POPS! - Travis the Intern

POPS! is going to be a series of short n' sweet stories inspired by hot photos I see across the web.  No character development. No recurring characters. No fluff (I don't even have to waste words on describing the dudes since there's always a pic!) 

Think of it as the 'money shot' version of my longer stories.  Want to be featured in a POPS! vignette? Shoot your photo over to TrumanSmith@gmail.com (you can include story ideas of just let me fill in the blanks!)

Thanks to Alex for the inspiration (here's a link to his outstanding blog in case you've been living under a rock and are unfamiliar with it) 

Travis

Mr. Westbrook's intern, Travis, knew he had fucked up, royally.  It had been his job to ensure that the financial analysis in Mr. Westbrook's presentation to the investors was flawless but glaring mistakes throughout the hour-long presentation made the watching investors uneasy and put Mr. Westbrook in the unusual position of playing defense.

The investors clapped politely and filed out of the room, ignoring Mr. Westbrook's request for a firm commitment to his pitch.  They had seen enough.  When the last investor filed out of the room, Mr. Westbrook ran a hand coolly through his slick black hair, closed the door to the conference room and closed the shades.

Mr. Westbrook seemed calm and for a second Travis thought he might get away with it...

"What the Hell was that?"  Mr. Westbrook bellowed.

Before Travis could even speak the middle-aged businessman had come across the room and pinned Travis against the wall, his forearm forcing Travis' head upward to keep eye contact with his irate boss.

"I'm sorry, I don't..."  Travis could barely speak as Mr.Westbrook's arm pressed against his windpipe.

"I shouldn't have even hired you, snot-nosed prick.  You think you're such a hot shot?"

Travis shook his head no.

"You made me look like a financial eunuch in front of the investors!"

Travis gasped in pain as he felt Mr. Westbrook's knee crashing into the crotch of his slacks.  Mr. Westbrook's aim was perfect, crushing Travis' ample balls between his strong knee and his pelvic bone.  Travis had just registered the pain when Mr. Westbrook's knee slammed upward again, and again.

"I'll teach you to fuck with my reputation."

Slam. Slam.

Travis' nuts were rapidly swelling and Travis clawed and scratched in vain, desperate for his muscular boss to let him go.

Slam. Slam. Slam.

"My balls!"

An intense pain radiated from Travis' crotch, seemingly collecting in this belly.  Mr. Westbrrok was enjoying finally taking out months of frustration on his cocky intern.  He could feel Travis' gonads flatten violently with each knee and knew he was doing serious damage but he didn't care.  Someone had to teach this cocky prick a lesson.

"Please..."

CRUNCH! CRUNCH!

Mr. Westbrook's leg was a blur as he slammed into Travis so hard and fast his kneecap hurt.  Travis' tight underwear kept his bloated nuts trapped in place, forced to take every horrible blow and the feeling of crushing  Travis' nuts was making Mr. Westbrook tent his slacks.

"I'm gonna' knock you down a peg!"  Mr. Westbrook roared as his knee slammed again and again into Travis' swollen sack. Travis desperately tried to escape...

The intern's balls ruptured in unison with a loud crunch.

Travis blacked out with a look of terror on his face and Mr. Westbrook nearly creamed in his slacks as he felt Travis' big bag permanently flatten under his knee.  He kneed Travis one more time, grinding into the intern's slacks, feeling the mushy bag fold around his knee like putty.  Travis' days as the handsome office stud were over.

Mr. Westbrook stepped away and let the handsome intern's limp body slide to the floor.

"Damn, I went through another intern."

Mr. Westbrook sighed, pulled his hard cock out of his slacks, gave it a few strokes and -- in a final indignity -- plastered Travis' blacked out face with jizz.