FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"CUT!!"

For what felt like the hundredth time that day, the dress rehearsal run of A Midnight Courtship came to a screeching halt. Not to mention, it nearly was midnight. It was the week leading up to opening night, and that meant hammering down every single last bit of the show to make sure that it was perfect. So when the director, a surprisingly elegant middle-aged polar bear named Darlene, stopped the scene, a collective groan raised up from the dozen-plus cast.

Granted, one cast member was groaning more than the rest. The show's male lead, a chestnut coated young horse, was crumpled down on the stage floor with his hand buried between his legs and his knees pulled up to his chest.

"What now?" the female lead asked, exasperated. Christine, a lean squirrel in her late twenties, was starting to lose her patience. She'd been in a number of shows at the Merriam before, always waiting for one to be her big break to Broadway itself, and the troubles that Courtship was having were more than any production thus far.

Mostly thanks to the moaning, whimpering equine curled up on the floor at her feet.

Darlene sighed, pressing a meaty paw to her forehead, kneading directly between her eyes. "Do you not understand how tight this scene needs to be? We're using a recording now, but we'll have an actual orchestra in on Wednesday, and if you two can't hit your marks dead on, the whole scene collapses."

Christine huffed. "I did hit my marks! Both of them!" she said, sticking her tongue out at her co-star. "It's not my fault he keeps hamming it up."

Brandon wheezed, shakily hauling himself to his feet. "Sorry... sorry!" he croaked, "I guess I just... my timing was a little..."

Darlene, currently seated in the fourth row to get a good look at proceedings, interrupted him. "You're anticipating, Brandon. We've been over this. It's four measures. Christine steps up with a four count, then she plants on her mark on one, on the next one she kicks you, on the NEXT one you land on your knees, and then we start into the next verse. This isn't complicated. Stop jumping your cue."

The horse swallowed, nodding awkwardly and flashing the director a thumbs up. Inside, though, he wasn't feeling quite as agreeable. How was she expecting him NOT to drop early? He had to stand, wait to get kicked in the nuts, and then fall on cue. And they'd been practicing all day!

Darlene nodded firmly. "Okay. Let's take this from the top. Remember everyone, this is the climax of Act One. We can afford some mistakes earlier, but this needs to be tight as a goddamn Swiss watch. Let's go. Brandon, I hope those balls of steel are holding up, cuz we're not stopping until we get three flawless takes in a row."

Brandon winced and took a deep breath. He looked down at the swollen lumps crammed into his tight pants. A Midnight Courtship was a period piece, with him playing a sailor come to shore and finding his true love. Up top, he wore a fairly standard navy blue jacket with a blue and white horizontal shirt beneath it, with a nice straw hat perched between his ears to complete the quaint picture. From the waist up, he looked like one of those charming old-timey portraits one might get taken at a carnival.

Down south was... a little less innocent. The white pants he'd been given were tight enough that he needed to really work to get his muscular legs into them, let alone cramming his horse-sized man parts in the front pouch. And that was BEFORE he'd spent the last three weeks taking a dozen nut punts a day. By now those things had swelled up like a pair of grapefruits and were straining the material to a downright obscene degree. He gently pressed his hand against the pair, a quick spot check to make sure things were still together. With how softened up his nuts were thanks to his costar's constant kicking, they sure didn't FEEL like balls of steel.

Oh yeah, the scene. The climax of Act One. Courtship was a musical comedy, with a good amount of slapstick in it. The show was all about Brandon's character, a scruffy sailor named Samuel, meeting up with Christine's character Rebecca, a stuffy aristocrat who ends up stealing his heart.

After spending several scenes winning her over, serenading her outside of her window and even coercing his shipmates in joining him to help, Rebecca falls for him as well. Then, as it always does in a romantic comedy in the first act, tragedy strikes. In A Midnight Courtship's case, it comes in the form of other ladies in Rebecca's little town telling her that they had met Samuel before, they'd BEEN WITH HIM, and he always broke their hearts in the end.

Betrayed, Rebecca tells Samuel never to speak to her again, leading to the finale of Act One, wherein Samuel begs for her forgiveness.

And so, Brandon got on his mark, planting his feet unsteadily, waiting for his cue.

"Aaaaaand, action!" Darlene called, pressing play on a remote control to get the recorded music playing through the empty theatre's PA system.

The young horse took a breath, shaking his head to clear the cobwebs out. He had to get this right. This was his first real show, his first starring role. This show was going to dictate how the rest of his theatrical career went. If he nailed it, he had a shot at going to the big time. If he couldn't keep it together... oof. Brandon had majored in theatre in college, it wasn't like he had any real world skills to fall back on. This was do or die.

Brandon was well-trained, though, like any good horse. His lyric baritone voice was half of what landed him the role, and despite every flex of his belly to hit those notes making his testicles throb angrily at him, he managed to power through the scene. He even forced his legs to pull off the (mercifully) simple dance routine, his lean muscles flexing attractively under the tight garments. Brandon was a goddamn handsome guy, and he loved showing himself off. That was the other half of what landed him on the cast list.

The scene was fairly simple, a courtyard set for the two lovers to have their moment, while a handful of extras stood nearby as townsfolk. Brandon and Christine circled each other, with Brandon in pursuit and Christine shunning him. As per usual, this portion of the scene was going off without a hitch.

Then, it came time for the big moment. Brandon planted his feet on their marks and spun around, standing with his legs spread and his arms held out wide. His heart was pounding, knowing what was incoming, but he had to keep it looking natural. The horse's testicles were dangling freely, barely concealed by his pants. His legs were parted, making a damn near funnel up towards his groin.

Brandon braced himself, belting out his song as smoothly as he could.

"If onlyyyyy... I could feel your paaaaaaaaain!"

One, two, three, four.

One.

WHUMP!

Christine was spot-on with her choreography. Four sharp steps, cocking her leg back perfectly on the fourth beat, and slamming it home at the start of the next measure. That loud SMACK sound of the toe of her shoe crashing into Brandon's unprotected gonads that made the male members of the cast wince faintly and the girls stifle a giggle.

Thump.

Brandon got his timing down just right. His knees hit the stage floor right on beat. Now he had a few seconds to gather himself while the music changed. The horse swallowed hard, his hands clapped around his bruised ponymakers, and started the next verse.

"If that is how you truly feel..." he began, singing an extra octave up in his impressively strong falsetto. The gag of the bit was that the audience would think, for a moment at least, that Christine's character was the one singing. It made it easier on him, too. If he HAD to start singing, at least he didn't need to try and keep in his lower register after getting his nuts punted up into his belly.

Another sight gag as two of Brandon's "shipmates" picked him back up onto his feet while he sang, and he managed to finish the scene. Samuel's song gradually won Rebecca over, and she blessed him with a kiss on the cheek to finish the Act. Curtain down. Intermission.

"Okay! That was one. Two more and everyone can go home!" Darlene called out, clapping once and sounding pleased with things. At least, as pleased as Darlene seemed capable of being.

Brandon wheezed, bending over and putting his hands on his knees, letting his legs stay open for a little while so his beat-up ballbag could breathe. "Can uh... can we take five? Please?"

Christine rolled her eyes. "What, are those balls of steel finally broken?"

The horse made a face. He was getting really sick of everyone saying that. From the first day of rehearsals that was how everyone kept referring to his nuts. The balls of steel.

Truth be told, Brandon hadn't been the original lead cast in the show. That honor had gone to a slightly older lion, a veteran of the circuit who had worked with the troupe before. Brandon had actually been cast as an understudy, running through the scenes without full choreography just to make sure he knew the lines and the rhythms.

The lion, Theodore, obviously had done the show before. At least, that was Brandon's assumption. He'd read the script and seen the stage cues, which simply read "Rebecca kicks Samuel, who falls to his knees," and hadn't thought twice about it. Then came the first run-through of the scene. Brandon sat at stage left, mouthing along with the song, vaguely shifting stance to shadow Theodore. Everything seemed fairly mundane, and then... wham! Christine did her bit, kicking Theodore full-on between his legs.

While Brandon stared in shock, putting his hands in front of his crotch, Theodore dropped right to his knees. At first, the young horse thought the show's lead had botched it entirely, all bent over and clutching himself, but then the song continued. Then, after Darlene called cut, he hoisted himself back up onto his feet. He was panting, and looked a touch uncomfortable, but Theodore was doing a damn impressive job of shrugging off Christine's kick.

"Was that good? Should I play it up more?" the lion asked. "Maybe she needs to lay it in harder?"

Theodore and Darlene had definitely worked together before, that much was obvious. The two had a rapport, shooting ideas back and forth regularly during the early read-throughs up to the blocking and early live runs of the scene. That was the first time Brandon heard that awful little nickname.

"If you want her to really go for it, Theo, that's fine by me. Those balls of steel still in good shape?" Darlene asked.

The lion laughed, reaching down and grabbing his set. Theo was surprisingly well hung for a feline, at least in terms of his balls. The pair was a big handful, and when he gave them a shake Brandon felt like they'd be visible from the back row. Brandon himself had only been kicked in the balls once in his life, way back in middle school by a girl who (apparently) had a crush on him. Just the idea of hopping back up after THAT and willingly putting himself up for another was hard to wrap his head around.

"They've held strong for the last six years, pretty sure they can handle another six weeks."

Backstage, all of the blood had fallen out of Brandon's face. Yes, he wanted to be an actor. It was all he'd ever wanted to be, but if that meant getting his nads kicked around like that... he wasn't sure he had it in him.

Granted, it didn't take long for Brandon's ego and jealousy at just being an understudy to get the better of him. Over the next few weeks, the horse would sit off to the side, watching the rehearsal and sniffing about how much better HE would have done that scene. How Theodore was constantly flat on his verses. How the lion had no chemistry with Christine and a horse just plain made more sense in the role. All done with the smug confidence of not having to be the one on stage taking the kicks himself.

Theodore did his best to shrug off Brandon's constant sniffy comments, but as the weeks went on, frustration grew and there was more tension in the air between the two. When Theodore flubbed a line or missed a cue, he knew Brandon was letting someone nearby know that HE wouldn't have made that mistake.

Finally, Theodore had enough. The rehearsals were getting long, Theodore's balls were starting to hurt from doing take after take, and the last thing he needed was some rookie talking behind his back. With less than three weeks before opening night, Brandon ran his mouth one too many times.

"Come on, Theo! It's a four count! You can count to four, right?" he had snorted in that equine way, snapping his fingers in rhythm. The worst part, at least for Theodore, was that Brandon was growing popular with the cast and crew, and his jabs were starting to garner some quiet snickers at the lion's expense.

The lion let out a half of a roar, not having quite the belly strength to rip out a full one, and stormed off. "That's it. I'm out! I'm done! If My Little Pony thinks he can do it so perfectly, let him take the lead!" Theodore growled on his way off stage, loudly shoving his way through the double doors.

For a moment, the whole cast and crew were dumbstruck. No one had ever seen Theodore just lose his temper like that.

Slowly, all the eyes turned to Brandon. He could be a bit of a diva, and he had a jealous streak a mile long when it came to being an understudy beneath Theodore, but he was always right on time for rehearsals, he never asked to leave early, helped the crew out with moving equipment, and hey he didn't look half bad in the outfit. For the most part, he seemed like someone who was just getting to understand the real world of theatre but needed to get his feet put back on the ground.

Still, the show's lead had just stomped off in a huff, and there was no denying that it was his fault.

"Brandon, don't just stand there like you're waiting for your mom, go talk to him! Apologize!!" Darlene yelped.

Immediately, the young horse galloped off in pursuit of the lion, taking those big long strides as he went. He caught up to Theodore in the hallway, just barely stopping him before the angry feline left the building. Brandon darted in front, putting himself between Theo and the door, looking as apologetic as he possibly could.

"Theo! Look, I'm sorry, okay? I wasn't trying to piss you off, honest. I was just joking around!"

Theodore glared at him. They weren't quite on eye level, with Brandon's neck holding him a good bit taller, but it was still a lion he was dealing with. An angry one, no less.

"No you weren't, don't even give me that. I know your type," Theodore seethed. "You just graduated your fancy private school your parents paid for, you probably kept getting the lead roles in your college shows and everyone told you that you'd be on Broadway in no time. Well this is the real world. You were a big fish in a small pond and you're acting like this is all beneath you. I've been busting my ass on the regional circuit for ten years now, and the last thing I need is some punk who's never done any real work talking like he's better than me!"

Brandon's eyes went wide, his voice momentarily leaving him. He wasn't quite expecting Theodore to be so... accurate. The horse swallowed uncomfortably. "Hey, listen, I know I was giving you a hard time, it's just tough cuz I was really hoping for the lead, and n-"

Theodore stepped even closer, enough for Brandon to feel the lion's breath on his nose. "And now you've gotta learn how it works. So guess what, buttercup? It's all yours. If they want some balls of steel to kick around, it ain't gonna be mine! Hope yours are ready!"

Then, in one quick movement, Theodore rammed his knee straight up between Brandon's legs, shoving him back into the door to force it open, and left. Brandon stayed in place, leaned up against the door, groaning and holding his nuts unhappily. God damn, he thought. That... hurt a lot more than he expected it to.

Then he thought, oh shit. Now it was gonna be him on stage with his legs spread.

And so Brandon awkwardly walked back inside, making his way to the stage, seeing everyone waiting for him and rubbing the back of his neck uneasily.

"Uh... Theo's gone. I couldn't talk him into staying. I tried, I swear," he said, shifting his glance to everyone in turn, hoping they'd understand.

After a beat of silence, Darlene shrugged and shook her head. "Well, if Theo wimped out, not much we can do there. Congratulations, Brandon, now's your time to shine. You got those balls of steel, right?"

The horse flinched at the question. That really was the linchpin of the whole thing, wasn't it? He knew he could pull off the songs and the dance numbers without much trouble, but jeez. He was still aching pretty badly just from Theo thunking his nads out back, and the lion hadn't put nearly his full effort into it. Just the idea of going through all those rehearsals like he'd seen Theo doing made him shudder. He'd watched the guy get his balls kicked probably a hundred times, but somehow hadn't really thought about what it would mean if he were to actually take the role.

What choice did he have, though? Not only was it his fault the show's lead walked out, but if he didn't take it now, that would be the end of his career, period. It was his first show outside of college, if he bailed, he'd forever be that asshole who torpedoed a show three weeks before opening because he couldn't keep his ego in check.

So, uneasily, Brandon nodded. "Uh... yep! The... the balls of steel are ready to roll."

The polar bear clapped her massive paws. "Okay, then we are now officially behind schedule. Rehearsals are going to be a little longer than usual so we can get our new Samuel up to speed..."

And oh my lord did those rehearsals go a little longer than usual. For the first week, they ran through all the scenes surrounding that big climactic number, knowing they needed to makre sure all the simple stuff was nailed down first. None of that was a problem, he'd done extra long rehearsals before, after all, and he was ready to show Darlene, Christine, and the rest of the cast that he had what it took to lead the show.

Then came what came to be known as Brandon's Big Break (something he didn't see as QUITE as hilarious as everyone else did). The first day, Brandon instinctively jumped out of the way, causing a good round of laughter as Christine's kick got nothing but air.

Even Darlene got a chuckle out of it. "Well, it's obvious someone's never had to stand still to get his balls kicked before. Okay, My Little Pony, back on your mark" she teased, leaving Brandon with the realization that he had a new nickname. "I get it, it's hard to just stand there and take it, but you saw Theo, it's just mind over matter. Take a breath, hold still, let those balls of steel do the work for you."

Like any horse, Brandon was good at obeying orders, and so for take two he did indeed manage to hold rock still. He watched as Christine squared up in front of him, the whole thing going in slow motion. She was hot. Really damn hot, honestly. Curvy in all the right ways, with thick dark hair she had pulled back into a ponytail, and beautiful, REALLY damn beautiful, big brown eyes...

...that were absolutely laser focused on the horse's testicles.

Brandon gritted his teeth, ready to take a full-force nut kick from his co-star. The first one of what was destined to be many. He watched her leg pull back, he watched it swing forwards, but he closed his eyes before it made contact, balling up his hands into fists.

WHAP!

He heard the noise of her foot crashing into his gonads before his organs sent the message along themselves, and oh man did he know it was going to be bad. First the top of her foot slapped into the bottom of his ballbag, then they got flattened up against his hipbones. Two blows for the price of one! Half a second later and his testicles got the signal to his brain, SCREAMING at him for not getting out of the way this time.

"HOOOOOOOOHHHH!" the not-a-pony whinnied out, unable to hold it in, immediately collapsing to the stage and curling around himself.

Brandon's brain lost any thoughts of the show, his career, of looking like an idiot in front of his costars. All of that flew out the window like he felt like his nuts almost flew up out of his mouth. That squirrel had a HARD kick, and she didn't hold back at all! That must have been what a month of daily ball kicking practice gets, only now it was on a set that hadn't had that month to get used to the abuse.

...and they were just getting started.

"Oh come ON, Brandon!" Christine chided, crossing her arms and looking annoyed. "I know you were saying Theo wasn't putting enough into it, but this is ridiculous."

Darlene sighed, rolling her eyes. "I'm going to have to agree. Brandon, knock it off. You're not trying to sell to the back row of a football stadium, you don't need to go over the top. Get up, let's try it again."

Brandon whimpered, sweat beading on his forehead. He had his balls in his hands and he could swear he felt them swelling up. What did they say? AGAIN? How could they possibly expect him to get up and take another kick just like that?

"Brandon! Helloooooo?" Darlene barked, snapping her fingers to get his attention. "I'm sure you're comfy down there, but it's not naptime just yet. We have a show starting in two weeks and if we can't even get through it at all by the end of this week, you're really not gonna enjoy crunch week. And it will absolutely be a CRUNCH week for you."

The horse let out a pitiful moan but managed to force himself back onto his feet. His knees were knocking in but dammit, this was his time to shine. He was gonna show he had what it took to star in A Midnight Courtship better than that dumb lion.

WHAM!

SMACK!

POW!

Take after take, Brandon's tightly-trapped nutsack took kicks from Christine, sending those big dangly horse apples every which way. On the first day, he managed to beg Darlene into letting them cut the scene in half and just work on the kicking part without making him try to squeak out the falsetto verse. Sure, it meant a whole lot more nut-smashing than if they went through the whole thing, but at least they weren't expecting him to sing.

The worst part of it all was that everyone in the production kept acting like HE was being unreasonable for asking for some time to recover! If he took too long in between takes, his "shipmates" were there to heave him back up. If he flinched, they'd stand behind him so he couldn't get out of the way.

Brandon's rapidly swelling scrotum became just a prop for a squirrel to slap around with her feet, and he was the asshole for not putting it on the tee for her somehow.

"Come on, Brandon!" Christine teased him. "I get your horsie balls don't have as much as experience as Theo's, but at least PRETEND like you're a professional actor! Samuel doesn't know he's about to get his nuts cracked, so neither should you!"

The horse, with half of his weight up against a pair of wolves that were extras on Samuel's crew, whined.

"I've never been kicked this many times!" he complained.

"It's called acting, Brandon!" Darlene called up from her seat. "Stick those balls of steel out and let her do her thing!"

By the end of the first week, Brandon's testicles were nearly double their normal size. It seemed like they never had a chance to go down. He couldn't even jerk off, and that had been a nightly ritual for him after seeing the girls in the show dancing around. He even kinda got off from watching Christine punting Theo. Just... wow, it was different actually being on the receiving end. Even trying to stroke himself off made his balls bounce around and spoil the mood entirely.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, the scene began to piece itself together. Somehow, after a week and a half of getting his balls pounded on a daily basis, Brandon was able to adjust to the pain and what was becoming a downright problematic amount of pent-up horniness. The two helped off-set one another, in a weird way. If his nuts were hurting too badly, he could think about how much he wanted to fuck Christine. If his dick was throbbing mercilessly, he just reminded himself that Christine was about to ram her foot into his nuts again.

Actually, it didn't take long before Brandon and Christine had a flirty, if unusual, relationship going. She seemed to be winking at him before a lot of those kicks, and the kisses afterwards had grown more exuberant. He liked her a lot. She was energetic, passionate about the craft, and they were able to have some long chats about their career goals when he wasn't hunting down a fresh ice pack.

In fact, after one especially productive rehearsal, Brandon worked up the courage to out and out ask her on a date. Although in his typical playful fashion.

"Hey, Christine," he said, walking with her towards their cars, grateful that he was talking with her while wearing a set of jeans that managed to keep him modest.

"Yeah?" she replied, actually dressed LESS modestly than her stage costume. In a little reversal, her outfit as Rebeccah was a rather frilly dress, and now she was wearing a tank top with stretchy jeans that showed off HER contours. Brandon's eyes, unsurprisingly, were sweeping over all of them.

The horse snickered, really slathering on the smoothness. "I was just thinkin', maybe once the show wraps, you and me go out."

She grinned back at him. "You think? Not too often a guy asks me out after I've spent two months kicking field goals with his nutsack."

Brandon's ears flushed, but he managed to keep his cool. "Well that depends, if I take you to a movie or for some coffee, should I be expecting more kicks in the balls?"

Christine gave him a bump with her hips. "Well THAT depends, you gonna be bringing those balls of steel with you?"

That night Brandon was practically skipping as he walked from his car to his front door. Or at least he would have been, if skipping didn't make his nuts jump all over inside his jeans and force him to stop moving for a little while. But it was a success all the same. He'd have a date with his hot costar!

Now it was close to opening night, Brandon's balls felt like two giant bags of jelly, and that date seemed like it was years away. Everyone was stressed as the first performance loomed, and most of that focus was on whether or not their star was going to be able to make it through even one full dress rehearsal without an interruption.

"Uh... Darlene?" the horse squeaked, waving a hand to get her attention.

"Yes, dear?"

Brandon gestured for her to come up on stage and pointed off stage left. "Can I talk with you a sec? Like... in private?"

Darlene was not in the mood for anything to disrupt rehearsal normally, let alone so close to opening. She sighed. "Everyone, take five. Brandon, make this quick."

The two met in the hall that wrapped around behind the stage, a tunnel of sorts with concrete walls that serviced for fast transportation from one side to the other without needing to navigate around the various equipment. Brandon leaned back against the hard surface, running hand through his mane.

"Yeah, uh... I really, REALLY would appreciate it if we could like... give me a little break here, y'know?"

Darlene narrowed her eyes at him. The horse kept forgetting just how massive polar bears were, since she spent most of her time seated out in the fourth row, and having her crammed into that tight space with him, standing almost entirely in her shadow, was more than a little intimidating. She was pretty hot in her own way, though. Or at least that's what Brandon was feeling now that he was over a month deep into his involuntary celibacy.

"I'm sure you would, Brandon. And I would really, really appreciate it if we could get through at least one full run of the first act without any major fuck-ups."

Brandon winced. That was true, unfortunately. The show had a lot of intricate choreography, and a number of runs were spoiled even before they got to the big climax, though Darlene tended to yell out to keep going regardless, because at least those mistakes weren't fully ruining the rhythm of the songs.

"I know, I know," he said, nodding, looking downwards to avoid eye contact. "It's just... I've been taking a TON of kicks in the nuts this month. Like... way more than any guy should really be taking..."

Darlene rubbed her face. "Yes, that's part of the show. And it's frankly the most important part of the show. It brings the first act to a close and it sets up the second act."

Brandon shrank down slightly. "I... I know, but like... that's a LOT, y'know? And..."

Darlene stopped him mid-sentence. "Oh no. No no. Brandon, don't tell me they're starting to break down?"

The horse flinched lightly at the question. "Uh... I mean, they really haven't had to go through that much punishment before," he said, finding it incredibly weird to be talking about his testicles like they weren't, you know, part of his anatomy. "I'm gettin' kinda nervous that if this keeps up, they're not gonna make it through the performances."

Darlene took in a breath. His answer clearly rattled her, and she looked around the hallway a bit, as if she was hoping to find an answer out there somewhere. Then, she held her huge paw out, palm up.

"Let me take a look."

"...what??"

Darlene looked back at him flatly, clearly in no mood to negotiate. "Brandon, quit playing around. The show is riding on those things surviving five performances. We have Friday's evening show, then two on Saturday and two on Sunday. If you're telling me they're so beat up they might not last through that, we have a serious problem, so pull 'em out and let me see what we're dealing with."

Brandon swallowed. It shouldn't have been that big a deal. For one thing, it wasn't like his costume was really hiding much of anything. Those pants were nearly thin enough to be see-through, and he'd been told not to wear underwear beneath them (it had something to do with not wanting the lines visible). For two, even in college there had been plenty of fooling around between castmates and sometimes a director, so it wasn't the first time he'd show himself off to someone in a show.

And so, Brandon winced and tugged his pants down, hauling himself out to show Darlene the damage.

"Oh my GOD, Brandon...!" came the near immediate, shocked response.

The horse looked down at himself. Sure enough, his scrotum was an angry, angry red shade, the gonads inside swollen up so severely that they were filling that sac up completely. They didn't have much hair on them at all, so that inflamed flesh was completely on display. Horse balls were pretty big to start with, but his pair looked like they were nearly a handicap to be lugging around by this point, and even holding them up made him flinch.

"I told you!" he said, rather agitated himself. "I've been doing my best not to say anything, but aft-"

"Where are the balls of steel??"

Brandon froze, his entire train of thought derailed. He looked down at himself, the bloated testicles sitting heavily in his palm.

"I... I don't understand what you're..."

Darlene just gaped at him. "Brandon... please don't tell me you've been going bare-sack this whole time. PLEASE tell me you're fucking with me right now and you've got them in your other hand."

Darlene started breathing heavily, pacing in the hallway. "Oh no... oh no no no... Brandon, you absolute idiot, you were supposed to get them off of Theo before he left! That's half the reason we cast you, I figured you could fit into them! Have you... have you just been taking all those kicks to your balls completely unprotected??"

The horse fidgeted. Suddenly, a whole tsunami of memories washed over Brandon. All that talk about the balls of steel.

They weren't talking about HIS balls of steel.

They meant THE Balls of Steel.

It was a product.

It was why Theodore looked so surprisingly well hung for a feline. It was why no one seemed terribly concerned about him while he was rolling around on the floor.

Oh no.

Darlene put both of her huge mitts over her face. "Brandon, why didn't you SAY you didn't have a set? You put the whole show at risk!"

Now Brandon was back on the defensive. He'd spent the last month getting his balls kicked to the moon and back, and now he was apologizing for it. "I don't know! How was I supposed to know about that if no one told me!" he said, letting his balls drop from his hand, just incredulous that this was all somehow his fault.

The bear stepped in extra close, glaring down at Brandon. She really did have a whole lot of bulk over his much leaner body, and standing there with his tenderized pony bags sticking out in front of him left him feeling way, way more vulnerable than he cared to.

"Because, you little ditz," she said, jabbing at the top of his head with a thick finger hard enough to rattle his skull. "You should have probably guessed that we wouldn't be sending our lead actor on stage to get his eggs scrambled for real! So you've been going out there and sticking your bare nuts out for Christine to kick, over and over again, for the last month?"

When she put it like that, Brandon couldn't deny that it sounded incredibly stupid of him not to say anything.

"Good GOD Brandon I swear you deserved to get your nuts kicked all those times just for being that airheaded. You're lucky you're pretty and have a good voice, because you are gonna have a tough time if this whole acting thing doesn't work out."

Brandon frowned, feeling absolutely moronic. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, trying to think of what to say next.

"Uh... could we like, call Theo? And get them from him now?"

Darlene sputtered a laugh. "Now? NOW? Look at these things!" she said, just reaching over and grabbing Brandon's balls, picking them up enough to force him onto his toes and pulling an awkward "gack!" sound from the horse. "We couldn't cram these into his Steels if we tried! Do you even know how they work?"

Brandon, now planted fully against the concrete wall, his back arched and standing on tiptoe, made a realization: Polar bears are very, very strong. He had a feeling she could just carry him around by the ballbag if she wanted to. He shook his head rapidly.

Darlene growled in frustration. "Of course you don't. They're a shell of rubber, shaped like a set of balls, with a netting inside for your real balls to rest against. That way there's some space between them and your REAL parts." She said that last part with a squeeze and another upward yank. Clearly, Darlene's patience was almost entirely worn through.

"So, if we take these big things and just RAM them inside, they'll be all squished down to start with, and when Christine kicks you, they'll get smashed down even worse than if you're not wearing them at all. And it's not like we can just go down to a corner store and pick up a new set, they're only made by one company and each set is to order. It'll take a week for them to get here, and we just plain don't have that much time."

Brandon's ears went hot again, his eyes widening.

"But... what are we gonna do?" he asked, his voice small and uneasy. "And... can you le-"

"What WE are going to do, Mr Pony Boy," Darlene said back, keeping the pressure on his genitals, making sure he couldn't relax. As aching as that oversized sac was, just having them pulled taut in her paw was enough to put his stomach in knots. "Is nothing."

The horse, as had become annoyingly typical for him, didn't understand. "...nothing?"

The bear nodded. "NOTHING. As far as anyone else out there knows, you're wearing a fully functional set of Balls of Steel. Christine has no reason to think that she can't keep hauling off and slamming her foot into THESE," Darlene clamped her fingers around softened horse eggs with a vice-like grip, making the horse attached to them whinny with a high pitch. "And under no circumstances are we going to change that. So that means if you want to keep your plums from turning into pudding, you'd better really dig deep and not fuck up any more takes. So help me if this show fails because you were too dumb to wear protection, you won't have to worry about taking any nut shots ever again, capisce?"

Darlene's final word came packaged with an absolutely cruel squeeze and a lift that came dangerously close to putting Brandon's entire weight dangling off of his nutbag. He nodded furiously to get her to ease up. The bear nodded right back, satisfied, releasing him and dusting herself off, before pushing past him and going back out on stage while he bent over and coughed unhappily.

"Everything okay?" Christine asked on behalf of the cast at large, looking concerned.

Darlene smiled brightly. "Everything's fine! Poor Brandon was having some issues with the Balls of Steel, but it was nothing. We're set to go," she said, turning to look over her shoulder and shoot a glare at the entering horse. "Right, Brandon?"

The horse swallowed audibly, seeing her glare and doing his best to keep his gait even. He had a bad feeling that she wasn't making idle threats earlier.

"Uh... yeah! No... no problems! C'mon guys, opening night is right around the corner! Time's a-wastin'!" he said, clapping his hands, making sure to let everyone know that everything was fine.

Brandon certainly did have to dig deep. Between his balls and his increasingly frustrated dick, the horse's brain was having a difficult time getting enough blood to it to focus, but somehow... somehow... he made it. He held it together just enough to get through the next two days of rehearsals, of getting his nutbag smacked around like a birthday pinata, and it was opening night. The finish line wasn't too far off now, and it meant only one kick per show. Five more kicks total, and he would be done. That was it. Five kicks. Brandon could take more five kicks.

Right?

The cast stood around a candle backstage before the show, as was tradition. A moment to pay respects to those who had been on that stage over the years who were no longer with them. They held their paws together, circled around it, having their moment of silence.

Christine and Brandon stood next to each other, with her giving his hand an extra tight squeezing. For all the difficulty of the last month and a half, they'd all grown rather close, and tonight was their time to make it all come together.

Darlene let go of the paws on either side of her and blew the candle out. "Okay, listen up. This is big, okay? We have someone very special in the crowd tonight. A reviewer from The Herald is in attendance tonight."

The dozen plus cast members exchanged glances, murmuring. The Herald was a national paper. They were highly respected in theatrical circles.

Darlene made a soft "mmm-hm," seeing that everyone recognized the gravity of the situation. "So you see how crucial tonight is. A Midnight Courtship might be a rather lighthearted comedy, but that doesn't mean reviewers don't take it seriously. Everyone, every single one of you, needs to be on your A-Game tonight. It doesn't matter if you're just in the background or front and center. Everyone needs to be razor sharp. Tomorrow's write-up could either launch a dozen careers or send everyone to waiting tables. Understand?"

The assembled cast nodded. Pressure was nothing new to most of them. In a lot of cases, they thrived on it. Brandon, on the other hand, had never been in such a position. The highest pressure he had on him in college was just a grade. Heck, for his senior production, the last of his college career, was more laid-back than the others, complete with pranks and little ad-libs during the show to celebrate everyone's upcoming graduation. Now, Brandon had to be flawless, because his whole future was riding on this single performance. His first lead role, and it was the most important one of his life.

By that point, the whole show was muscle memory. They'd all run through it so many times none of them had to consciously think about what lines to deliver, what notes to hit. All that it came down to was keeping their nerves steady enough to pull it all off. And if their lead actor's testicles could withstand these last few kicks.

Christine and Brandon stood backstage right. He was fighting to keep his breathing steady, bouncing on his feet (carefully), while she was rock still.

"You ready?" he asked her.

Christine laughed. "I'm set, looks like you're about to burst. Calm down."

The horse snickered, definitely sheepish at how much more worked up than he was. "Just a lot riding on this, and it's my debut. I kinda figured I'd have a few shows under my belt before I had to get reviewed by a major publication in a starring role."

The squirrel took his hand and gave it a squeeze. "You got this. Those last few dresses were perfect. Just do it again."

Brandon smiled. It really did help. Even if he was talking with a girl who was a few minutes away from slamming his ballbag into his hips. "Uh... thanks. You two. Break a leg, yeah?"

Christine grinned playfully. "Maybe I'll break a nut!" she said, winking.

The scene played out like Brandon was watching it happen. Like he was floating above the stage, observing. He watched himself pivot gracefully around the stage while Christine effortlessly sidestepped his advances. The live orchestra made such a difference, because in the corner of his eye he could see the conductor keeping the tempo, and it gave him a visual cue that was much easier to follow.

Then came the moment. Brandon planted his feet good and wide, his arms spread, hips forward. He sang his lines, shoving his snugly held scrotum forward for Christine.

"If onlyyyyy... I could feel your paaaaaaaaain!"

One, two, three, four.

One.

SMACK!!

The entire audience gasped in unison, and Brandon's floating spirit was yanked right back inside his body. Christine really put her weight behind that one, and when her hard shoe SLAPPED those horse nuts, for a split second everything went white. Brandon didn't even need to pretend on the drop. He was stuck in place for a full measure, and dropped down hard enough to bruise his knees at the start of the next.

The horse gritted his teeth, breathing through flared nostrils, forcing his stomach to untie itself. This was why he didn't eat anything for at least two hours before the show.

"If that is truly how you feeeeeel..."

Roaring laughter from the crowd. Thunderous applause.

They had done it.

Act One finished without one actor missing a single note, without one step being out of place. Against all odds, they made it through the hard part.

After the curtain fell and the audience broke for intermission, Brandon hauled himself onto his feet and limped off stage, into the hallway where he'd had his talk with Darlene. It was a good place to hide out for a while, because the only time anyone went back there was during the show itself to get in position for their scene. Outside of that, it was usually empty.

"We did it!!" came a voice.

USUALLY empty.

Brandon's head snapped to the side, seeing Christine's smiling face peeking in through the door. She quickly stepped into the hallway with him, glowing. The squirrel had partway undressed, shedding the frilly costume but just standing in the leggings and t-shirt that she wore beneath it. They were dressed fairly similarly, actually.

"Heh, we did it! I hope the reviewer liked it," Brandon chuckled, feeling pretty exhausted. The adrenaline was coming down, and he kinda just wanted to sleep.

Christine's energy was higher than ever. She bounced over to him and tugged him in for a big hug, even putting a kiss on his face. "You did famously, hon. Really! That was the best you've taken those kicks so far."

Brandon grinned, kissing back and lazily putting his arms around the smaller squirrel. "Mmmhm, thank heavens for the uh, for the Balls of Steel, huh? You were really puttin' the boots to me."

Christine snickered playfully. "I had to! Opening night!" The squirrel started to get a little adventurous with her paws, sliding down along the horse's athletic body, over his abdominals. "Maybe after the show, I help you get these off and th-eep!"

Suddenly she pulled her hands back from where they had been, and where they had been was right on Brandon's balls.

The squirrel looked up at him, her eyes wide, then down at the huge lumps in his pants. Up. Down. Up again. "Brandon!! Where are the Steels?"

Brandon gulped. "Um..."

For a few moments, Christine was at a total loss for words. Then she laughed. "You pervert!" she said, swatting him on the chest. "You got outta those fast. You knew I was coming, didn't you?"

The horse blew out a big breath. Okay, he was safe. "Heh, ya got me! I uh, those things get really hot, y'know? I just wanted to slip out..."

Christine just shook her head, while Brandon relaxed. The pair laughed a bit more, with the squirrel leaning back against the wall across from him.

"Ya big doofus. You're lucky I didn't come back and feel like kicking you, that woulda been REALLY bad," she teased. Then, she lifted her leg up, and playfully jabbed at Brandon's nutsack with her foot, the toe of her shoe rather gently mooshing his balls against his pelvis.

The horse gasped, flinching. It wasn't a terribly hard impact, but it was enough to get a reaction.

Christine stared at him. "Oh you have GOT to be kidding me..."

Brandon put both his hands up defensively. "H-hold on, let me explain, I swear, it's j-"

Before he could try and mount a defense, Christine was laughing hard enough that she had to put her arms around her belly and bite her tongue to avoid getting any undue attention. Suddenly it all made sense. All that melodrama, the falling, the jumping out of the way, asking for extra time. She thought he was just so tender that even inside the Balls of Steel it was too much for his sensitive pony nuts, but... oh wow.

"Holy shit Brandon... I've been kicking your nuts for real? Like... you never had them at all?"

The horse went through the whole explanation, peppering in as many apologies as he could. He didn't mention telling Darlene, though. That felt like it would add some unnecessary complication. While he spoke, Christine was really putting in a good effort to keep herself composed, her lips pursed hard so she didn't burst out in laughter.

Once he was done, she stepped over and tugged him in for a hug, going up to plant a kiss on his big nose. "Oh Brandon, you stupid, stupid boy," she said, shaking her head and making him feel like a toddler who'd just tried to use the microwave for the first time and set the popcorn on fire. "Your balls must be SHRIEKING at you right now."

The tall horse huffed out, his shoulders slumped. "They are..." he complained, putting as pitiful of a tone in his voice as he possibly could. "I haven't even been able to jerk off!"

Christine gasped, clearly making fun of him just a little, and affecting a mock sympathetic tone of her own. "You haven't? Oh no... that's just TERRIBLE. You must really be ready to burst, in more ways than one!"

She glanced both ways down the hall, making sure they were still alone and no one had heard the commotion in there. "Mmn, maybe I owe these two boys a little apology? Think I could let them know how awfully sorry I am for kicking them so many times?" she said, slowly lowering herself to her knees.

Brandon's jaw dropped. He was in shock. Sure, there had always been those college shenanigans, but he didn't expect it here. Not now. But hoo boy had he fantasized about it plenty of times. The horse nodded, leaning back once again, letting Christine take the helm.

It became quickly obvious that fooling around backstage was not a totally new thing for Christine. She tugged those skin-tight pants down to mid-thigh on Brandon and pulled his cock and balls out into the open, making a nice big show of cooing and fawning over the size of them. Yes, he was a horse, and those balls were obviously even more oversized than usual, but Brandon knew full well she was playing it up for his benefit.

Truth be told, it was working. It was REALLY working.

Christine stroked her soft palms all over Brandon's equipment, lavishing the whole set with attention and praise. Her tongue slid all over his warm sack, seeing if she could lift one of his balls just with her mouth, teasing trying to fit the plump organ into her mouth and only pulling away when Brandon's whines and moans told her to ease up a bit. She carefully, expertly rolled and massaged his testicles in her hands while taking the flared head of his cock in her mouth, gently bobbing up and down and then...

...that was it. She stopped. Christine pulled her mouth away, planted one affectionate smooch on each of Brandon's balls, and then tugged his pants back up to cover things up again.

"Wh... why'd you stop??" Brandon yelped, his voice warbly and confused.

Christine laughed and tapped him on the nose with a finger. "Well, for one, if I finished you off you'd probably blow a load so big it'd take an hour to wash it out of my fur. With how pent up you are there's no way I'm gonna be swallowing all of it. For two, I'm pretty sure you'd fall asleep after that. But most importantly, acting is all about the method! You've been spot-on since Wednesday, and you've been doing it without getting off, so that means you perform best when you're all frustrated, get it?"

Brandon whined. His balls were aching for a whole different reason now, and his dick was throbbing so hard each time his heart beat his vision went all fuzzy. "N... no?"

The squirrel shook her head again. "You dumb pony," she snickered, reaching up and patting his cheek. "You did your best performance tonight, and that's after you spent a month without cumming! Obviously you can't cum now or you'll be back to square one! So how about this, remember our date? After the last curtain call?"

Brandon nodded, still not entirely sure about all this.

"Well, that's Sunday night. The day after tomorrow. All you gotta do is last through that, and I promise, I will empty those things out so fucking hard you'll lose ten pounds," she said, smiling, and holding her little finger up to Brandon.

The horse let out another whine, but took her pinky in his and gave it a squeeze. Christine nodded and quickly scurried towards the door to the backstage area. "Okay, five minutes until lights down, get into your outfit for act two."

"Hey! But... but what am I supposed to do about this??" Brandon called after her, pointing at the massive erection poking at the inside of his shirt.

"Talk to Darlene!" the squirrel hollered back, and then she was gone.

Darlene was in her office, scrolling through social media on her laptop, seeing if anyone had put up any mentions of the show during intermission, as well as going over notes from the first act that may need to be brought up the next morning while they prepped for Saturday's matinee.

"Uh... Darlene?" Brandon said, sheepishly poking his head around her doorframe.

The bear glanced up at him, and waved him in. "Well hey, My Little Pony. You should be proud of yourself, that was probably the best performance you've done so f-oh my GOD Brandon what now??"

The horse stood in front of her, looking all kinds of embarrassed, glancing down at himself, and the enormous hard-on that was not even slightly hidden by his pants or shirt. "Okay... so... I got this situation here, and um..."

Darlene slumped forward, her elbows on the desk, putting her face in your hands. "Brandon, your dick and balls have been more trouble during this god-forsaken show than anything else and if I had the choice I'd lop them all off right now, so you'd better have a very good explanation for why you came into my office with a massive erection."

Brandon huffed, crossing his arms. "Hey, this one really ISN'T my fault, okay? Christine was teasing me, and I can't finish myself off cuz my nuts are absolutely KILLING me, and now she's talking about how I shouldn't get off at all and she said you'd know what to do about it."

"Brandon, you're killing ME. Just put on a cockbelt, this isn't that complicated!" Darlene replied, looking at him like she was explaining the concept of tying shoes.

A blank look from the horse.

Darlene closed her eyes for a moment, a groan sounding from deep in the back of her throat. "Of course you don't know what a cockbelt is. You didn't know what Balls of Steel were, why on earth would you know what a cockbelt is. Okay, fine. I'll get you set up, but then this is your responsibility for the rest of the shows. I'm not doing it again."

The bear walked over to a nearby wardrobe and opened it up, leaning in, rooting around inside for a moment, before retrieving a length of leather. It really was just a simple belt, though it looked to be a fair bit wider for one portion of it. She walked over to Brandon and stood behind him, unceremoniously yanked his pants down, pulled his shirt up around his armpits. Then, she grabbed him roughly by the dick, making the horse yelp in surprise.

"Hold this right here, against your belly, got it?" she commanded, and quickly wrapped the belt around his middle, pinning his cock to his stomach by the wider (and thankfully softer) part of it.

"Okay? That'll keep that out of the way for you. You're not the first guy who's at his best if he's all pent up. Now get out there and so help me if you come to me one more time about your dick your balls I'm going to stick them both in a waffle iron, got it?"

The horse pulled his pants up and pulled his shirt down, surveying the situation. It sure felt weird, but his erection wasn't bouncing around and it actually wasn't too visible with his shirt. He slinked out of Darlene's office and got ready for the second act.

Thankfully, Act Two was a victory lap compared to Act One. No nut kicks, no difficult choreography. Just a nice calm story about Samuel and Rebecca getting married, with him learning to live a domestic life ashore and her learning to be a little more rough around the edges and have fun. Standard romantic comedy musical fare, complete with a big finale number that was full of callbacks to earlier songs.

The show ended, the crowd gave a standing ovation, and the curtain came down. The show was over, and Brandon was one fifth of the way closer to being done with his Testicular Hell.

Saturday morning, the whole cast gathered at the theatre, waiting to see what The Herald's review said. It was an unspoken agreement that none of them would look it up themselves, they had to wait until Darlene came in with the paper in hand to deliver the news. They'd done the performance together, it only made sense that they'd hear the verdict together as well.

Everyone sat on the stage of the empty theatre, chatting about nothing in particular. Brandon and Christine were off to one side, talking with a frumpy little mole who played Rebecca's Mother (and who did not approve of her daughter's dalliances, of course). The crew of Samuel's ship hung out together elsewhere, as did Rebecca's social circle. Everyone had their little group.

The door flung open, and Darlene walked down the aisleway, her face completely made of stone. All of the spread out sections of A Midnight Courtship's cast quickly converged at the front edge of the stage, peering at their director. Darlene met their gaze, her jaw tight, pulling the folded up issue of that morning's Herald out from her bag.

"...she LOVED it!!" the bear exclaimed, to a round of cheers from the cast. "I swear, this looks like we PAID for it. A glowing review from start to finish. The said the dancing was mesmerizing, the ship's crew had that perfect balance of boyish camaraderie with a rough seafaring life, Rebecca's family and friends managed to be stuffy and elitist while coming across as caring and concerned. And the chemistry between Rebecca and Samuel? A tale for the ages! I am so proud of all of you. I could not have hoped for better!"

Christine looked over at Brandon, who was so proud he looked like he might cry. She grinned and gave him a push with her shoulder.

Darlene grinned a touch. "Although, there was one slight criticism. Brandon, would you care to read this one?"

The horse furrowed his brow. That wasn't what he expected to hear. He took the offered paper, going down to the paragraph Darlene pointed to, and read aloud.

"Some might say Brandon's reaction during Act One's climax was over the top," he began, frowning from the words. "But I feel that's to the show's strength. It's campy and comical, so if anything I would have loved to see them go even further. Kick him like she's trying to send him into the balcony, let him roll around for a minute before the song continues, it's a comedy! Be comedic!"

Brandon swallowed hard as he went through the final bits of the paragraph. Darlene nodded firmly, taking the paper back from him and giving him a knowing glance. "That's right! So... let's give a quick re-block of that scene. Extras from the Act One climax don't need to hang around, all we need are Rebecca, Samuel, his two shipmates and Rebecca's mother since they all have lines."

The horse's attention snapped right over to Christine, who was visibly struggling to hide her amusement. She stood up and patted him on the shoulder.

"Well, come on! Looks like I'm gonna have to REALLY give those Balls of Steel a beating!"

The five actors all took their places, in full costume, with the director standing nearby to help guide the action along. They didn't bother with setting up the speaker system with the music, instead resorting to a small bluetooth speaker. All they were doing was making a small adjustment to one scene, after all, so there was no sense in overproducing it.

Darlene glanced over at Brandon as she explained the new blocking. "Okay, really, the only two this will change anything for are Brandon and Christine. I mean, mostly for Christine, I have a feeling for Brandon this is going to be a rather welcome change, Mr Nap on the Floor," she said, making the horse grunt awkwardly.

The bear continued, guiding Christine along. "Now, instead of doing the simple four, pause, kick, pause, what we need is for you to start one extra step back. So you'll do four, then on beat THREE of the next measure, take a big step forward, that way you can swing extra hard for the kick on the following beat one, understand?"

The squirrel, hummed, tapping her chin, putting on a little performance. "I dunno..." she said, with a voice that Brandon realized was absolutely mocking the way he always needed things explained twice. "I think you should demonstrate it for me. That way I can see how it's supposed to look. That sounds like an awful lot of steps."

Darlene blinked. "A demonstration? Well... well, okay. If you think that'll help. Brandon, get over here."

Brandon glared at Christine, who was bouncing on her toes, looking pleased as pie with herself. He stepped into position and... yikes. Holding his legs apart for a spunky little squirrel was one thing, but Darlene was, to put it mildly, rather large. The bear looked down at him, at the swells in the pouch of his tight pants. Brandon gulped, and Darlene took her position.

"Look, dear, it's not THAT much different," she said, taking her phone and tapping the screen to make the speaker play the appropriate section of the song. Exactly as explained, she stayed a bit further back than the original blocking had been, making four steps forward (shortened, for her extra height) at the normal moment in the song. A half a measure later, the big polar bear hopped forward, cocking her leg back... and stopped there.

"See what I mean?" she said to Christine, while Brandon's whole body visibly sagged down, relieved.

The squirrel frowned, pretending to be in deep thought. "No, I'm not sure I see. I think you need to do the whole thing. I gotta see how it all fits together."

Brandon shot a look at Christine that was halfway between murderous and absolutely pleading to know why on Earth she was doing this. She knew he was bare-balled in there... but she didn't know that Darlene knew. And Darlene didn't know that Christine knew. Christine was pulling a prank, and Darlene was going to go through with it, because she thought she was still hiding Brandon's lack of protection.

In between two evil ladies, a horse's testicles were caught in the crossfire.

Darlene started the music, her giant bear (and bare) feet thumping down on the stage floor, while Brandon stared in horror. All that muscle was visibly flexing in her thick legs, her short skirt doing nothing to hide any of it. He whimpered, feeling very much like he was in front of a firing squad, waiting for execution.

She paused the song. "Brandon, dear?"

The horse winced. "...yeah?"

She gestured lightly with her hand. "Stand a little wider, please. My foot is a lot bigger than Christine's, I need some more space to work with."

Brandon fidgeted, stepping a few times to widen his stance. She told him to widen a little further, and so he did, until his legs were starting to ache from the position and his balls were miles away from anything to save them. The horse grumbled, shooting a look back at Christine, who seemed like she was about to explode with amusement.

So there Brandon stood, back in position. His legs and arms splayed out, his hips thrust forward so those tender, dangling horsie nads were ready to get launched into space. With his dick tied to his belly, those balls were all by themselves. In front of him, Darlene squinted at him, and an evil grin spread over her face. This was revenge. Brandon saw it in her eyes. This was payback for all the headaches he'd been giving her. One massive ballache in return.

The music resumed.

One, two, three, four.

One, two, three...

THUD!

"GWUUUUHHH!!!!"

Darlene kicked Brandon's near-naked nutsack so hard it picked him up off the floor. Her leg flexed as hard as she could, that wide foot hitting both of those nads solidly enough to make her toes ache. Even the other actors, who really did think the horse was wearing a set of Steels, gritted their teeth in sympathy. Well, the two guys did, at least. The older mole looked almost as amused as Christine did as Brandon's feet landed back on the floor and his legs completely gave out from under him.

"HNNNNGHHH!! FUU-HUUUUCK!" he howled, voice pitched sky high, rocking from side to side in absolute agony.

While Brandon wailed and writhed on the floor, Darlene peered down at him, pushing his shoulder with her foot. "Okay Brandon, that's enough. The moaning is fine, but if you start saying curse words that'll spoil the whole scene, understand?" She turned her attention to Christine, ignoring the curled up ball of misery on the stage at her feet. "See, he's going to have some time to be as melodramatic as he wants, so don't worry about overdoing it. Kick him like you're trying to dent your shoe. Make sense?"

Grinning absolutely ear to ear, Christine nodded, "Yes, ma'am!"

With the scene successfully modified to add some extra testicular trauma, everyone went their separate ways. Brandon's castmates left him right where he was, not picking him up this time. One of the wolves snorted.

"Jeez, that looked rough," he said, while they walked off.

"Pretty sure those Balls of Steel didn't help at all. That looked like getting hit with a sledgehammer!" the other laughed in return, neither seeming overly worried about the whimpering heap of horse behind them.

Brandon finally managed to make his eyes uncross, finding Christine cheerily standing in front of him, looking oh so proud of herself.

"Wwwhhyyyy?" he croaked.

She leaned down and ruffled Brandon's mane between his ears. "She earned that and you know it."

After getting some time to recuperate, complete with an ice pack and Christine yet again giving him an unfinished massage, it was getting close to the matinee showtime. Everyone gathered around the candle for their small seance once again.

When it broke, Christine spoke up.

"Oh! Darlene! I had an idea!"

Brandon's head snapped to the side. He did not like the sound of this.

"Okay, Christine, what is it?"

The squirrel had one of her trademark devilish grins on her face, bouncing on her toes while she spoke. "Well, I was thinking, why don't we add one last kick for Brandon at the end of the show? I mean like RIGHT at the end, while we're all taking our bows. I let him step forward by himself, and then pow! I punt his nuts from behind one last time just before the curtain comes down! It's a good callback, and I think the crowd would really respond well!"

The cast laughed, nodding in agreement, while Brandon himself slumped his shoulders and groaned pitifully. Darlene clapped, laughing right along with the rest.

"You know, I was just thinking that! I think it would really put a perfect cap on the show if Rebecca kicks Samuels's nuts right there. So Brandon, make sure you've got those Balls of Steel ready for the finale," she said, really putting extra emphasis on the product name as she spoke. "I'll make sure the orchestra knows that it's coming, we'll let them do an extra loud sting to really give it some punch!"

While everyone went their separate ways to get ready for showtime, Brandon walked alongside Christine.

"Why do you keep doing that??" he whined, standing as close to her as he could so no one else could hear the conversation.

The squirrel bumped her rump against his hip, taking his hand in hers. "Because!" she said, sounding far less concerned about being overheard. "There's only two more nights left, so I wanna get as many kicks in as I can! Besides, as long as we keep these boys good and angry," Christine teased, scooping his nuts up in her hand and jiggling them, making Brandon shudder. "Then that means you'll be giving your best."

Brandon frowned in his adorably boyish way, getting Christine's sympathy all worked up. "Awww, buck up! Two more days and then we can have our first date," she reminded him, singsonging the last word. That was enough to buoy the male's spirits. And yeah, she was right, it wasn't that bad. Two more nights, two performances per night, two kicks per show... okay the numbers were starting to add up, but that was still less than most of the rehearsals, and then his poor, poor testicles would be free!

Just then, Darlene came charging into the backstage area, her eyes wide.

"Everyone! Come here, this is important!"

The cast quickly made their way over, back near the candle. Darlene rarely moved quickly, so something big must have happened.

"I was just talking with the manager, we're sold out tonight AND tomorrow! The Herald's review was so glowing that online ticket orders went through the roof! They want to extend us for another weekend!!"

The whole cast cheered at the news. Well, all except one.

"...another weekend?" Brandon asked, whimpering.

Darlene nodded excitedly. "Mmhm! And if the sales stay high, and the buzz on social media keeps up, they might even ask us to finish out the whole month! A Midnight Courtship could be the biggest show of the summer! Congratulations, everyone! We've got a hit on our hands! And we owe a whole lot of that to our two leads and a sneaky video someone posted of the Act One finale. Brandon, it looks like a whole lot of people want to come see you get your nuts kicked!"

While the rest of the cast celebrated, Brandon's heart dropped into his stomach, his shoulders slumped forward.

"The... rest of the month?" he squeaked out meekly.

Christine pulled a playfully sympathetic face, putting her arm around the horse's middle and pulling him to her side. "Aww, I guess our date will have to wait a little while longer. But look on the bright side! You might have the most famous balls in town by the time this is over!"

Brandon groaned. The price of fame was much, much steeper than he thought it would be.

Maybe waiting tables wouldn't be so bad.