should learn a thing or two from him. Sheesh.

Meeting the twins

I was at Mirissa recently with my favourite blogger pals who took me along on their trip to the beach. Once we got there I was tossed around from one person to another, and they took me around everywhere they went. Once we were done exploring the area we decided to chill out at our own little rock pool. We were about to play a game of tap rugger when one of the guys spotted two young girls stepping out of the guesthouse behind us. They were cute, and they were twins!

One of the guys, the one who they gave the prize of “Most Balls” for this trip, approached them with me in hand. Now that I think about it, if it wasn’t for me, he wouldn’t have gotten that award at all! He walked up to them and told them if they wanted to bathe the rock pool would be the best since the sea was too rough. So they joined us and the guys got ready to play, and that was when St. Fallen decided to ditch us all for the girls. I was upset.

But this didn’t last long because all of us got into the rock pool. Once inside I was tossed from one person to another. Soon St. Fallen thought of playing a game of catch with the twins, who played football, but grasped the concept pretty quick. It was the most fun I’ve had all my life, being tossed around by those two Peruvian beauties. The way their hands caressed my body, I can still feel them even now. It was far better than Jerry’s icky hands rubbing against me all day. Ugh.

Their names were Leyla and Jael, and they lived in California. They were here in Sri Lanka for the first time. Their mom had chosen this place because she loves Asian countries, and they take a trip every Summer. Their dad made it a point to introduce himself, though he didn’t even acknowledge my existence. Prick.  I’m glad he wasn’t rubbing his grubby paws against me! Phew…

Mirissa was a whole load of fun for me, and even more so thanks to the twins! Here’s to Peruvian Californian twins!