Humiliated on the Ball Field
Posted: Sat Sep 03, 2022 4:15 am
Just a disclaimer, this story is not entirely original work. It’s a rewrite of a story of the same name by TRJ467 I read years ago on the now defunct VSFW forum years ago. The original story was really great, and one of my all-time favorites (I’ve kept it saved over the years since that forum shut down for a reason), but it also read like a first draft in a lot of ways, so rather than just reposting it here as it was, I thought I would give it a bit of a rewrite. Normally, I wouldn’t do something like this without asking the original author for their blessing, but this story has not shown up anywhere online on any other site, so I’ve had no way of getting into contact with them. I'm writing a story entirely of my own right now so feedback is greatly appreciated. Enjoy!
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The summer between 6th and 7th grade, I played on a little league team, just like I had been for the past several summers. I had been playing on this team for quite a while and year to year the core of the team remained the same. Most of the players returned each summer as did the coaches. The same parents were in the stands day after day and we had become like a little family.
It was a hot summer day and the game started at 1:00 PM. The sun was just beating down on us, not a cloud in the sky, but it was a great day for a ball game. I was playing third base. We had our ace pitcher out there, and he was pitching some heat. It was great when we would get to bat, because then we got to retreat into the dugout and get some relief from the sweltering heat.
Our team had the typical set of characters: the fat chubby catcher who was always cracking jokes, the tall quiet first baseman, and the regular rotation of sucky players at right field. However, we had something unique to our team that none of the other teams in the league had: a girl. Her name was Jessica and she was in my grade at school. She was a typical tomboy and like a typical tomboy she went by Jess. She loved being on a boys’ team and she tried really hard to fit in. She was a tough cookie, and wouldn’t take shit from anyone on the team. If someone made a smart-ass remark to her, she wouldn’t think twice about going up to them and punching them in the stomach.
Our two coaches had a soft spot in their hearts for her, and definitely made sure that she didn’t run into any trouble with the guys on the team. After a couple incidents, we pretty much saw and treated her like one of the guys, and she absolutely loved it. She didn’t wear makeup like the girls at school, she chewed big gobs of gum, and she spit on the field just like the rest of us. That being said, even though it was hard to tell in her dusty baseball uniform, she was actually quite a pretty girl, and to top it off, this summer everyone on the team started to take notice of her growing chest. She didn’t have a massive rack or anything, but she definitely had a nice set of buds perking out of her shirt. No one really said anything, but we all would gaze at them whenever we got the chance.
Before this year, there wasn’t much to really look at on her, but with those blossoming fruit, there tended to be a lot more comments directed at her. On game days, we would all wear tight white baseball pants, and when we were stretching and bending over, you could get a great view of her butt. Sometimes, you could even see the outline of her panties through her pants, which was definitely the highlight of stretching. Someone would occasionally make a comment to her, asking her to bend over and stretch one more time, or telling her that they loved her choice of color that day, but this would always be followed by her walking over and socking the guy in the stomach.
I got along really well with Jess, and to be honest, always had a bit of a crush on her, so I was never the one making any rude comments. She would occasionally take off her hat and let her long hair come down, and it would remind me of what a pretty girl we had playing on our team. I also found her tomboy attitude somewhat attractive. I often wondered what those little buds on her chest looked like, or what she really looked like beneath those tight baseball pants. Since she pretty much fit right in with the rest of the team, we felt comfortable talking “guy talk” around her. She loved being accepted into the club and being allowed to hear what boys talked about amongst themselves.
We would often talk about how hot some guy’s sister looked in the stands that day, or how some girl at school was growing a nice rack, and Jess would jump in and say something like, “Is she giving you guys a boner?” Jess didn’t even know exactly what a boner was, but she knew boys talked about getting one whenever a pretty girl was around, and how annoying it was when it happened while wearing a cup. We would joke around with each other, asking each other questions like if we had pubes yet or if we were circumcised (I would always lie and say yes to both of those questions so I wouldn’t be the odd one out), and we would often comment on how itchy or sweaty our balls were that day. Being twelve, we had a ton of almost sexually oriented conversations like this, and there was nothing Jess loved more than hearing and learning about our privates. She had never seen a boy’s private parts before, but she was always eager to hear as much about our little privates as possible.
One of Jess’s favorite parts of practice was the cup check, which we always did right after stretching. All of us guys would have to wear jock straps to practice and games, but at that age, the cups were never really made that small, so we all just walked around with large bulges in our crotches. It was so unnatural to see all these young boys with these protruding crotches. It was almost like we were all walking around with huge packages between our legs. I’m sure the mothers watching loved seeing this, and this sight would always attract Jess’s attention. Just like we were drawn to staring at Jess’s protruding nubs on her chest, her eyes were drawn between our legs, to the large unnatural mound sitting there in our crotch. She knew we wore cups, but she didn’t really know what a boy’s privates looked like, what a cup looked like, how a cup exactly worked, or why it had to be so large as to create a large mound in our crotch. She definitely didn’t let on how fascinated and curious she was with our privates and our cups, but during this part of practice, she was always extra attentive. She wondered how come she didn’t need any protection for her privates, and what made a boy’s privates so much more sensitive, that we needed special protection for ourselves? She wasn’t naïve, she saw movies where guys got hit in the balls and would double over in pain, but she never quite understood why, and what made boys so sensitive down there.
For the cup check part of practice, we would all line up, including Jess, and our coach would walk by each of us, and we would have to knock on our cup with our hand. Occasionally, guys would sneak off during practice and take their cup off because it was so annoying and hot to wear, and to protect against this, our coach always would walk around with a bat in his hand. When he would walk by us he would occasionally gently tap the bat between our legs. Jess always loved seeing him do that, and she especially loved when he would do that to someone who had taken their cup off. The coach only would tap there, so it wasn’t incredible pain, but Jess was fascinated by the fact that the boy’s hands would instantly go down and grab their balls. They would double over cradling their privates in their hands. She loved to see these macho boys hit in their most intimate of parts, and turn into little girls crying about the pain. She was also fascinated by the fact that the guys’ voices would also change, they would talk like the air was knocked out of them and they were struggling to breathe. Jess always wondered how such a gentle tap could result in such agony.
As much as Jess fit in, there were definitely moments when her feminine side would show. After we lost the championship game the year before, Jess was the only one who cried. This year, the boys on the team all started getting a little more muscular, so a lot of the positions weren’t available to Jess because she just couldn’t throw as hard or run as fast as the boys on the team, so our coach would stick her at second base where a strong arm wasn’t necessary. More importantly though, like I mentioned earlier, she really started to develop this year, and she would do things that would drive us all crazy, like show up to practice in a tank top , especially because she recently started wearing a bra. She always claimed that she hated wearing anything feminine, but she was clearly very proud of this newly-obtained symbol of maturity. If you looked at her in the right light you could make out the lines of a pink training bra through her shirt.
I think we were in something like the second inning and we had our top guys out in the field. I was playing third base and Jess was sitting on the bench (she would come in to play second base later on in the game). I would get prepared before each pitch and be ready for a ball coming my way. Anyone that has played third knows that you can get some hard shots hit your way. You get a lot of line drives and one hoppers, especially because we had our ace pitcher out there. I was playing back in order to give myself a little more time to react to a ball hit my way, but the leadoff batter was up and our coach called in the corners in case of a bunt. This meant the first baseman and I had to play closer to the batter in case he bunted. I always hated doing this, because if I got hit a line drive, I would have very little time to react.
The leadoff batter was actually a pretty big guy, and as our pitcher started his windup, I got into the ready position. The batter connected solidly with the ball and pulled it right down the third base line right at me. The ball bounced and hit the ground only a couple feet in front of me. The trajectory of the ball was to my right, so I was going to try and back hand it. Unfortunately, the ball hit a little divot in the field on its one hop and bounced up and struck me right between the legs. I felt instant pain. I didn’t even bother to go after the deflected ball. I just doubled over with my hand grabbing my crotch and I fell over on my side. The pain was absolutely intense. I had never been hit hard in the balls up until this point, I had only had my balls tapped by something lightly, and felt slight pain, nothing like this before. Those large cups we would wear as kids never fit properly, I never even knew which side was up or down. It was such an awkward contraption. It never fit snugly because the bottom was always elevated away from my body so it felt like the cup did a better job protecting my penis than my actual testicles.
What had happened was that the bottom of my cup had lifted away from my body, and when the ball slammed into my cup, the bottom of the cup slammed up and clapped into my balls. My balls got in the way of my cup slamming into my body, and my testicles were just squished. The wind was instantly knocked out of me. I was struggling to breathe in. Anyone that owns a pair of these sensitive balls hanging between their legs can relate to the sheer pain and agony. I felt so nauseous that I swore I was going to throw up right there on the field. I wasn’t aware of anything around me, I was just lying on the ground doubled over holding my crotch with both hands. I was squirming around somewhat whining and whimpering, I could feel the sweat beading on my face. I just wanted the pain to stop.
I was in my own little world of agony, I only heard silence. I had no idea what was going on around me. My eyes were completely closed, and I was in the fetal position. Slowly, I heard my coach yelling at me, “Timothy, can you hear me? Relax! Timothy, you need to relax!” I then started to come to a little and I could feel my coach’s hand on my shoulder. I started to open my eyes and everything just looked so bright. I couldn’t make anything out, everything just looked white. I was focused on this intense pain in my balls. My hands were not directly on my balls, they were actually on my cup which now, ironically, was completely covering my balls. I seriously thought they were completely smushed. I thought my balls were going to look like little pancakes, that the baseball hit so hard that it just squeezed my balls between the bones in my groin and my cup.
My coach’s voice started coming through again, “Tim, can you get up and walk to the dugout?” I wasn’t responding, I was in my own world of agony. I couldn’t even see, let alone talk, but I was definitely crying. I heard my coach say, “Timothy, we need to get you out of the sun, we are going to help you off the field.” I couldn’t care less what he was saying, it felt like someone was pulling my intestines out of my stomach. I could feel my coach pick me up off the ground and carry me to the dugout. I still could not see a thing, and I felt like I was permanently in the fetal position. I was laid down on the bench in the dugout, and I could hear voices, but I really couldn’t make out what was being said, and who was saying it, I was absolutely dazed. My vision started coming back to me since I was now in the shade of the dugout. My coach, my assistant coach, the umpire, and the other team’s coach were all standing around me. They had no idea what to do. My coach said to me, “Timothy, is your mother here?” I tried to talk but I could only make out a grunt. These balls hanging between our legs make us so vulnerable. I couldn’t even talk! I just started crying again and the nauseous feeling started to come back.
At that instant, I heard someone run into the dugout and come through the crowd surrounding me. It was Jess’s mom, Ms. White. Ms. White said to me, “Timothy, are you okay?” All I could do was whimper. Ms. White then looked over to my coach and asked, “Is he alright down there?” My coach responded, “I’m not sure. Where is Tim’s mother?” Ms. White answered, “She’s not here, she was going to pick him up at the end of the game.” The coach of the other team then said, “Do you think he should be taken to the hospital?” The coaches and umpire had no idea what to do. They all just stared at me with a confused look as I laid there squirming in front of them with my hands between my legs. Ms. White broke the silence and said, “I’m a nurse, let me talk to Timothy.” She kneeled next to me and said, “Timothy, we need to find out if you are okay or if we have to take you to the hospital. Are you bleeding down there?” I could understand what she was saying, but I was purely focused on the intense pain, I couldn’t bring myself to respond. Ms. White repeated herself, “Timothy, I need to know if you’re okay. Can you check and see if you are bleeding down there?” I could tell my coaches and the umpire were not comfortable with the situation, and the umpire started talking to the coaches about starting the game up again. Ms. White looked over at the coaches and umpire and said, “Go ahead and start the game up, I’ll take care of this.” The coaches and umpire were relieved, they had no idea what to do and were happy to hand over this problem to Ms. White.
The other guys on the bench could feel my pain, and were all trying to look away. They avoided this part of the dugout, they just wanted to give me my room. As I was regaining consciousness, I could tell that there was one player on the team standing next to me looking down at me squirming around grasping my crotch. It was Jess. She was completely fascinated with this whole scenario. She couldn’t understand why I would only grunt and couldn’t talk. She couldn’t help but stare at my hands grasping my crotch, she had never seen a boy get hit this hard in the groin before. She was wide-eyed and soaking this all in. She looked over to her mom and said, “Is Timothy going to be alright?” Ms. White, quickly said, “Jess, be quiet, I need to make sure he’s okay.”
Ms. White was a very attractive lady, and you could tell Jess was growing up to look just like her. She was a nurse practitioner at the local pediatrician's office, I actually saw her there when I got my last sports physical done. I remember being so thankful that she wasn’t the NP doing my exam (Nurse Monroe, a plump older woman who reminded me of grandmother, asking me to turn my head and cough was humiliating enough). Ms. White also had a very nice figure. For a small-framed woman, she had quite the rack. Her chest was very pronounced and she didn’t try to hide it. Instead, she would wear some tight shirts to our games, which always caught the guys’ on the team's attention. When Jess wasn’t around, we would talk about how hot her mom was. She would often show some nice cleavage and she would always wear small tops and tank tops to our games so that she could get a good tan. It was nice to have a comforting, confident, pretty woman at my side talking to me. There is something so comforting about having a woman care for you in a motherly manner. I knew her well, and was happy she came over to help me out, instead of my gruff coaches saying things like “walk it off son” or “are the boys okay down there?” I looked up at her and looked right into her blue eyes, and I was reminded how pretty she was. As she was leaning over me, even in this intense moment of pain, I definitely took note of her massive cleavage, because the fact that she was leaning over to talk to me, meant I could peer deep into her cleavage as her large breasts hung there right in front of me with her shirt just barely covering them up. I was just happy she was there helping me.
Ms. White then said, “Timothy, I need to find out if you’re okay down there. We need to know if you need to go to the hospital. Can you please check yourself down there and see if you are bleeding.” I finally was able to grunt out a couple soft words, “I’m okay.” Even though I didn’t check anything, I just wanted to lay there for a couple minutes and have the pain go down. Ms. White then said again, “Timothy can you please check?” I then moaned out again, “I’m fine, I’m fine. I just need a minute” She then stood up from my side and said, “Timothy, I’m a nurse, I’m going to check you out and see if you need medical attention.” I really didn’t know what she meant, I thought she was referring to taking my pulse, or temperature, or something like that. I looked over at my coaches and they heard what Ms. White said, and they wanted nothing to do with this. They kept their gaze focused out on the ball field. They knew what was going to happen, and they wanted no part of it. They were fine with leaving me there squirming.
Standing right next to Ms. White, Jess was also looking down at me. She had no idea what her mother was about to do but her mind was racing with the excitement of the possibilities. Ms. White then said, “Timothy, you are going to need to relax. I know you are in pain, but I need to check you out. I’m going to need to move your hands.” I had no idea what she was talking about, all I knew was that I was in such serious pain, and the nauseous feeling was growing stronger and stronger. I mumbled out, “I think I might throw up.” Ms. White looked over at Jess and said, “Go grab that bucket.” Jess ran over and grabbed the ball bucket, emptied it, and ran back over. She couldn’t believe her ears, getting hit in the privates could make a boy have to throw up. This made her even more interested in finding out what boys had between their legs, and why they were so sensitive down there. She knew that she had been hit by a ball between the legs a couple times and it didn’t feel any different from being hit on any other part of her body. The guys on the team would often complain and make jokes about the “turn your head and cough” part of our yearly sports physicals, which Jess found really funny because she never had to get her privates checked. She wondered if this vulnerability was the reason why that check had to happen for boys but never for girls.
Ms. White, then grabbed my arms and forced them away from my groin. I then quickly moved them right back to grasping my groin. I didn’t know what she was doing, but I just felt better grasping my groin. Ms. White then grabbed my arms again, this time with a firm grip and said, “Timothy, I have to check you out, you need to cooperate.” I tried to fight my arms loose so that I could grasp my groin again, but Ms. White had a firm grip on my arms. I struggled and said, “Ms. White, I’m okay,” but as I said this I dry-heaved, like I was going to throw up. Ms. White said, “Timothy, if you need to throw up, throw up in the bucket.” She then pinned my arms down on my stomach and said, “I need you to keep your arms here.” I didn’t know what she was doing, I just knew I felt like I was on the verge of throwing up. I was still struggling to breath, and I was sweating buckets.
Now that my hands were removed from my groin, Jess just stared down in wonder at the mound in my crotch created by my cup. Her eyes were fixated on this protruding shape between my legs. She was confused how I could be so hurt, since I was wearing a cup, which was supposed to protect boys’ vulnerable privates. She didn’t know what a boy's privates looked like, but she knew that she was different down there. She didn’t need protection down between her legs like the boys did. She heard the boys talk about boners, and she had no idea what they were talking about, but seeing me in such agony, this was one time she was elated not to have the burdensome anatomy us boys had to carry between our legs. She was relieved knowing that she would never get hit and be in the agony she saw me in. Just like when she first learned about boy’s physicals, this tomboy was starting to realize the many advantages of being a girl.
Ms. White grabbed my belt buckle and started to undo my belt. As she was doing this she said, “Timothy, I need to see if everything is okay, you are going to feel me touching you down there, but I just need to make sure you are ok.” I could tell by the tone in her voice that she was a little uneasy with doing this. At this point, Ms. White started acting very professional. She snapped right into her nursing role and all that unease in her voice melted away. Normally, I would not be ok with a woman undoing my belt and checking out my privates, but when you are in extreme pain your inhibitions and modesty definitely go away. I was truly concerned with the state of my testicles. I was nervous that they were totally mush, and I was somewhat relieved to have a professional checking things out. As Ms. White was undoing my belt, I took a quick look around. No one in the dugout wanted to look my way. Everyone gave me my privacy and stayed focused on the game… Everyone except for Jess, that is. There she was, standing at her mother’s side. She couldn’t believe that her mother’s hands were basically inches away from my privates. She was filled with excitement and wonder at what was about to happen.
Ms. White had now unfastened my belt. Her hands grasped the top of my pants and unsnapped the first couple buttons, she then moved down to the zipper. I quickly looked down at what Ms. White was doing. She was leaning over me, and hanging right in front of me were her large breasts, though at this very moment they were the last thing on my mind. My groin was aching in pain and it was not subsiding. I looked up at Jess and she was just standing there wide-eyed because her mother was in the process of disrobing a boy right in front of her eyes. She was peering down at the bulge in my crotch from my cup in wild fascination, in her own little world of ecstasy and delight. She made a point of staying silent and not disturbing her mother, afraid that if she said a word, her mother would ask her to go away and give me my privacy.
I normally would have complained about Jess standing there watching this happen, but again I wasn’t really in the right mind to care about things like that. I was just concerned that my balls would be absolute mush at this point. Ms. White started to unzip my pants slowly and carefully, so as to not jostle my package. She wasn’t sure what awaited in my crotch, and seeing how much pain I was in, she wanted to be as gentle as possible. Jess couldn’t believe what was unfolding in front of her very eyes. She watched in silent delight as her mother’s feminine hands gently unzipped a boy’s pants. Jess always saw females as weak and submissive when compared to males, so seeing her mother taking control of the situation and disrobing a boy was quite a revelation to her. She suddenly realized that this was something her mother got to do every day as a nurse practitioner. After all, Jess had heard us all complain about the “males only” check we got during our physicals, she had just never connected the dots before. She knew how much value boys put on their private parts because of how much we would openly talk about them, but she also knew that we were very secretive about them. Though Jess had been on this team for years, she had never even caught a glimpse of a boy’s privates, yet there was her mother having direct access to a boy’s most intimate of areas. She couldn’t believe that a woman could actually do what her mother was doing, because Jess almost felt like girls weren’t allowed to see boys naked.
Ms. White finished unzipping my pants and then parted the top of my pants revealing my cup. Jess was amazed. There was that piece of equipment she heard so much about, heard boys knocking on, yet until now she never got to see. To Jess it looked almost like a bra for a boy’s privates. There it was, my cup sitting there covering my groin. Ms. White didn’t have any sons, so she wasn’t even entirely sure how to take this thing off, or how this contraption worked. While she certainly had experience stripping boys during physical exams, all she had to do there was pull down underwear. Jess had no idea what her mother would do next. She didn’t know if her mother was just going to take a quick peek beneath my shorts or what, but she was secretly praying for her mother to keep going. Jess was desperate to see what boys have kept hidden from her all these years. Maybe the term “boner” would make sense after seeing a boy’s privates or maybe she would understand what boys meant when they said “balls.” Jess was amazed how big the cup was, she thought that such a large cup must be hiding a very large package. Jess couldn’t care less about the pain I was in, she was on the verge of seeing a boy’s most private of areas. She even felt a bit of sexual arousal along with all the anticipation. Her stomach felt like there were butterflies fluttering around. She almost wanted to coax her mother on because she just didn’t want her to stop.
Ms. White looked down at the contraption I had wrapped around my groin and figured out how to remove it, realizing a jock strap is pretty much just like a pair of underwear. Ms. White slipped her two thumbs below my jock strap elastic. She wasn’t entirely sure how to do this, and wanted to do it very gently, as to not disturb my aching balls. Jess stood there mesmerized, her mother was going to remove a boy’s cup. Ms. White lifted the top of my jock strap from my waist very slowly. She then looked at me and said, “Timothy, let me know if anything I do hurts you.” I grunted out, “Okay.” I wasn’t sure how far Ms. White planned on going, but it did start to bother me a little that Jess was standing there fixated on my undergarments. What was her business here? I got along with her well, and I thought she was very pretty, but this is my most private of areas, this was no business of hers. I don’t think I would be allowed to see her in a similar state of undress. Shopping for a cup with my mom, doing the cup check, and just wearing a cup in general always embarrassed me a little bit. I don’t know why, but it felt like a very private piece of clothing. I desperately wondered what Jess and other girls my age looked like naked, but it was a losing battle, I never got to see anything.
It actually felt really good to have Ms. White lift the top of my cup from my body. Anyone who’s ever worn a cup knows how hot and sweaty it is underneath one of those things. It’s a ridiculous piece of clothing, your privates just roast in there. Even though I still had underwear on, I could feel the cool air from the dugout on my groin. Ms. White was shocked at the amount of heat she felt coming from under my cup as she slowly pushed my jock strap down between my legs and set it off to the side. Jess was a little disappointed by the fact that this just revealed my sweat-drenched tighty-whities because she was anticipating seeing my privates hidden under my cup. Jess was a little amazed at the fact that this large cup was just moved away, and it appeared as if there was nothing it was protecting. There was this massive cup, yet nothing near that size was underneath it. Looking directly between my legs, Jess could make out the outline of something hidden between my underwear. It was like her mother was peeling back the layers of an onion, and it looked to her like there was only one layer to go to get to the gold.
Jess could now make out the outline of a piece of male anatomy which she knew didn’t appear on her body. There was no little bulge in her panties. She didn’t quite know what she was looking at the outline of, but she did know that whatever it was, it wasn’t something that girls had. Her cheeks started to blush in anticipation while I was still hoping Ms. White was just going to lift the elastic of my underwear and take a quick peek. I knew by the way Jess talked at practice that she had never seen a boy naked, just like I had never seen a girl naked, so I thought this whole situation was totally unfair. Because Ms. White was a nurse and I was in such intense pain, somehow all the modesty rules had been removed. My privacy didn’t matter anymore. This girl was about to get the education of a lifetime, yet there I was, just a frustrated little boy desperate to see any part of a girl’s anatomy. How come the tables are never turned? How come I never find myself in the situation Jess was in? All I wanted was a peek, just throw me a crumb my way. I was just a sexually frustrated boy, and this situation just emphasized my frustration, because I knew that Ms. White would never allow her daughter to be in a similar situation. Us guys would change shirts at practice occasionally, but Jess never changed shirts and showed us her training bra. We never got a peek at Jess’s panties, besides seeing the outline through her pants. Yet here this pretty young girl was, standing by her mother’s side peering down at my most private of parts, the parts that made me a boy, and there was just a thin white sheet of underwear protecting whatever modesty I had left.
Ms. White calmly said to me, “Timothy, I need you to completely relax. If anything I do hurts you I need you to tell me right away. I don’t see any blood on your underpants, that’s a good sign, but I need to check that things are all okay down there. You’re going to feel me touching you down there. Just relax, I’ll make it quick.” I was still in immense agony, and I just wanted the pain to go away. I really thought Ms. White was just going to reach down beneath my underwear and feel around, so even though I was a little upset that Jess was standing there, at least she wouldn’t be able to really see anything. Ms. White put both of her thumbs beneath the elastic band on my underwear and I quickly looked over at Jess. She was just a statue staring at what her mother was about to do. I was so embarrassed that I just looked straight up at the dugout ceiling and anticipated feeling Ms. White’s hands on my private parts, but instead of just slipping her hand into my underwear, she began to slowly and gently pull them down. I was thinking in my head, “What are you doing? Jess is standing right there! Can’t you just ask her to go away for a minute?” But I couldn’t bring myself to argue, I was in so much pain, and Ms. White was just trying to help me so I just continued staring up at the ceiling of the dugout. Ms. White had my underwear about halfway down so I wasn’t quite exposed yet, but this is the most of a boy’s intimate area that Jess had ever seen. Jess still couldn’t believe the power her mother had, to actually be exposing a boy’s private parts. She couldn’t believe that I was just letting her mom disrobe me. Ms. White continued lowering my underwear until my boy parts were completely exposed.
The cool air of the dugout felt wonderful on my privates. There my bright white, untanned, hairless groin was, completely free of clothing. Jess’s eyes were fixated on the tiny wrinkly penis sitting there in my lap. There was the item she had dreamed of seeing for so long, the most intimate area of a boy on full display. It actually looked gross and disgusting to her, and so much smaller than she expected. For some reason this is not what she was imagining. She was anticipating something that exuded power, but instead there was just this little shriveled piece of flesh sitting there in my lap with a floppy bit of puckered skin extending past the tip of it. It looked like a deformed pinky finger to her. She then noticed the reddish sack of skin sitting beneath this tiny wrinkly piece of flesh. I was completely flaccid, my privates were steaming hot from sitting there in that cup, so my privates were very loose and limp. Ms. White looked down at my genitals and told me, “Timothy, your testicles are pretty swollen. Please let me know if what I do hurts you.” Ms. White reached down and gently grabbed my scrotum. I could feel her touching me, but my balls were so swollen that they were pretty much numb at this point, though I still had the intense pain deep in my stomach.
Jess looked on in disbelief. There were my privates sitting in her mother’s hand. She could finally see the culprit of all this agony. Jess still couldn’t believe how small my privates were. Is this what people meant when they said girls mature faster than boys? How could these little packages require such a large cup? Why did these little shriveled pieces of skin wield so much power? It actually looked quite pathetic to her. There wasn’t even any hair down there yet like she had. I lifted my head up and looked down, seeing my privates in the feminine hand of Ms. White. My scrotum was red and a little swollen, but my little balls looked pathetic in this grown woman’s hand. I could see the large breasts on Ms. White, and there in contrast was my tiny penis and balls I felt completely inadequate. This was completely humiliating. I looked over at Jess and her face was only a couple feet away from my privates. There she was, getting a great show of everything I had tried so hard to keep hidden.
It amazes me that we live our lives taking immense efforts to conceal our private parts day to day, but in certain scenarios this modesty is completely disregarded. In these weird situations, the person being exposed is expected to act as if being completely exposed to the opposite gender is okay and normal, and at the same time the person getting to see the person’s privates also has to act as if this is not a big deal. Deep down though, the exposed person is completely humiliated, their most intimate parts are on full display to the opposite gender, and the person getting the view couldn’t be happier. They are getting to see something forbidden, something no one else gets to see. They know how private this area is to this person, and they are getting full access to it. I desperately wanted to see a girl's privates, but never got the opportunity, yet here was a grown woman and her daughter looking directly at everything that made me a boy. I was completely exposed to them. They could stand there and size me up. They could see how truly small I was. There was nothing left to the imagination any more. They both now knew exactly what I looked like down there. They knew I hadn’t started puberty yet and was still completely bald. They even knew that my mom didn’t get me circumcised. And yet, I am left in the dark on the shape and size of their privates. It is a one-sided unfair exchange and they reaped all the benefits. There they stood, covered safely beneath their clothes.
Ms. White started rolling my testicles around in her fingers. She said to me, “Timothy, does this hurt?” I mumbled back, “No.” It was so embarrassing having this attractive woman playing around with my balls. I really felt like a little boy at this point. It was so weird having to respond to Ms. White as she had my genitals in her hands, I had to just try to not let my utter humiliation come through in my voice. There this woman was grasping my private parts and talking to me in a normal fashion, as if she wasn’t sitting there holding the very parts that made me a boy. As Ms. White was rolling my testicles around in her fingers, things were finally making some sense to Jess. She watched as her mother rolled my little blueberry sized testicles around in her hand and realized what boys meant when they talked about their balls. They must be the two little round things her mother was rolling around in her fingers. Ms. White gently laid my balls back down on my lap and then for some reason she picked up my penis and peeled back my foreskin. Jess’s eyes went wide at the sight of the purple head now on display. Now she even knew how I peed. Ms. White noticed the presence of some white gunk around the glans, and shook her head at me. She then took the head of my penis and spread the pee hole at the tip a little and looked down. Finally, she slid my foreskin back up over the head and laid my penis back down on my lap.
At first, I thought she was just checking to make sure that my penis wasn’t hurt too, but then she said, “Since you aren’t circumcised, you really need to make sure you’re pulling back the extra skin and washing your penis properly, so you don’t get any more cheesy build-up like that.” This was the most humiliating thing she could have possibly said. I’m lying there in excruciating pain and she’s taking the time to lecture me on personal hygiene like my mom always does. Jess was confused by this at first, because she could have sworn I said that I was circumcised like all the other boys on the team when it came up in conversation at last week’s practice, but one look at the expression on my face made her realize that me not being circumcised was a secret I did not want anyone knowing, and she realized that I had lied to fit in. She still didn’t know exactly what being circumcised meant, but from what her mom had just said about extra skin she wondered if it meant that most boys don’t have that wrinkly bit of puckered overhang covering the tip of their penis.
Ms. White then looked over at me and said, “Timothy, I think you’re going to be alright. I don’t think you need to go to the hospital, it just looks like your testicles are a little bit bruised from getting hit.” As she was talking to me I reached down to grab my scrotum and started feeling my balls myself. They felt a little more swollen than normal, but they were still ball-shaped and didn’t feel at all like mush. Jess watched intently as I felt my balls. She liked seeing how my little balls moved around in the little sack of skin that held them and really wanted to roll them around in her fingers like her mother had done. She somewhat knew that boys had a penis, but until now she had never quite understood what was meant by balls. This other unexpected component of a boy’s privates, the sack and balls between my legs, fascinated her just as much as my shriveled little penis.
As I was feeling around, one of the guys on our team came racing into the dugout with a small bag of ice from the concession stand. There wasn’t a ton of ice in the bag but it would be enough. He ran over to Ms. White and handed her the bag. He looked over at me and his eyes quickly gazed at my completely exposed genitals. This sort of shocked him. He couldn’t believe I was laying there completely exposed, especially right in front of Jess. He nervously walked away and didn’t look back. Ms. White gently placed the bag of ice on my groin and kept her hand pressed down on the ice bag. Jess couldn't believe the ease at which her mother would just place her hand right on my crotch. She didn’t ask for my permission, she just took full control of my private parts.
With her hand holding the ice pack directly on my crotch, Ms. White said to me, “Timothy, this ice is going to help with the swelling.” I asked Ms. White, “Can I pull up my pants?” she responded, “Timothy, just relax, just lay here and let’s get the swelling down.” She then asked me, “What is your phone number? I want to call your mother and have her come and pick you up.” I told her my phone number and she stood up, removing her hand from my crotch. She looked over at Jess and said, “Jess, can you give Timothy a hand and keep your hand on the ice bag. We really need the swelling to come down.” I was caught off guard by this comment. Why would I need Jess to hold an ice bag on my crotch? I could definitely do this myself. I wasn’t a little boy. I said to Ms. White, “That’s okay, I can hold it myself.” Ms. White shut me down, “Just lay back and relax, Jess will help you out.”
Jess looked down and lowered her hand slowly into my crotch. She really couldn’t believe she was doing this. Ms. White jogged out of the dugout to the concession stand, where there was a payphone to call my mom. Jess was silent, but her eyes wouldn’t leave my groin. I looked down and her hand was sitting right there in between my legs. I kept thinking, “This is ridiculous, her hand is basically right on my privates, she really shouldn’t be here.” I noticed the ice was in a clear ziploc bag and realized why her eyes were still fixated on my groin: she was looking right through the clear plastic bag at my privates. As I’m laying there, I can actually start to feel Jess’s hand directly on my scrotum.
I lifted my head and looked down. The bag wasn’t full of ice, so the ice sort of fell to both sides of the bag. Right in the middle of the bag where her hand was, there wasn’t any ice, so her hand was basically grasping my scrotum. Jess was fully aware of this, because she didn’t say a word to me, she just looked at her hand grabbing a boy's privates, and started to roll my balls around in her fingers. She was tickled with delight and didn’t care at all that I was completely and utterly humiliated. Despite the pain I was in, I could feel my penis respond to her touch and start to get hard. I was hoping that she would be too fixated on my balls to notice the change, but it only took her a few seconds to notice that my penis had gone from two inches to three inches and was now pointing straight up. At first, she just looked at it confused, but I could see the wheels turning in her head as she finally realized that this is what we meant when we said “boner.” That realization quickly turned to Jess beaming with pride as she realized that the pretty girl giving me a boner wasn’t someone’s hot older sister sitting in the stands, it was her. I laid my head back and tried not to think about what was going on down there, with my three inch uncircumcised erection pointing directly at an incredibly giddy Jess. Without saying a word, she pinched the tip of my penis and slowly but painfully peeled my foreskin all the way back, exposing me completely, just like her mother did. She stared in awe at the deep purple glans being choked by a tight band of foreskin and I was just too stunned to say anything. Her education was now complete. Jessica White knew all of my secrets.
Ms. White finally came back and told me that my mother was on her way. She thanked Jess for her help and, not noticing (or caring) that I was now fully erect and my foreskin had been retracted, she pulled my underwear up around the ice pack with my penis still hard and my glans still exposed. I was just relieved that the big show was over, even though there was an obvious little tent in my pants and my sensitive glans was painfully rubbing against the inside of my tighty-whities. When my mom finally came, I tried to get up, but I couldn’t stand up all the way, my balls hurt too much. I eventually managed to stand hunched over and waddled my way over to the car. It took a couple of days for me to feel completely normal down there again. The next time I went to practice, Jess ran right up to me and eagerly asked, “Tim, how do your balls feel?” As I struggled to come up with a response, I realized that she was wearing makeup.
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The summer between 6th and 7th grade, I played on a little league team, just like I had been for the past several summers. I had been playing on this team for quite a while and year to year the core of the team remained the same. Most of the players returned each summer as did the coaches. The same parents were in the stands day after day and we had become like a little family.
It was a hot summer day and the game started at 1:00 PM. The sun was just beating down on us, not a cloud in the sky, but it was a great day for a ball game. I was playing third base. We had our ace pitcher out there, and he was pitching some heat. It was great when we would get to bat, because then we got to retreat into the dugout and get some relief from the sweltering heat.
Our team had the typical set of characters: the fat chubby catcher who was always cracking jokes, the tall quiet first baseman, and the regular rotation of sucky players at right field. However, we had something unique to our team that none of the other teams in the league had: a girl. Her name was Jessica and she was in my grade at school. She was a typical tomboy and like a typical tomboy she went by Jess. She loved being on a boys’ team and she tried really hard to fit in. She was a tough cookie, and wouldn’t take shit from anyone on the team. If someone made a smart-ass remark to her, she wouldn’t think twice about going up to them and punching them in the stomach.
Our two coaches had a soft spot in their hearts for her, and definitely made sure that she didn’t run into any trouble with the guys on the team. After a couple incidents, we pretty much saw and treated her like one of the guys, and she absolutely loved it. She didn’t wear makeup like the girls at school, she chewed big gobs of gum, and she spit on the field just like the rest of us. That being said, even though it was hard to tell in her dusty baseball uniform, she was actually quite a pretty girl, and to top it off, this summer everyone on the team started to take notice of her growing chest. She didn’t have a massive rack or anything, but she definitely had a nice set of buds perking out of her shirt. No one really said anything, but we all would gaze at them whenever we got the chance.
Before this year, there wasn’t much to really look at on her, but with those blossoming fruit, there tended to be a lot more comments directed at her. On game days, we would all wear tight white baseball pants, and when we were stretching and bending over, you could get a great view of her butt. Sometimes, you could even see the outline of her panties through her pants, which was definitely the highlight of stretching. Someone would occasionally make a comment to her, asking her to bend over and stretch one more time, or telling her that they loved her choice of color that day, but this would always be followed by her walking over and socking the guy in the stomach.
I got along really well with Jess, and to be honest, always had a bit of a crush on her, so I was never the one making any rude comments. She would occasionally take off her hat and let her long hair come down, and it would remind me of what a pretty girl we had playing on our team. I also found her tomboy attitude somewhat attractive. I often wondered what those little buds on her chest looked like, or what she really looked like beneath those tight baseball pants. Since she pretty much fit right in with the rest of the team, we felt comfortable talking “guy talk” around her. She loved being accepted into the club and being allowed to hear what boys talked about amongst themselves.
We would often talk about how hot some guy’s sister looked in the stands that day, or how some girl at school was growing a nice rack, and Jess would jump in and say something like, “Is she giving you guys a boner?” Jess didn’t even know exactly what a boner was, but she knew boys talked about getting one whenever a pretty girl was around, and how annoying it was when it happened while wearing a cup. We would joke around with each other, asking each other questions like if we had pubes yet or if we were circumcised (I would always lie and say yes to both of those questions so I wouldn’t be the odd one out), and we would often comment on how itchy or sweaty our balls were that day. Being twelve, we had a ton of almost sexually oriented conversations like this, and there was nothing Jess loved more than hearing and learning about our privates. She had never seen a boy’s private parts before, but she was always eager to hear as much about our little privates as possible.
One of Jess’s favorite parts of practice was the cup check, which we always did right after stretching. All of us guys would have to wear jock straps to practice and games, but at that age, the cups were never really made that small, so we all just walked around with large bulges in our crotches. It was so unnatural to see all these young boys with these protruding crotches. It was almost like we were all walking around with huge packages between our legs. I’m sure the mothers watching loved seeing this, and this sight would always attract Jess’s attention. Just like we were drawn to staring at Jess’s protruding nubs on her chest, her eyes were drawn between our legs, to the large unnatural mound sitting there in our crotch. She knew we wore cups, but she didn’t really know what a boy’s privates looked like, what a cup looked like, how a cup exactly worked, or why it had to be so large as to create a large mound in our crotch. She definitely didn’t let on how fascinated and curious she was with our privates and our cups, but during this part of practice, she was always extra attentive. She wondered how come she didn’t need any protection for her privates, and what made a boy’s privates so much more sensitive, that we needed special protection for ourselves? She wasn’t naïve, she saw movies where guys got hit in the balls and would double over in pain, but she never quite understood why, and what made boys so sensitive down there.
For the cup check part of practice, we would all line up, including Jess, and our coach would walk by each of us, and we would have to knock on our cup with our hand. Occasionally, guys would sneak off during practice and take their cup off because it was so annoying and hot to wear, and to protect against this, our coach always would walk around with a bat in his hand. When he would walk by us he would occasionally gently tap the bat between our legs. Jess always loved seeing him do that, and she especially loved when he would do that to someone who had taken their cup off. The coach only would tap there, so it wasn’t incredible pain, but Jess was fascinated by the fact that the boy’s hands would instantly go down and grab their balls. They would double over cradling their privates in their hands. She loved to see these macho boys hit in their most intimate of parts, and turn into little girls crying about the pain. She was also fascinated by the fact that the guys’ voices would also change, they would talk like the air was knocked out of them and they were struggling to breathe. Jess always wondered how such a gentle tap could result in such agony.
As much as Jess fit in, there were definitely moments when her feminine side would show. After we lost the championship game the year before, Jess was the only one who cried. This year, the boys on the team all started getting a little more muscular, so a lot of the positions weren’t available to Jess because she just couldn’t throw as hard or run as fast as the boys on the team, so our coach would stick her at second base where a strong arm wasn’t necessary. More importantly though, like I mentioned earlier, she really started to develop this year, and she would do things that would drive us all crazy, like show up to practice in a tank top , especially because she recently started wearing a bra. She always claimed that she hated wearing anything feminine, but she was clearly very proud of this newly-obtained symbol of maturity. If you looked at her in the right light you could make out the lines of a pink training bra through her shirt.
I think we were in something like the second inning and we had our top guys out in the field. I was playing third base and Jess was sitting on the bench (she would come in to play second base later on in the game). I would get prepared before each pitch and be ready for a ball coming my way. Anyone that has played third knows that you can get some hard shots hit your way. You get a lot of line drives and one hoppers, especially because we had our ace pitcher out there. I was playing back in order to give myself a little more time to react to a ball hit my way, but the leadoff batter was up and our coach called in the corners in case of a bunt. This meant the first baseman and I had to play closer to the batter in case he bunted. I always hated doing this, because if I got hit a line drive, I would have very little time to react.
The leadoff batter was actually a pretty big guy, and as our pitcher started his windup, I got into the ready position. The batter connected solidly with the ball and pulled it right down the third base line right at me. The ball bounced and hit the ground only a couple feet in front of me. The trajectory of the ball was to my right, so I was going to try and back hand it. Unfortunately, the ball hit a little divot in the field on its one hop and bounced up and struck me right between the legs. I felt instant pain. I didn’t even bother to go after the deflected ball. I just doubled over with my hand grabbing my crotch and I fell over on my side. The pain was absolutely intense. I had never been hit hard in the balls up until this point, I had only had my balls tapped by something lightly, and felt slight pain, nothing like this before. Those large cups we would wear as kids never fit properly, I never even knew which side was up or down. It was such an awkward contraption. It never fit snugly because the bottom was always elevated away from my body so it felt like the cup did a better job protecting my penis than my actual testicles.
What had happened was that the bottom of my cup had lifted away from my body, and when the ball slammed into my cup, the bottom of the cup slammed up and clapped into my balls. My balls got in the way of my cup slamming into my body, and my testicles were just squished. The wind was instantly knocked out of me. I was struggling to breathe in. Anyone that owns a pair of these sensitive balls hanging between their legs can relate to the sheer pain and agony. I felt so nauseous that I swore I was going to throw up right there on the field. I wasn’t aware of anything around me, I was just lying on the ground doubled over holding my crotch with both hands. I was squirming around somewhat whining and whimpering, I could feel the sweat beading on my face. I just wanted the pain to stop.
I was in my own little world of agony, I only heard silence. I had no idea what was going on around me. My eyes were completely closed, and I was in the fetal position. Slowly, I heard my coach yelling at me, “Timothy, can you hear me? Relax! Timothy, you need to relax!” I then started to come to a little and I could feel my coach’s hand on my shoulder. I started to open my eyes and everything just looked so bright. I couldn’t make anything out, everything just looked white. I was focused on this intense pain in my balls. My hands were not directly on my balls, they were actually on my cup which now, ironically, was completely covering my balls. I seriously thought they were completely smushed. I thought my balls were going to look like little pancakes, that the baseball hit so hard that it just squeezed my balls between the bones in my groin and my cup.
My coach’s voice started coming through again, “Tim, can you get up and walk to the dugout?” I wasn’t responding, I was in my own world of agony. I couldn’t even see, let alone talk, but I was definitely crying. I heard my coach say, “Timothy, we need to get you out of the sun, we are going to help you off the field.” I couldn’t care less what he was saying, it felt like someone was pulling my intestines out of my stomach. I could feel my coach pick me up off the ground and carry me to the dugout. I still could not see a thing, and I felt like I was permanently in the fetal position. I was laid down on the bench in the dugout, and I could hear voices, but I really couldn’t make out what was being said, and who was saying it, I was absolutely dazed. My vision started coming back to me since I was now in the shade of the dugout. My coach, my assistant coach, the umpire, and the other team’s coach were all standing around me. They had no idea what to do. My coach said to me, “Timothy, is your mother here?” I tried to talk but I could only make out a grunt. These balls hanging between our legs make us so vulnerable. I couldn’t even talk! I just started crying again and the nauseous feeling started to come back.
At that instant, I heard someone run into the dugout and come through the crowd surrounding me. It was Jess’s mom, Ms. White. Ms. White said to me, “Timothy, are you okay?” All I could do was whimper. Ms. White then looked over to my coach and asked, “Is he alright down there?” My coach responded, “I’m not sure. Where is Tim’s mother?” Ms. White answered, “She’s not here, she was going to pick him up at the end of the game.” The coach of the other team then said, “Do you think he should be taken to the hospital?” The coaches and umpire had no idea what to do. They all just stared at me with a confused look as I laid there squirming in front of them with my hands between my legs. Ms. White broke the silence and said, “I’m a nurse, let me talk to Timothy.” She kneeled next to me and said, “Timothy, we need to find out if you are okay or if we have to take you to the hospital. Are you bleeding down there?” I could understand what she was saying, but I was purely focused on the intense pain, I couldn’t bring myself to respond. Ms. White repeated herself, “Timothy, I need to know if you’re okay. Can you check and see if you are bleeding down there?” I could tell my coaches and the umpire were not comfortable with the situation, and the umpire started talking to the coaches about starting the game up again. Ms. White looked over at the coaches and umpire and said, “Go ahead and start the game up, I’ll take care of this.” The coaches and umpire were relieved, they had no idea what to do and were happy to hand over this problem to Ms. White.
The other guys on the bench could feel my pain, and were all trying to look away. They avoided this part of the dugout, they just wanted to give me my room. As I was regaining consciousness, I could tell that there was one player on the team standing next to me looking down at me squirming around grasping my crotch. It was Jess. She was completely fascinated with this whole scenario. She couldn’t understand why I would only grunt and couldn’t talk. She couldn’t help but stare at my hands grasping my crotch, she had never seen a boy get hit this hard in the groin before. She was wide-eyed and soaking this all in. She looked over to her mom and said, “Is Timothy going to be alright?” Ms. White, quickly said, “Jess, be quiet, I need to make sure he’s okay.”
Ms. White was a very attractive lady, and you could tell Jess was growing up to look just like her. She was a nurse practitioner at the local pediatrician's office, I actually saw her there when I got my last sports physical done. I remember being so thankful that she wasn’t the NP doing my exam (Nurse Monroe, a plump older woman who reminded me of grandmother, asking me to turn my head and cough was humiliating enough). Ms. White also had a very nice figure. For a small-framed woman, she had quite the rack. Her chest was very pronounced and she didn’t try to hide it. Instead, she would wear some tight shirts to our games, which always caught the guys’ on the team's attention. When Jess wasn’t around, we would talk about how hot her mom was. She would often show some nice cleavage and she would always wear small tops and tank tops to our games so that she could get a good tan. It was nice to have a comforting, confident, pretty woman at my side talking to me. There is something so comforting about having a woman care for you in a motherly manner. I knew her well, and was happy she came over to help me out, instead of my gruff coaches saying things like “walk it off son” or “are the boys okay down there?” I looked up at her and looked right into her blue eyes, and I was reminded how pretty she was. As she was leaning over me, even in this intense moment of pain, I definitely took note of her massive cleavage, because the fact that she was leaning over to talk to me, meant I could peer deep into her cleavage as her large breasts hung there right in front of me with her shirt just barely covering them up. I was just happy she was there helping me.
Ms. White then said, “Timothy, I need to find out if you’re okay down there. We need to know if you need to go to the hospital. Can you please check yourself down there and see if you are bleeding.” I finally was able to grunt out a couple soft words, “I’m okay.” Even though I didn’t check anything, I just wanted to lay there for a couple minutes and have the pain go down. Ms. White then said again, “Timothy can you please check?” I then moaned out again, “I’m fine, I’m fine. I just need a minute” She then stood up from my side and said, “Timothy, I’m a nurse, I’m going to check you out and see if you need medical attention.” I really didn’t know what she meant, I thought she was referring to taking my pulse, or temperature, or something like that. I looked over at my coaches and they heard what Ms. White said, and they wanted nothing to do with this. They kept their gaze focused out on the ball field. They knew what was going to happen, and they wanted no part of it. They were fine with leaving me there squirming.
Standing right next to Ms. White, Jess was also looking down at me. She had no idea what her mother was about to do but her mind was racing with the excitement of the possibilities. Ms. White then said, “Timothy, you are going to need to relax. I know you are in pain, but I need to check you out. I’m going to need to move your hands.” I had no idea what she was talking about, all I knew was that I was in such serious pain, and the nauseous feeling was growing stronger and stronger. I mumbled out, “I think I might throw up.” Ms. White looked over at Jess and said, “Go grab that bucket.” Jess ran over and grabbed the ball bucket, emptied it, and ran back over. She couldn’t believe her ears, getting hit in the privates could make a boy have to throw up. This made her even more interested in finding out what boys had between their legs, and why they were so sensitive down there. She knew that she had been hit by a ball between the legs a couple times and it didn’t feel any different from being hit on any other part of her body. The guys on the team would often complain and make jokes about the “turn your head and cough” part of our yearly sports physicals, which Jess found really funny because she never had to get her privates checked. She wondered if this vulnerability was the reason why that check had to happen for boys but never for girls.
Ms. White, then grabbed my arms and forced them away from my groin. I then quickly moved them right back to grasping my groin. I didn’t know what she was doing, but I just felt better grasping my groin. Ms. White then grabbed my arms again, this time with a firm grip and said, “Timothy, I have to check you out, you need to cooperate.” I tried to fight my arms loose so that I could grasp my groin again, but Ms. White had a firm grip on my arms. I struggled and said, “Ms. White, I’m okay,” but as I said this I dry-heaved, like I was going to throw up. Ms. White said, “Timothy, if you need to throw up, throw up in the bucket.” She then pinned my arms down on my stomach and said, “I need you to keep your arms here.” I didn’t know what she was doing, I just knew I felt like I was on the verge of throwing up. I was still struggling to breath, and I was sweating buckets.
Now that my hands were removed from my groin, Jess just stared down in wonder at the mound in my crotch created by my cup. Her eyes were fixated on this protruding shape between my legs. She was confused how I could be so hurt, since I was wearing a cup, which was supposed to protect boys’ vulnerable privates. She didn’t know what a boy's privates looked like, but she knew that she was different down there. She didn’t need protection down between her legs like the boys did. She heard the boys talk about boners, and she had no idea what they were talking about, but seeing me in such agony, this was one time she was elated not to have the burdensome anatomy us boys had to carry between our legs. She was relieved knowing that she would never get hit and be in the agony she saw me in. Just like when she first learned about boy’s physicals, this tomboy was starting to realize the many advantages of being a girl.
Ms. White grabbed my belt buckle and started to undo my belt. As she was doing this she said, “Timothy, I need to see if everything is okay, you are going to feel me touching you down there, but I just need to make sure you are ok.” I could tell by the tone in her voice that she was a little uneasy with doing this. At this point, Ms. White started acting very professional. She snapped right into her nursing role and all that unease in her voice melted away. Normally, I would not be ok with a woman undoing my belt and checking out my privates, but when you are in extreme pain your inhibitions and modesty definitely go away. I was truly concerned with the state of my testicles. I was nervous that they were totally mush, and I was somewhat relieved to have a professional checking things out. As Ms. White was undoing my belt, I took a quick look around. No one in the dugout wanted to look my way. Everyone gave me my privacy and stayed focused on the game… Everyone except for Jess, that is. There she was, standing at her mother’s side. She couldn’t believe that her mother’s hands were basically inches away from my privates. She was filled with excitement and wonder at what was about to happen.
Ms. White had now unfastened my belt. Her hands grasped the top of my pants and unsnapped the first couple buttons, she then moved down to the zipper. I quickly looked down at what Ms. White was doing. She was leaning over me, and hanging right in front of me were her large breasts, though at this very moment they were the last thing on my mind. My groin was aching in pain and it was not subsiding. I looked up at Jess and she was just standing there wide-eyed because her mother was in the process of disrobing a boy right in front of her eyes. She was peering down at the bulge in my crotch from my cup in wild fascination, in her own little world of ecstasy and delight. She made a point of staying silent and not disturbing her mother, afraid that if she said a word, her mother would ask her to go away and give me my privacy.
I normally would have complained about Jess standing there watching this happen, but again I wasn’t really in the right mind to care about things like that. I was just concerned that my balls would be absolute mush at this point. Ms. White started to unzip my pants slowly and carefully, so as to not jostle my package. She wasn’t sure what awaited in my crotch, and seeing how much pain I was in, she wanted to be as gentle as possible. Jess couldn’t believe what was unfolding in front of her very eyes. She watched in silent delight as her mother’s feminine hands gently unzipped a boy’s pants. Jess always saw females as weak and submissive when compared to males, so seeing her mother taking control of the situation and disrobing a boy was quite a revelation to her. She suddenly realized that this was something her mother got to do every day as a nurse practitioner. After all, Jess had heard us all complain about the “males only” check we got during our physicals, she had just never connected the dots before. She knew how much value boys put on their private parts because of how much we would openly talk about them, but she also knew that we were very secretive about them. Though Jess had been on this team for years, she had never even caught a glimpse of a boy’s privates, yet there was her mother having direct access to a boy’s most intimate of areas. She couldn’t believe that a woman could actually do what her mother was doing, because Jess almost felt like girls weren’t allowed to see boys naked.
Ms. White finished unzipping my pants and then parted the top of my pants revealing my cup. Jess was amazed. There was that piece of equipment she heard so much about, heard boys knocking on, yet until now she never got to see. To Jess it looked almost like a bra for a boy’s privates. There it was, my cup sitting there covering my groin. Ms. White didn’t have any sons, so she wasn’t even entirely sure how to take this thing off, or how this contraption worked. While she certainly had experience stripping boys during physical exams, all she had to do there was pull down underwear. Jess had no idea what her mother would do next. She didn’t know if her mother was just going to take a quick peek beneath my shorts or what, but she was secretly praying for her mother to keep going. Jess was desperate to see what boys have kept hidden from her all these years. Maybe the term “boner” would make sense after seeing a boy’s privates or maybe she would understand what boys meant when they said “balls.” Jess was amazed how big the cup was, she thought that such a large cup must be hiding a very large package. Jess couldn’t care less about the pain I was in, she was on the verge of seeing a boy’s most private of areas. She even felt a bit of sexual arousal along with all the anticipation. Her stomach felt like there were butterflies fluttering around. She almost wanted to coax her mother on because she just didn’t want her to stop.
Ms. White looked down at the contraption I had wrapped around my groin and figured out how to remove it, realizing a jock strap is pretty much just like a pair of underwear. Ms. White slipped her two thumbs below my jock strap elastic. She wasn’t entirely sure how to do this, and wanted to do it very gently, as to not disturb my aching balls. Jess stood there mesmerized, her mother was going to remove a boy’s cup. Ms. White lifted the top of my jock strap from my waist very slowly. She then looked at me and said, “Timothy, let me know if anything I do hurts you.” I grunted out, “Okay.” I wasn’t sure how far Ms. White planned on going, but it did start to bother me a little that Jess was standing there fixated on my undergarments. What was her business here? I got along with her well, and I thought she was very pretty, but this is my most private of areas, this was no business of hers. I don’t think I would be allowed to see her in a similar state of undress. Shopping for a cup with my mom, doing the cup check, and just wearing a cup in general always embarrassed me a little bit. I don’t know why, but it felt like a very private piece of clothing. I desperately wondered what Jess and other girls my age looked like naked, but it was a losing battle, I never got to see anything.
It actually felt really good to have Ms. White lift the top of my cup from my body. Anyone who’s ever worn a cup knows how hot and sweaty it is underneath one of those things. It’s a ridiculous piece of clothing, your privates just roast in there. Even though I still had underwear on, I could feel the cool air from the dugout on my groin. Ms. White was shocked at the amount of heat she felt coming from under my cup as she slowly pushed my jock strap down between my legs and set it off to the side. Jess was a little disappointed by the fact that this just revealed my sweat-drenched tighty-whities because she was anticipating seeing my privates hidden under my cup. Jess was a little amazed at the fact that this large cup was just moved away, and it appeared as if there was nothing it was protecting. There was this massive cup, yet nothing near that size was underneath it. Looking directly between my legs, Jess could make out the outline of something hidden between my underwear. It was like her mother was peeling back the layers of an onion, and it looked to her like there was only one layer to go to get to the gold.
Jess could now make out the outline of a piece of male anatomy which she knew didn’t appear on her body. There was no little bulge in her panties. She didn’t quite know what she was looking at the outline of, but she did know that whatever it was, it wasn’t something that girls had. Her cheeks started to blush in anticipation while I was still hoping Ms. White was just going to lift the elastic of my underwear and take a quick peek. I knew by the way Jess talked at practice that she had never seen a boy naked, just like I had never seen a girl naked, so I thought this whole situation was totally unfair. Because Ms. White was a nurse and I was in such intense pain, somehow all the modesty rules had been removed. My privacy didn’t matter anymore. This girl was about to get the education of a lifetime, yet there I was, just a frustrated little boy desperate to see any part of a girl’s anatomy. How come the tables are never turned? How come I never find myself in the situation Jess was in? All I wanted was a peek, just throw me a crumb my way. I was just a sexually frustrated boy, and this situation just emphasized my frustration, because I knew that Ms. White would never allow her daughter to be in a similar situation. Us guys would change shirts at practice occasionally, but Jess never changed shirts and showed us her training bra. We never got a peek at Jess’s panties, besides seeing the outline through her pants. Yet here this pretty young girl was, standing by her mother’s side peering down at my most private of parts, the parts that made me a boy, and there was just a thin white sheet of underwear protecting whatever modesty I had left.
Ms. White calmly said to me, “Timothy, I need you to completely relax. If anything I do hurts you I need you to tell me right away. I don’t see any blood on your underpants, that’s a good sign, but I need to check that things are all okay down there. You’re going to feel me touching you down there. Just relax, I’ll make it quick.” I was still in immense agony, and I just wanted the pain to go away. I really thought Ms. White was just going to reach down beneath my underwear and feel around, so even though I was a little upset that Jess was standing there, at least she wouldn’t be able to really see anything. Ms. White put both of her thumbs beneath the elastic band on my underwear and I quickly looked over at Jess. She was just a statue staring at what her mother was about to do. I was so embarrassed that I just looked straight up at the dugout ceiling and anticipated feeling Ms. White’s hands on my private parts, but instead of just slipping her hand into my underwear, she began to slowly and gently pull them down. I was thinking in my head, “What are you doing? Jess is standing right there! Can’t you just ask her to go away for a minute?” But I couldn’t bring myself to argue, I was in so much pain, and Ms. White was just trying to help me so I just continued staring up at the ceiling of the dugout. Ms. White had my underwear about halfway down so I wasn’t quite exposed yet, but this is the most of a boy’s intimate area that Jess had ever seen. Jess still couldn’t believe the power her mother had, to actually be exposing a boy’s private parts. She couldn’t believe that I was just letting her mom disrobe me. Ms. White continued lowering my underwear until my boy parts were completely exposed.
The cool air of the dugout felt wonderful on my privates. There my bright white, untanned, hairless groin was, completely free of clothing. Jess’s eyes were fixated on the tiny wrinkly penis sitting there in my lap. There was the item she had dreamed of seeing for so long, the most intimate area of a boy on full display. It actually looked gross and disgusting to her, and so much smaller than she expected. For some reason this is not what she was imagining. She was anticipating something that exuded power, but instead there was just this little shriveled piece of flesh sitting there in my lap with a floppy bit of puckered skin extending past the tip of it. It looked like a deformed pinky finger to her. She then noticed the reddish sack of skin sitting beneath this tiny wrinkly piece of flesh. I was completely flaccid, my privates were steaming hot from sitting there in that cup, so my privates were very loose and limp. Ms. White looked down at my genitals and told me, “Timothy, your testicles are pretty swollen. Please let me know if what I do hurts you.” Ms. White reached down and gently grabbed my scrotum. I could feel her touching me, but my balls were so swollen that they were pretty much numb at this point, though I still had the intense pain deep in my stomach.
Jess looked on in disbelief. There were my privates sitting in her mother’s hand. She could finally see the culprit of all this agony. Jess still couldn’t believe how small my privates were. Is this what people meant when they said girls mature faster than boys? How could these little packages require such a large cup? Why did these little shriveled pieces of skin wield so much power? It actually looked quite pathetic to her. There wasn’t even any hair down there yet like she had. I lifted my head up and looked down, seeing my privates in the feminine hand of Ms. White. My scrotum was red and a little swollen, but my little balls looked pathetic in this grown woman’s hand. I could see the large breasts on Ms. White, and there in contrast was my tiny penis and balls I felt completely inadequate. This was completely humiliating. I looked over at Jess and her face was only a couple feet away from my privates. There she was, getting a great show of everything I had tried so hard to keep hidden.
It amazes me that we live our lives taking immense efforts to conceal our private parts day to day, but in certain scenarios this modesty is completely disregarded. In these weird situations, the person being exposed is expected to act as if being completely exposed to the opposite gender is okay and normal, and at the same time the person getting to see the person’s privates also has to act as if this is not a big deal. Deep down though, the exposed person is completely humiliated, their most intimate parts are on full display to the opposite gender, and the person getting the view couldn’t be happier. They are getting to see something forbidden, something no one else gets to see. They know how private this area is to this person, and they are getting full access to it. I desperately wanted to see a girl's privates, but never got the opportunity, yet here was a grown woman and her daughter looking directly at everything that made me a boy. I was completely exposed to them. They could stand there and size me up. They could see how truly small I was. There was nothing left to the imagination any more. They both now knew exactly what I looked like down there. They knew I hadn’t started puberty yet and was still completely bald. They even knew that my mom didn’t get me circumcised. And yet, I am left in the dark on the shape and size of their privates. It is a one-sided unfair exchange and they reaped all the benefits. There they stood, covered safely beneath their clothes.
Ms. White started rolling my testicles around in her fingers. She said to me, “Timothy, does this hurt?” I mumbled back, “No.” It was so embarrassing having this attractive woman playing around with my balls. I really felt like a little boy at this point. It was so weird having to respond to Ms. White as she had my genitals in her hands, I had to just try to not let my utter humiliation come through in my voice. There this woman was grasping my private parts and talking to me in a normal fashion, as if she wasn’t sitting there holding the very parts that made me a boy. As Ms. White was rolling my testicles around in her fingers, things were finally making some sense to Jess. She watched as her mother rolled my little blueberry sized testicles around in her hand and realized what boys meant when they talked about their balls. They must be the two little round things her mother was rolling around in her fingers. Ms. White gently laid my balls back down on my lap and then for some reason she picked up my penis and peeled back my foreskin. Jess’s eyes went wide at the sight of the purple head now on display. Now she even knew how I peed. Ms. White noticed the presence of some white gunk around the glans, and shook her head at me. She then took the head of my penis and spread the pee hole at the tip a little and looked down. Finally, she slid my foreskin back up over the head and laid my penis back down on my lap.
At first, I thought she was just checking to make sure that my penis wasn’t hurt too, but then she said, “Since you aren’t circumcised, you really need to make sure you’re pulling back the extra skin and washing your penis properly, so you don’t get any more cheesy build-up like that.” This was the most humiliating thing she could have possibly said. I’m lying there in excruciating pain and she’s taking the time to lecture me on personal hygiene like my mom always does. Jess was confused by this at first, because she could have sworn I said that I was circumcised like all the other boys on the team when it came up in conversation at last week’s practice, but one look at the expression on my face made her realize that me not being circumcised was a secret I did not want anyone knowing, and she realized that I had lied to fit in. She still didn’t know exactly what being circumcised meant, but from what her mom had just said about extra skin she wondered if it meant that most boys don’t have that wrinkly bit of puckered overhang covering the tip of their penis.
Ms. White then looked over at me and said, “Timothy, I think you’re going to be alright. I don’t think you need to go to the hospital, it just looks like your testicles are a little bit bruised from getting hit.” As she was talking to me I reached down to grab my scrotum and started feeling my balls myself. They felt a little more swollen than normal, but they were still ball-shaped and didn’t feel at all like mush. Jess watched intently as I felt my balls. She liked seeing how my little balls moved around in the little sack of skin that held them and really wanted to roll them around in her fingers like her mother had done. She somewhat knew that boys had a penis, but until now she had never quite understood what was meant by balls. This other unexpected component of a boy’s privates, the sack and balls between my legs, fascinated her just as much as my shriveled little penis.
As I was feeling around, one of the guys on our team came racing into the dugout with a small bag of ice from the concession stand. There wasn’t a ton of ice in the bag but it would be enough. He ran over to Ms. White and handed her the bag. He looked over at me and his eyes quickly gazed at my completely exposed genitals. This sort of shocked him. He couldn’t believe I was laying there completely exposed, especially right in front of Jess. He nervously walked away and didn’t look back. Ms. White gently placed the bag of ice on my groin and kept her hand pressed down on the ice bag. Jess couldn't believe the ease at which her mother would just place her hand right on my crotch. She didn’t ask for my permission, she just took full control of my private parts.
With her hand holding the ice pack directly on my crotch, Ms. White said to me, “Timothy, this ice is going to help with the swelling.” I asked Ms. White, “Can I pull up my pants?” she responded, “Timothy, just relax, just lay here and let’s get the swelling down.” She then asked me, “What is your phone number? I want to call your mother and have her come and pick you up.” I told her my phone number and she stood up, removing her hand from my crotch. She looked over at Jess and said, “Jess, can you give Timothy a hand and keep your hand on the ice bag. We really need the swelling to come down.” I was caught off guard by this comment. Why would I need Jess to hold an ice bag on my crotch? I could definitely do this myself. I wasn’t a little boy. I said to Ms. White, “That’s okay, I can hold it myself.” Ms. White shut me down, “Just lay back and relax, Jess will help you out.”
Jess looked down and lowered her hand slowly into my crotch. She really couldn’t believe she was doing this. Ms. White jogged out of the dugout to the concession stand, where there was a payphone to call my mom. Jess was silent, but her eyes wouldn’t leave my groin. I looked down and her hand was sitting right there in between my legs. I kept thinking, “This is ridiculous, her hand is basically right on my privates, she really shouldn’t be here.” I noticed the ice was in a clear ziploc bag and realized why her eyes were still fixated on my groin: she was looking right through the clear plastic bag at my privates. As I’m laying there, I can actually start to feel Jess’s hand directly on my scrotum.
I lifted my head and looked down. The bag wasn’t full of ice, so the ice sort of fell to both sides of the bag. Right in the middle of the bag where her hand was, there wasn’t any ice, so her hand was basically grasping my scrotum. Jess was fully aware of this, because she didn’t say a word to me, she just looked at her hand grabbing a boy's privates, and started to roll my balls around in her fingers. She was tickled with delight and didn’t care at all that I was completely and utterly humiliated. Despite the pain I was in, I could feel my penis respond to her touch and start to get hard. I was hoping that she would be too fixated on my balls to notice the change, but it only took her a few seconds to notice that my penis had gone from two inches to three inches and was now pointing straight up. At first, she just looked at it confused, but I could see the wheels turning in her head as she finally realized that this is what we meant when we said “boner.” That realization quickly turned to Jess beaming with pride as she realized that the pretty girl giving me a boner wasn’t someone’s hot older sister sitting in the stands, it was her. I laid my head back and tried not to think about what was going on down there, with my three inch uncircumcised erection pointing directly at an incredibly giddy Jess. Without saying a word, she pinched the tip of my penis and slowly but painfully peeled my foreskin all the way back, exposing me completely, just like her mother did. She stared in awe at the deep purple glans being choked by a tight band of foreskin and I was just too stunned to say anything. Her education was now complete. Jessica White knew all of my secrets.
Ms. White finally came back and told me that my mother was on her way. She thanked Jess for her help and, not noticing (or caring) that I was now fully erect and my foreskin had been retracted, she pulled my underwear up around the ice pack with my penis still hard and my glans still exposed. I was just relieved that the big show was over, even though there was an obvious little tent in my pants and my sensitive glans was painfully rubbing against the inside of my tighty-whities. When my mom finally came, I tried to get up, but I couldn’t stand up all the way, my balls hurt too much. I eventually managed to stand hunched over and waddled my way over to the car. It took a couple of days for me to feel completely normal down there again. The next time I went to practice, Jess ran right up to me and eagerly asked, “Tim, how do your balls feel?” As I struggled to come up with a response, I realized that she was wearing makeup.