Balls in the Air
During a day out at the faire, a group of guys find themselves unexpectedly playing a role in a juggler's show. <3
This story was written for Serling as part of my September Patreon Themed request day. This month's theme was "All the fun of the faire." :3 The story contains goofy sexual acts involving adult males. :3
Balls in the Air
"For my next trick... well, I fear not all of you present will be able to enjoy and appreciate the full scope of the magic. But please, enjoy the display. And for those of you who do find themselves with a more intimate understanding of what's going on, I have just one comment. Yes. Yes, it's exactly what you think."
Dressed in regalia appropriate for her position, the Ren Faire's jester had already surprised the crowd with her mastery of illusionary magic as well as slapstick and jokes. During her tumbling performance the crowd had gasped and cheered as she fell over and her jingling, bell-laden hat fell off only for a trio of rabbits to hop out of it. As she rendered much of the crowd bent double with laughter through a string of rapid-fire puns, each one simultaneously better and worse than the last, she had somehow managed to produce small props from her sleeves related to each and every pun despite the theme of the jokes having been chosen seemingly at random from her banter with the crowd.
As a result, many of them were somewhat disappointed, though not to the point of booing or anything so crass, when they saw her waving her paws over the loose sleeves of her shirts and drawing forth a trio of small, rounded furry balls of slightly differing sizes. She smiled at the crowd, perhaps letting her gaze linger on just a few people as she rolled the orbs in her palms before gingerly beginning to juggle them. As she got into the rhythm of the basic tossing and catching of the three balls, a fourth popped from her sleeve and joined them. Then a fifth, and a sixth. Each ball was coloured differently, some monotone and others dappled or spotted with a variety of tones. The furred material covering them was of differing lengths, further adding to their uniqueness alongside the range of their sizes. But despite their lack of uniformity making it more of a challenge to juggle them all in rhythm, she did it with aplomb. Soon the crowd were cheering as she pulled off more and more complex manoeuvres and acrobatics while keeping all those balls in the air. At least, most of them were cheering.
There were some, all men, scattered throughout the crowd, who were squirming and red faced as the ferret worked to entertain them on this day at the faire. They didn't understand why, but watching the ferret juggle was giving them the strangest feelings. Sure, she was pretty, even considering her purposefully garish attire, but the fluttering sensation surging through each and every one of them was not centred in their hearts or their stomachs. Beside friends, partners or even surrounded only by strangers these men felt their faces burning brighter red as they felt themselves growing inexplicably excited watching the ferret toss and fondle all those furred balls. The more they watched, the more they noticed how her fingers caressed and squeezed each ball just before launching it back into the air. And as their legs began to quiver and their eyes to bulge at the embarrassment of finding themselves in such a state in this public venue, one by one they finally began to realise something not about the balls overall, but one of them in particular for each of those stunned, breathless onlookers.
One of the balls, in size, in the length of the supposed fur-like material covering them, and in not just the colour but the precise patterning of the fur in some cases... it looked familiar. So very, intimately familiar to each of those men. A fox. A kangaroo. A leopard. An otter. A rat. A zebra. A stag. A coyote. A wolf. Each of them could see a juggling ball that looked just like a much more personal pair of balls to them, and every time the ferret tossed and squeezed that particular ball, they found themselves shuddering and gasping at the sensations that touch provoked. But, it couldn't be what they were thinking, surely. It had to be something else. Some sort of trick to make them think this was going on. After all, the magic she'd done thus far had just been parlour tricks. The kind of stuff you could see any magician do on stage. Real magic... well, it wasn't a thing.
And yet, as they thought that, the ferret's words rang in their minds with new gravity.
'Yes, it's exactly what you think.'
All of a sudden, more than half a dozen pair of hands were groping as subtly as they could at their crotches. Trying to fondle themselves without drawing any attention to the bulges within their trousers' fronts, the individuals' eyes widening with horror and wonder in varying proportions as they felt between their legs and realised that something was missing. Or rather, was currently located elsewhere, sailing through the air at the behest of the ferret jester's delicate and playful touch.
A helpless yelp escaped the watching fox as the entertainer pretended to stumble, tossing all the balls high up into the air only to execute a perfect forward somersault and resume juggling without skipping a beat. The male horse very nearly lurched forward from where he was standing to try and retrieve his very own ball, before considering that he had precisely no idea of how to reattach them to his person without the ferret's magic. And the rat... the rat just stood with his face getting redder and eyes getting wider, squeaking softly and clutching at his girlfriend's hand each and every time his own grey, short, soft furred balls were groped and tossed by the ferret. Then he stiffened. He gave a brief, almost mournfully giddy grunt, and his already glowing features burned crimson as his ears and the tip of his tail began to twitch uncontrollably.
His girlfriend stared at him, aghast. She recognised that grunt. That twitching. She stared down at her boyfriend's crotch, and her own cheeks flushed brightly. Under her voice, she hissed in humiliated dismay.
"Oh my god, Bradley. What did you just... come on. We're leaving. Now."
The rat, still shuddering and gasping, squeaked in fright as his girlfriend tried to tug him away. Away from the stage. From the show. From the grey furred ball still being thrown and fondled by the ferret.
"No. W-we can't... she... t-the juggler. She has..."
His girlfriend looked at the ferret, then back at her boyfriend. She rolled her eyes, let go of his hand, and stormed out.
Watching the scene play out before her, the juggling ferret giggled to herself. Warmly, shamelessly she met the rat's gaze as he pushed through the crowd, alone now, to get closer to her and closer to what was his. She winked at him, and as his balls came arcing down into her waiting palm once more, gave them an extra firm squeeze.
The show was far from over yet. But when it was, she wondered if she might hold onto that small but plump grey ball for just a little longer. Long enough to lure the rat back to her dressing room, and give him some one on one entertainment now that his girlfriend was out of the picture.
By Jeeves
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