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A little bite of what you like does you good | STRAIGHT, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, MINOR, Other: | A young girl breaks up with her boyfriend by cutting off his cock and balls and then eating them. | Smiling innocently young Millie looked into her boyfriend's eyes and
slowly pulled down the zip in his jeans. She then slipped her soft
little hands into his trousers and pulled out his hard cock and
balls. Sliding her hands down the length of his hard cock she
grabbed firmly hold of his balls in her hands and started to squeeze
gently at first. She stared into his eyes with sadistic lust as she
slowly increased the pressure until she was squeezing them as hard
as she could. The sight and feeling of him writhing in pain as she
tried to crush his balls in her very young soft hands sent waves of
pleasure through her body making her pussy wet and hot with cruel
joy.
Letting go for a moment she pulled out a sharp knife from her school
bag and taking it her right hand she took hold of his balls in her
left hand and pulled them hard away from his body. She then placed
the sharp blade against the tight skin behind his balls and slowly
started to make sawing motions with the blade. As the hot blood
flowed over her hand her hot young pussy started to pulsate with
powerful contractions making her dizzy with excitement. Her face
went red showing how much cutting off his balls was turning her on
as she felt the wonderful feeling of his revolting balls start to
come off in her lovely hands as she sliced her knife through his
scrotum. Millie's breathing become slow and deep as she finally felt
what she had longed for 5 years since she was 6 years old was to
feel the joy of cutting off the balls of a boy. Her pussy was now on
fire as she put both of his balls into her mouth and bit down hard
through them. As she crushed them with her teeth she couldn't stop
herself from pushing her hands into her own knickers and bringing
herself to an almighty orgasm.
After her orgasm she grabbed hold of his nasty little cock and
pulled it hard towards herself and slowly with great joy sliced it
off and stuck into her mouth like a lollypop and sucked it. She then
started to force her teeth through it and ate it all. After she had
finished her meal she looked down at her ex-boyfriend as she stood
to walk away and laughed sadistically and punched him hard in the
face and then turned and left him. |
Christine XIV: Christopher's Return | TG, MINOR | Johnny has a big surprise for Christine when he arrives home, but when that surprise turns out differently than planned, Christine makes a big decision. The Elliot’s and Reynolds all go on their annual December trip to Florida, this time taking Adam with them. It was a good trip for all but two of their group, who were miserable. | ` Christine XIV Christopher’s Return `
Johnny was to arrive home Thursday afternoon, the day before the start of the
labor day weekend. He had phoned to tell me he had a belated birthday present
for me that he was sure I would like. He said that he had wanted to present it
to me in person, which is why he hadn’t mailed it to me. I had no earthly idea
what the present might be, but I knew if it came from Johnny it would be
special.
Johnny had been doing very well in the Navy. He was on shore now, going to
college in California. The plan was for him to get his commission as soon as
he had his degree, and then go right into training as a Seal. I was so proud
of him. My brother, a Navy Seal. I didn’t understand all the steps he had to
go through to get to his goal, but I had no doubt that he’d get there, and in
record time.
“I wanted to make this a total surprise for you,” he told me after he’d been
home for a few hours, “but I can’t. The truth is, I’ve arranged to take you to
a doctor who is willing to do an orchiectomy on you, but I’ve got to try and
get Dad’s consent before we go.”
“Don’t bother even trying,” I answered darkly. “We’ve tried a thousand times,
and he’s not gonna budge. I’m just gonna have to do it the hard way, after I’m
eighteen.”
“How’s Josh feel about that?” Johnny asked.
“Josh says it makes no difference to him ‘cause he’s not gonna touch me till
we’re married anyway. But he hates that I have to go through all the hair
electrolysis and throat surgery when it really isn’t necessary.”
“Are you telling me that you and Josh aren’t... well, I just assumed...”
“That’s what I’m telling you, Johnny. Just ‘cause I’m a little confused with
my body parts doesn’t mean I’m... well never mind. But no, we’re not.”
There was a rip-roaring fight that night in the Elliot house. This time I
wasn’t listening from my vantage point at the head of the stairs, I was in on
it. Johnny informed my father that I was going to lose my family jewels this
weekend, with or without his permission. “You can’t do that.” my dad said
smugly.
“Don’t be too sure,” Johnny said back. “Unless I’ve missed something, my birth
certificate says ‘John Elliot,’ same as yours. And Christine’s says her
father’s name is John Elliot. All the doctor needs is a consent form signed
and notarized by John Elliot.”
“You can’t get away with that,” Dad challenged. “You’ll go to jail. Are you
willing to go to jail and ruin your life to get your brother castrated? And
besides, who’s gonna pay for it?”
“No, I’m not willing to go to jail to get anyone castrated. But I’m willing if
you’re determined to send me, if it’ll mean I’ve helped my sister avoid a lot
of painful surgery and hormone treatment she doesn’t need. As for the money,
don’t worry about it. I’ve been saving. I’ll pay for it. Come on, sis, it’s
time for bed. We’ve got a plane to catch early in the morning.”
“I can’t let you do it, Johnny,” I said as we climbed the stairs, me on his
shoulders.
“It’s already set up,” he answered. “We’ve got an appointment in Atlanta
tomorrow afternoon at three.”
I heard the rumblings and raised voices as the argument continued, but I
didn’t bother going to the head of the stairs to listen. Mom had convinced Dad
to allow me to go even if he didn’t sign the papers, so I was pretty sure of
the outcome. There was no possible way that Dad would ever sign his consent
and I knew it; but after a quick call to Dr. Reynolds he was assured that at
least I wasn’t going to be cut by some butcher so he would at least not stand
in our way.
Dr. Chalmers was known throughout the medical community to be sympathetic to
TG’s. He had performed hundreds of orchiectomies and dozens of sex
reassignment surgeries. He was known to do excellent work, though his ethics
were never pure and without blemish. Dr. Reynolds had referred Johnny to him
when Johnny presented his plan. My doctor had checked him out thoroughly and
satisfied himself that I would receive excellent care without a lot of the
legal hassles that usually accompany such procedures, especially on a child.
The procedure would be done in his office which would not only reduce the
cost, but also avoid a lot of inquisitive eyes and embarrassing questions.
On the long flight to Atlanta, Johnny and I did a lot of talking. I told him
about the past year and how happy I’d been, and that he’d been right about
Josh and me. “I don’t know exactly when I realized it,” I said, “but one day I
just realized that Josh and I are in love.”
“You’re still pretty young to be in love,” Johnny observed. “I really envy
you, Princess.” He had started calling me ‘Princess’ as soon as he got home on
leave, and I loved it. Then I told him about the past two weeks of school and
how everything had changed when I’d been assigned my new teacher. “She’s
really a witch,” I hissed. In that department Johnny didn’t seem to have any
more wisdom than our dad.
Johnny showed me a picture of a brand new red Corvette. “Now that I’ve been
accepted to Seal school, I’ll be ordering one. It’ll be delivered in
California as soon as I graduate,” he told me. He’d had to finance almost
every penny, but as he said, he had nothing else to spend his money on. “And
I’ve wanted a ‘Vette since I was 12,” he added. I was still into cars a
little, even if I was a girl, so I appreciated his desires and I was excited
for him. I knew he could have used the money he was spending on my castration
toward a down payment, but I didn’t say anything.
By the time we arrived at Dr. Chalmers’ office, his patients and most of his
staff, except for one trusted nurse, had left for the day. I was very nervous,
but Johnny assured me that I had nothing to fear. I had put on my favorite
blue and white dress, white socks with blue lace trim, and white shoes. Johnny
told me I looked at least 14 except for one thing: I had no breasts at all.
“That’ll soon be remedied,” he promised me. The doctor was very short and to
the point. With hardly a glance, he told me to strip naked and put on the
hospital gown that was on the table, then climb aboard. I did it as quickly as
I could while Johnny signed some papers and paid his money.
“By the way,” Johnny said with a grin as the nurse placed my legs in the
stirrups and strapped them in, “Dad signed the paper this morning. I knew he
would when it came right down to the wire and he realized I was serious.” I
didn’t answer.
There were a lot of HMMM’s and Ohhh’s, Oooo’s and Ahhh’s as the doctor
examined me. He checked out my genitals so thoroughly I was beginning to think
it was the first set of intact genitals he’d ever seen in his life. He poked
at my stomach, then stuck a finger up my butt so far I thought I was feeling
his elbow disappearing inside me. “Are you sexually active, young man?” he
asked.
“No, sir,” I replied. “And it’s ‘young lady.’”
“Ah, yes. Sorry, I forgot. Have you ever had a sexual experience?”
“No, sir.”
“Never had an orgasm?”
“No, sir.”
“Do you know what an orgasm is?”
“Yes, sir. I’ve been studying all about the development of boys and girls so I
would know what to expect.”
“Ever have a wet dream?”
“No, sir.”
After a little more examining, the doctor sat down and began writing. Then he
went into the other room and we heard him on the phone. “He’s not gonna do
it,” I said to Johnny, almost in tears. I could see Pinocchio crumbling and
disappearing before my eyes.
“He’ll do it,” Johnny assured me. “Money talks.” We heard the door open, and
the doctor was back.
“I’ve just been speaking to your Dr. Reynolds,” he told us. “Between us, we
have decided that an orchiectomy would be inadvisable at this time. Christine,
you have already begun the very first stages of puberty. According to the
charts I received from Reynolds, your genitals have grown considerably in the
past three months. There are a few hair follicles beginning in your groin, and
your erections are almost instant whenever you are touched. You don’t feel
them or see them because of the drugs you’re taking, but the reaction is still
there. You are in an absolutely perfect position developmentally for a very
successful SRS operation. I would like you to go home and discuss this with
your doctor and your parents. If you can possibly raise the money, we can save
you some by doing the entire procedure in one surgery. It’ll have to be in the
hospital of course, but it will save you the trauma of two surgeries, and it
will all be over in a week or so. If you decide to proceed, I can book an OR
in the hospital as soon as you give me the go-ahead.”
“How much more will it cost?” Johnny asked.
“A lot more than a sailor makes,” the doctor replied. He sat down and did some
figuring, then showed Johnny the results. Johnny gasped.
“Why don’t we just do the castration?” I pleaded. “Or better still, just cut
everything off.”
“Whatever you do, don’t do that,” the doctor said. “When we do SRS, we don’t
cut anything off. We re-use the tissue to form your new organs. Without your
penis and scrotum, it’s almost impossible to form the new parts. That’s why I
feel it’s so perfect right now. Your genitals have grown out of proportion to
the rest of your body, so there’s lots of tissue to do a really great job. But
if you insist, I can go ahead with the orchiectomy.”
“Not yet,” Johnny said thoughtfully. “There might be a way.”
“There’s no way, Johnny,” I protested. “Dad would have a heart attack if you
showed him that kinda money. At least if I have the castration, I can delay
the rest till I can raise my own money.”
“I can see where this is going,” Johnny said to me in an accusing tone. “You
or Josh, or both of you, will forget about college, maybe even quit high
school, to raise the money for that surgery. That’s not gonna happen, li’l
sis. We’ll raise the money. Go ahead and get dressed. Thanks, doc, we’ll be
calling soon.”
I didn’t say much on the flight home. In my mind Johnny had set me up. He had
me naked and prepped and on the table, then he’d pulled the dream out from
under me. And the doctor had said I was already in the beginning stages of
puberty. Now the clock was really ticking, and I was alone.
Before we got off the plane, Johnny shared with me his idea. “I’m gonna cancel
the order for the ‘Vette,” he stated. “The financing is already approved, so
I’ll just use the money for the medical bills. I can’t get it right away, but
within the next year or so, soon as I can show the finance company some good
grades, I should be able to get it.”
“You can’t, Johnny,” I said. “You’ve wanted that car as long as I can
remember. I’d always hate myself if you did that. And besides, Dr. Chalmers
said that unless Dad cooperates, the only way we can do all that surgery would
be if we did it in his office, and that’s just too risky.”
“We’ll find a way. But don’t worry about that ‘Vette. After all, it’s just a
car. There’ll be others.”
As soon as we were home, the battle between my brother and my father got so
intense that Johnny left early to go back to California. He told me not to
worry, that he would raise the money somewhere. I tried to be cheerful and
assure him it would be all right, but I don’t think I was very successful. And
now Dad was starting to get more determined to convince me that I was going to
be his son again. He said that once puberty got going in a big way, that I
would look and sound ridiculous in a dress. I was already forming visions in
my head, and as visions usually are, everything was exaggerated so that I did
indeed look almost obscene, with brawny hairy legs, huge muscles, and a deep
bass voice.
I didn’t seem to care about anything then. I had managed to rise above all the
crap that Miss Banks handed me at school, but now I didn’t care. I began
bringing home school work with less than my usual good grades. I had even lost
interest in my studies with Professor Chambers. As Thanksgiving approached,
Dad told us that Uncle Dan and Aunt Julia were taking Gail to Grand-dad’s
house, but that we weren’t invited. That was the final straw. “Not to worry
though,” he said. “We’ve been invited to the Reynolds’ for dinner.”
“I’m not going,” I said. “I got some things I’ve gotta do.”
“You’ll go if I say you go,” Dad said sternly. I didn’t answer. I went to my
room and closed the door, as I had done so much lately. I turned on my
computer and logged on, then went immediately to the web site I’d been
visiting more and more lately.
“What in the world has happened to you?” Mom demanded on Thanksgiving morning.
I had refused to get dressed, and it was almost time for us to leave. “Do you
have any idea how much you’re hurting your father? And what about the
Reynolds? They all love you so much, and now you treat them like this. If you
don’t show up for dinner with us, what are they gonna think?”
“Are there any stores open today?” I asked, ignoring her questions.
“What kind of stores?” Mom asked. “What are you up to, Christine?”
“Clothing stores, Mom. I got some money saved and I need some clothes. I gotta
get some underwear an’ some other things.”
“Christine, you’ve got drawers full of underwear. You’ve got more clothes than
three girls your age.”
I tried to fight the tears, but they were sneaking out anyway. “Promise to
take me to a store an’ I’ll go to the Reynolds for dinner. Otherwise I’m not
going.”
“Of course I’ll take you to the store, honey. But I wish you’d tell me what’s
so all-fired important that you have to go today.”
“It can wait till tomorrow if that’ll make it easier. But I’ve got to go this
weekend. When I go back to school on Monday I’m gonna be Christopher.”
Mom put her hands on my shoulders and looked me in the eye. That was too much.
I started to cry harder. “Why, honey?” she said quietly. “Is that what’s been
bothering you? Do you want to be a boy again?”
I nodded.
“Are you sure?”
I nodded again. “I can’t do this any more, Mom.” I cried. “Dad hates me; I’ve
been messing up the whole family. We’re not allowed to go to Grand-dad’s
because of me. Dad and Johnny aren’t speaking, and he even left before his
leave was over. My teacher thinks I’m a freak. The kids at school hardly talk
to me at all. I just can’t do it any more, Mom!”
“You can’t NOT do it either, sweetie,” Mom said. “Dr. Reynolds warned you that
this was not going to be easy. But don’t you remember how miserable you were
as Christopher? You were never happy.”
“I’m not exactly jumping for joy now either,” I blubbered. “I just can’t take
it any more!”
“As for Johnny,” Mom said, “things there are pretty normal there. Why do you
think he joined the Navy instead of going to college?”
“I thought he wanted to,” I said.
“He did want to. But it was WHY he wanted to that you don’t know. He and your
dad haven’t got along since he was twelve years old. He joined the Navy
because that’s the only way he could get away from here. Your father wanted
him to help in the business, but Johnny knew that wouldn’t work. They have
always fought about everything. They both know that, Christine. They love each
other, but they can’t live together or work together, and they know it. You
didn’t drive him away, Honey.
“As for your grandfather, I think you’re being unfair to your dad there. If he
wanted to go there for Thanksgiving, he would go. You should know your dad
well enough for that. He told me last night that he was GLAD we weren’t
invited. He said he’d rather go to the Reynolds where he knew he was welcome
and that you’d be happy. You’re hurting your dad a lot more by being unhappy
than by anything you’ve done or will do. Now please, Christine, give your
mommy a hug and let’s get you dressed. Please? For me?”
“Will you take me to the store tomorrow?”
“Yes, Honey, if you still want to go after we’ve talked about it and you’ve
had the night to think about it, I’ll take you to the store in the morning.
That’s a promise.”
I guess I should have felt better then, but I didn’t. I had made my decision
and I was determined to stick to it, but it wasn’t going to be easy. I had one
more day to live as Christine, and then I was going to kill her forever. I
would try it for a year or so, and if I couldn’t make that work for me either,
I would kill Christopher too. Of course I didn’t tell Mom that part.
I was still prancing around in my underwear when I heard the back door open
and someone come in. “That’ll be Gail, all ready to go,” Mom said as she
pulled a pretty party dress out of my closet.
“Gail?” I echoed. “Gail’s coming with us?”
“Yes, dear, I thought you knew. Gail is coming with us today. She had a
horrendous fight with her dad yesterday. She wanted to go where you go. She
said it would be no fun at your Grand-dad’s without you, and her mother agreed
with her.”
There was a light knock on the door, and Gail stepped in wearing one of my
favorite blue dresses. I had outgrown it and given it to her two months ago.
Gail always seemed to know exactly what to do and when to do it. She was
absolutely beautiful. “Gail?” I said, somewhat stunned. “Man, you’re so pretty
in that dress.”
“Not as pretty as its last owner,” she said. “But I think it looks pretty
good, don’t you?”
“You’re gonna get a whole closet full to go with it tomorrow,” I told her.
“All those pretty clothes... they’re finally gonna get to be worn on a REAL
girl.”
“What’re you talking about?” she said. Then I could see the lights come on in
her head. “No, Christine. NO! You can’t. Don’t even joke about that!”
“You see anyone laughing? I’ve got to, Gail.”
“No you don’t. I’ll be your sister full time. I’ll move in with you and be
your sister. My dad doesn’t like me any more anyway. PLEASE don’t do it.”
“We’ll talk about it later,” Mom said. “Everyone’s all worked up and tense,
and in no condition to make any decisions about anything. Let’s just drop it
for now and go have a good time with friends who love us. We’ll talk later.”
We did drop it. Mom and Gail both set out to get me dressed. They paid
particular attention to every little detail that I might have been inclined to
ignore. When we climbed into the car, I was as perfect as a little girl could
be. I was wearing the necklace and earrings Josh had given me last Christmas,
my all time favorite blue party dress with sheer white tights. My hair was
shining like satin, with a velvet hair band that matched my dress, and Mom
even put just a hint of lipstick and blush on me. Oh well, I thought, no harm
in looking my very best just one more time. Tomorrow I would be wearing briefs
and jeans. UGGHHHHH!
“Actually, that’s a very good idea,” Uncle Robert said when we told him of my
plan. “But I’d like to make a suggestion that will hopefully help us all
decide this matter once and for all.”
“You like the idea?” Dad said with no small amount of surprise. “But I
thought... I mean, you said...”
“I said that in my opinion Christine is definitely a girl. But I can’t feel
what she feels. I like to think I can get close, but when all’s said and done,
only she knows exactly what she feels. Maybe this will help her know for
sure.”
“I already know,” I said stubbornly. “But it’s just too selfish. My
grandfather says I’m a selfish, spoiled little brat. Sometimes I think my dad
thinks so too. I don’t wanna be a spoiled little brat. And I don’t want to be
selfish.”
“Christine,” Uncle Robert said in his best psychologist voice, “no one thinks
you’re selfish. And even if you are, that’s ok. It’s your job as a child to
express your feelings and tell us what you want. It’s our job as parents to
understand our children and make them happy, if we possibly can. You have
nothing to feel ashamed about, Christine. You can’t help the way you feel.”
“So what’s your idea?” Dad asked.
“Well, we’re all going to Florida for a week this year, right? So why don’t we
leave Christine home and take Christopher? He can be a total boy for a week,
without embarrassment or confusion. It wouldn’t really be fair to the other
kids at school for a boy to appear one day where there used to be a girl. If
you think they’re giving you a hard time now, Christine, you have no idea how
tough they’ll be if you start changing your gender during school. By giving it
a try while we’re away, perhaps we can all settle a few things in our minds,
and in a way that we can make a more informed decision without a lot of
turmoil. No one around here ever has to know.”
Everyone liked the idea, so we spent the day planning our trip. I was to be a
total boy, in every way, from the time we left home until we returned a week
later. Mom would buy me some new clothes, starting from the skin outward. Only
those with a need to know would be informed; everyone else would just think
that Christine was away for a week, just as we had planned.
Mrs. Williams had gone to work for my dad at the computer store. It turned out
that she was an office manager, which in actual fact meant that she had been
doing the job of a vice president for the company she’d been working for, but
being paid as a secretary. So when I started traveling with the band last
summer, Dad wanted more free time so he had hired her at considerably more
money than she’d been making to run things when he was away. She informed us
that as much as she’d like to go to Florida, she would rather see my dad go
provided that we could take Adam. Dad certainly had no problem with that, so
for the first time in a long while, the boys would outnumber the girls.
I went shopping with Mom the day after Thanksgiving, as she had promised. She
led me directly to the boys’ briefs, but I turned them down. I wanted boxer
shorts, I told her, like Josh wears. So she bought me four pair of boxers, all
with different patterns on them, all very masculine. She bought me some
athletic socks, two pair of really nice stylish boys’ shorts and a pair of
jeans, a new bathing suit and five T-shirts. There was a new pair of sneakers
and two pair of very boyish pajamas, and even a very heavy gold neck chain
like the one Josh always wore. Josh had already said that he had lots of
clothes he had outgrown I could wear, but Uncle Robert said I also needed some
clothes of my own. I was a little afraid that Mom would want to buy items I
could still wear if Christine returned, but she said no, what I wore for the
week should be totally masculine.
I was taken off all medications, which resulted in my dormant little wee-wee
springing to life almost instantly. By the time it was time to go, I was
having erections every morning and several times throughout the day. I was so
embarrassed I was already wondering about the wisdom of what we were doing. I
asked Mom to cut my hair, which was probably the hardest part for me. She
didn’t want to cut it all off, but I was determined. I wanted my ears
showing... I wanted to feel the wind on my head. I wanted it all off. “It’s
taken you over two years to grow that beautiful hair, Christopher,” she
reminded me. “Boys have long hair now too, you know, especially hair as
beautiful as that.”
“I don’t care,” I asserted. “I want it all off.”
“Just wait a second,” Dad said. “I think you need to think this through, son.
You owe some people, and your hair is a part of it. I agree it would be better
next week if your hair was short, but what if Christine comes back after the
week is over?”
“She’s not comin’ back,” I said with determination.
“And what about Mr. Marks?” Dad reminded me. “Don’t you think he deserves more
of an explanation than to just be presented with a short-haired boy next time
he sees you? H’s invested a lot of time and money in you. I think you owe him,
Chris.”
“I’ve got an idea,” Mom said after thinking about it. “It may be a little
unconventional, but not totally unheard of. I can gather your hair in one
large ponytail, but lower down. On boys I think they call it a rat tail, but
it’s the same as a girl’s pony tail except that it’s gathered lower down on
your head. That way it’s out of the way, but it’s still there. I’ll have to
thin it a bit, but it will soon thicken out again if you need it long, or we
can cut it all off if that’s what you decide.”
“As usual, you’ve got it covered, Susan,” Dad said. “How about it, champ?”
“A ponytail?” I said doubtfully. “I guess... if you think...”
“I’ve seen them before,” Mom said. “Frankly I don’t like them as well as full
and flowing hair, but I think it’d be better than cutting off all that
beautiful hair prematurely.” And so began the formidable task of thinning my
very thick hair and then gathering it into a rat tail at the bottom of my
skull. I really didn’t like the result, but it sure beat losing all that hair.
The morning we were to leave, Mom took all my girls’ clothes and put them away
in my closet and dresser drawers. She helped me pack a more than adequate
wardrobe of all my new clothes, plus several pairs of shorts and other
articles donated by Josh. Then she stripped me naked and handed me a pair of
white boxer shorts with green stripes. Next came the jeans - very plain
Levi’s, and a dark blue T-shirt, a pair of white socks and my new sneakers.
She removed all my nail polish and cut my nails in a much shorter, more
masculine style.
When Josh saw me, he had a look on his face that I couldn’t describe if I live
to be a hundred. It wasn’t shock, or surprise, but... well, he just looked at
me differently than he’d ever done before. “You look... err... nice,
Christopher,” he stammered. I didn’t know what to say to him, so I just
thanked him for the compliment. Mom had already told me that all the other
kids had been coached pretty thoroughly, and that there was to be no reference
whatsoever to the fact that I had spent the past year and a half as a girl. It
was as if Christine had never existed.
Uncle Robert had managed to find a very luxurious twelve passenger van to
rent, which was more than adequate for our needs. Once again Uncle Dan had
decided not to go. It seemed that more and more of the time, Uncle Dan was
avoiding family type activities. Of course he was somewhat caught in the
middle of the feud between my dad and their father, but that didn’t help
Gail’s feelings much. She was quite depressed as we got ready to go: her
father wasn’t coming and neither was her twin sister Christine.
I tried really hard to have a good time in spite of how awkward and silly I
felt, and if I do say so myself I did pretty well. There were times though,
like when we stopped for lunch on the drive down I-95. We all went scrambling
into the restaurant like any other happy bunch of kids out of school a week
early and on their way to Disney World, and I went bounding right into the
Ladies’ washroom. Amanda burst out laughing and I stood there wondering what
the joke was. Gail was covering her mouth trying hard not to laugh when a lady
come out of a booth and said rather sternly, “Young man, I think you took a
wrong turn.” At first I ignored her, thinking she was talking to someone else.
And then I remembered. God, how could I have made such a mistake? “Oops!” I
said stupidly. “Sorry, Ma’am.” I turned red-faced and joined Josh and Adam in
the Mens’ room.
It was an honest mistake, my dad said, and no harm was done. But it certainly
did some serious damage to my dignity. Everyone laughed about it until they
saw that I was not amused, then Uncle Robert said sternly that the incident
should be forgotten.
In the washroom wasn’t any easier. I had never been able to use those darned
urinals comfortably, and my time as Christine had made it no easier. At school
we had no choice: if we were caught using a toilet for anything other than
serious pants-down pooping, we were in serious trouble. At least here I had a
choice, so I went into a booth and closed the door, then fished out my wee-wee
and peed in the toilet. It felt incredibly weird standing to do it, but I told
myself I would get used to it.
We got settled into the resort in time for a good swim after dinner. Again one
of my old horrors came back. I could not, simply COULD NOT show myself bare-
chested. So Mom told me to wear a T-shirt with my ample boxer bathing suit,
that I probably wouldn’t be the only boy dressed that way. She was right, too.
There were two other boys about my age wearing T-shirts. I ached to ask them
if their reasons were the same as mine, but of course I never got the courage
to speak to them, never mind ask such a personal question.
When bedtime came, the three boys were assigned one king size bed. I was
totally mortified. How in the world could I sleep with Josh and Adam? How
would I get dressed and undressed? Why in the world had I asked Mom for
boxers? If I’d had briefs I could have held my errant penis in check a little
bit; but with boxers it did whatever it wanted, and what it wanted most of the
time was to stand up and make a test tour of those boxers. And I found to my
horror that it had grown more than I had thought. When I noticed that Adam was
wearing briefs, I pulled him away from Josh’s earshot. “Adam, trade underwear
with me? Please?”
“What?” he said a little too loudly.
“SHHHH! Trade underwear with me.” I repeated. “These boxers are embarrassing
me. I mean, when I get a... a...”
“You mean a stiffie? I thought you didn’t get them.”
“I do now, all the time. Will you trade me, please? Just till tomorrow and
I’ll get my mom to buy me some briefs. And don’t tell Josh, ok?”
“Ok,” Adam said with a shrug. “But keep the boxers. I hate ‘em.”
We didn’t lie awake very long that first night. I guess we were tired after
the long drive. I slept on one side, with Adam in the middle and Josh on the
other side. I think Adam sensed that I didn’t want to touch him or Josh, so he
crowded Josh and left me lots of room so that it was almost like sleeping
alone. It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t too bad.
Monday was Disney World day. The Florida sunshine was at its best, the
temperature in the low 80's by early afternoon. Like last year, I would’ve had
a blast wearing a dress, pants, in my underwear, or stark naked. The Disney
park had only one requirement for unbelievable fun: that you be a child
somewhere between 2 and 102. I completely forgot what I was wearing or what I
was trying to accomplish. We were at the gates when they opened at nine, and
we didn’t leave until after the fireworks at ten that night. Then back to the
resort and into bed, then the deep, contented sleep of a totally exhausted
child. It was incredible.
The big poolside party was to be Tuesday night, and we all wanted to go and
stay up late like we’d done last year, so we didn’t go anywhere special
Tuesday . Josh wanted to go golfing with his dad so they planned to get up
early. No one else was really interested, so my dad promised to take Adam and
me fishing while the four girls went shopping and just rested up for the party
and dance. I would have liked to go with Josh and Uncle Robert, but not so
much for the golfing as just to be with Josh. I think Dad recognized that and
discouraged me from even asking. “Besides,” he said, “I’ve been waiting a long
time to take my boy fishing.”
I’ve gotta say we had a great time out on the lake. Dad had made some
inquiries about where to go and what kind of tackle to use, what to use for
bait, and so on. We rented a boat and went to one of the many lakes around
Orlando, and all together the three of us caught over 100 fish, and they were
all big. It was like old times - Dad and I were buddies again. We laughed and
joked, made fun of each other when we caught a small fish or lost our bait -
all the things that fishing buddies do together. We didn’t ignore Adam and he
had a great time too, but all the same the bond between me and my dad got
stronger that day than it had been for a very long time.
The party began about like we had expected. Mom had bought me a cool Hawaiian
shirt which I wore over a pair of really baggy cargo shorts Josh had given me.
There was certainly no girl in this dude as we all headed for the location of
the party. Josh and Adam and I laughed and giggled as we stuffed ourselves
with hot dogs, chicken burgers and barbeque while the girls and adults watched
with some amount of disgust at our silly behavior. I was beginning to think
that perhaps being a boy wasn’t all bad after all. Maybe I’d been too hasty.
Perhaps I could pull off this boy thing. But then the music started, and the
MC started encouraging everyone to dance. With the start of the music came the
start of my memories - memories of the party we’d had last year, or rather the
party Christine had had with the rest of the crew.
I wanted to dance so bad I ached inside. Finally I asked Gail to dance. In our
lessons everyone was taught to both lead and follow because they told us that
even though it was customary for the boy to lead, it was certainly better for
the girl to lead a partner that couldn’t dance than to not dance at all. That
training would come in handy tonight. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time
Gail and I had danced anyway. We did ok, but it wasn’t the same.
When Josh led Amanda to the floor and they began dancing, I found myself
watching their every move. Was he enjoying it as much as he had dancing with
me? Was he mad at me for my decision? Would we ever dance again? “I’m tired,”
Gail announced and shook me out of my reverie. “Can we sit down for a while?”
“Ok,” I said. It had never occurred to me to get tired when I danced - I guess
that was one of the things that made me different: I could dance all night and
still want more. But tonight my heart wasn’t really in it anyway, so I readily
agreed to take a break.
I danced with my mom a few times, and with Aunt Julia and Amanda, but mostly I
just sat and listened to the music. I guess Josh did much the same thing, but
I really didn’t notice. When a slow number started, my mom took my hand and
led me to the dance floor again. Being an interpretive dancer I instinctively
listened to the words to every song whether I was dancing or not. This time,
listening to those words was a big mistake.
“Can’t say we’re lovers, can’t say we’re friends.
Don’t even know if I’ll see you again.
But against your warm body, I felt so alive
You got me over a heartache tonight.
“My heart was broken, my hurt was deep.
I had lost something I wanted to keep.
I was lookin’ for comfort when you caught my eye.
You got me over a heartache tonight.
“Sweet conversation, a drink and a dance
Led to an evening of making romance.
I don’t even care if it’s wrong or it’s right
Cause you got me over a heartache tonight.
Yes, you got me over a heartache tonight
Starting of passion brought me back to life
Oh it might not last, but who knows? It just might
But you got me over a heartache tonight
Yes, you got me over a heartache tonight.”
I had tears in my eyes before the song was over. I didn’t want it ever to end
because I’d have to face everyone at the table. So I told Mom I had to go to
the washroom. I ran into a stall and locked the door, then I sat on the toilet
and buried my face in my arms so no one could hear me crying. Why did I have
to come here anyway? All I could think of was the fabulous time we’d had last
year. I knew that I could never ever be like Josh. I might eventually have a
girl friend, but I could never make a girl feel the way Josh made me feel. It
just wasn’t in me to be a prince. I sat there alone as long as I dared without
having someone come looking for me, then I did my business, got myself
straightened out and joined the others.
Finally around 10:30 Mom suggested that we go back to our rooms. For once she
got no argument from me. I didn’t think I was particularly depressed, but
there was definitely a lack of the “spark” that usually kept me smiling at
times like this.
Back in our rooms, I had a quick shower and got into my pajamas. The sky was
clear - so clear we could see millions of stars. I had always loved watching
the stars, so I got a bottle of coke and wandered outside. I was sitting on a
lawn chair, sipping my soda and looking into the endless sky when someone
pulled a lawn chair close to mine and sat down. I didn’t know who it was, but
for some reason I figured it was one of my parents. When I felt someone take
my hand, I knew it was Josh.
“You mad at me?” he asked.
“No, Josh,” I said without looking at him. “Whatever makes you think I’m mad
at you?”
“Well, you haven’t hardly said a word to me all day. And tonight I was hoping
we could dance together.”
“I’m a boy, Josh,” I answered. “Boys don’t dance together, haven’t you
noticed? Everybody laughs when boys dance together.” I looked at Josh for the
first time, and he had tears in his eyes. Josh, my hero, the strongest boy on
the planet, was crying.
“There’s nobody here to laugh now,” he whispered. “I can still sing, if you
can still dance.”
“I’d feel silly.”
“I don’t think so. I saw you crying, Christopher. I know why you were in the
bathroom so long. Dance with me? Please?”
He didn’t wait for a refusal, he just took my hand and pulled me out of the
chair. I didn’t resist. He put that incredibly warm, strong arm around me and
started to hum that same song that had sent me flying to the privacy of a
washroom stall.
Can’t say we’re lovers, can’t say we’re friends.
Don’t even know if I’ll see you again.
But against your warm body, I felt so alive
You got me over a heartache tonight.
“My heart was broken, my hurt was deep.
I had lost something I wanted to keep.
I was lookin’ for comfort when you caught my eye.
You got me over a heartache tonight.”
“I love you, Christine Elliot.” he whispered.
“Christopher,” I corrected.
“Call yourself whatever you want, and dress any way you like, you’ll still be
Christine to me, the prettiest girl in the world. And if I never see Christine
again, then I’ll just have to learn to love another boy, ‘cause I can’t live
without you.”
“We’re just kids,” I said as Josh’s tears streaked down his face. “Mom says
we’ll have dozens of ‘can’t do without’ loves before we’re through. She says
you’re only 12 and I’m only nine, and we can’t possibly know for sure.”
“Do you believe that?”
“No. But if I’m gonna be a boy...”
“If you’re gonna be a boy, you’re gonna be a gay boy, and so am I.”
“Your dad says we can’t DECIDE to be gay or not, we just are.”
“Then I just AM. My dad’s pretty smart, but he doesn’t know everything. And
neither does your mom.”
Without even realizing it we had stopped dancing and sat down on the lawn
chaise, me positioned between Josh’s legs, his arms wrapped around me, my head
nestled on his chest. “I had a long talk with my dad on the golf course
today,” he told me. “If he knew I was telling you about it, he’d kill me. But
I’m sorry, I can’t help it. We’re not supposed to say anything at all to you
about being a girl this week, but that’s just not fair. I think you need to
know what’s going on.”
“Going on?” I questioned. “What do you mean?”
Josh was quiet for a minute or two. I could tell he was thinking; probably
deciding if he dared tell me what was on his mind. But I also knew Josh, and I
knew that he would not keep anything from me if he knew it would help me. “Dad
told me he thinks you’re pretty unhappy,” he said finally. “He said this might
be the best thing that ever happened... I mean, you spending the week as
Christopher with your parents here watching. He said any fool can see that you
are different.”
“Mom said it’s only natural,” I answered. “She said I’ve spent so long now as
Christine it’s bound to feel strange, especially with you and your family
‘cause you never knew Christopher till this week.”
“That’s true,” Josh agreed. “But I told my dad, and he agreed, that it’s more
than that. I mean, you’re just plain different. It isn’t so much your looks or
what you do, it’s just... well... you seem so unsure of yourself.”
“Christopher always was,” I told him. “When I was Christopher I was afraid to
meet people my own age ‘cause I knew before I met them that we’d never get to
be good friends. I was always more comfortable with Gail, and that didn’t help
my popularity any.”
“I dunno about all that, Christopher,” he said as he fought tears again. “All
I know for sure is I can’t stand to see you like this. Your smile is gone, you
don’t ever sing any more, and whether you realize it or not, you were always
singing. I mean, ALWAYS.”
There was so much more I wanted to say, so much more I wanted Josh to tell me,
but just then our mothers called us in, saying that it was way past our
bedtime. When we got to the bedroom Adam was already fast asleep, so we
crawled in on either side of him. Josh dropped off to sleep almost
immediately, but I couldn’t sleep. I heard voices from the other room so I
strained to make out what they were saying.
“I think he’s pretty unhappy,” I heard Uncle Robert say.
“I’ve noticed that too,” my dad answered. “I fully expected him to be so
relieved at being a boy again, with no explanations to give to anyone, no
confusion, no one questioning him. But he’ll come around.”
“I’m not so sure,” Uncle Robert countered. “How was he in the boat today?”
“About the same. I think he enjoyed himself, but he wasn’t natural. I think we
both enjoyed it, but... well, I guess the only way I can describe it is to say
there was a tension there that never was before. I guess I’m beginning to
realize what he’s been going through this past year.”
“I’m going to ask you both to do something,” Uncle Robert said. “I’ll be
asking Christopher to do it too, but I don’t want his mind on it this week.
I’ll probably ask him on the way home Saturday.”
“What is that?” Mom asked.
“Come outside,” Aunt Julia called from the patio door. “It’s so peaceful and
warm.”
They all went outside then, so I didn’t hear what it was that Uncle Robert was
going to ask them. Obviously it had something to do with me, but I simply
wasn’t going to find out until the end of the week unless I could get it out
of Mom in the morning, and I didn’t see how I could do that without letting
her know I’d been listening to them. Still wondering and thinking about it, I
fell asleep.
To be continued...
* * * |
Speed Trap | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES | The government has found a way to correct the male-female population imbalance while also solving some traffic problems. | Over time, the male population in my country has begun to greatly exceed the
female population. This is the result of parents favoring sons, and coupling
this desire with genetic prescreening and selective pregnancies & abortions.
In any case the number of frustrated males grew out of proportion, and these
testosterone laden guys were becoming aggressive. This was noted by the
highway & transportation folks as an increase in speeding and the resulting
traffic accidents. It was then that they passed the new traffic safety act.
All cars must be fitted with a small pouch under the driver seat. Males and
females were given different key sets. If a male was to drive, a hatch opened
above the pouch. A sensor must detect his warm testicles, and then the opening
closes to “capture” the testicles into the seat pouch. This was done gently of
course so as not to cause damage or undue pain. More expensive cars had fur
lined and even warmed pouches. One thing that all cars had in common though
was a spring loaded knife blade which could be activated by the police.
In my case it seemed so unfair. I tried to be SO careful. Even a tiny amount
over the speed limit could result in swift justice. I was in a hurry on my way
to the office, and did not notice the new speed limit sign. Suddenly my car
slowed down and coasted to a halt. All cars had been fitted with a remote shut
down, and the local traffic cop had just zapped me. The most beautiful blonde
stepped out of the police car and walked up to my window. I was terrified as
she leaned over the car door, exposing a generous cleavage. But squirm as I
may, the pouch constrictor had my jewels captured.
“You were going just over the limit sir, and I expect you know the rules as
well as the punishment”. I pleaded with her but to no avail. “I can see by the
bulge in your pants that you deserve the judgment” she smiled sweetly. “If you
want one last cum, I suggest you be quick about it. I’ll fill out my paperwork
for a few minutes.” She unbuttoned her blouse so her bra came into full view,
and it was nearly transparent. I unzipped my fly and got to work while she
wrote on the papers attached to her clipboard. “Need a hand there sport?” she
cooed. “Don’t worry, I won’t press the activator until you’ve shot your last”
she said as she reached in with one hand, while now holding a remote control
device with her other hand. I had not been with a woman in months. It didn’t
take long. UNGH and the white cream splattered the console. As it did, her
pretty red nailed finger depressed the red button. NOOOO I cried but it gave
no mercy. SNAP and the pain shot up while the balls slipped down into the
pouch. She let her hand slip off my penis and down into the pouch which now
opened fully. She took out my balls and slipped her hand down into her pants,
slipping them up into her warm & wet vagina. “Ohhh she moaned, this always
gets me SO horny. I guess this is as close as you’ll ever get to cumming in my
coozy.”
After she calmed down she handed me some paperwork. “Here, take this to the
local highway department office and they will switch out your key for a Eunuch
key. Your car will start up again in 15 minutes. By then you should be better
able to drive. Or if you’d like, I can call the local clinic to come get you.
Aren’t you glad we deactivate your car before we deliver the punishment?”
In spite of great caution, a few percent of the male population gets neutered
each year as a result of this program. I guess it does work though. Traffic
accidents are way down, men drive much more cautiously, and the ratio of
breeding men to women is returning to 1:1. As for me, I guess it has reduced
my own frustrations, and I certainly don’t chase skirts any more. I do miss
the exhilaration of orgasm, but the memory is fading.
Jim Fox
jimfoxeu@hotmail.com
* * * |
Playing Lukas Sorensen - Chapter 5 | GAY, NULLIFICATION, MINOR | Matthew learns the secret of mind control. | Chapter 5
Lukas’ father was a tall man. He wore glasses with silver frames and had thin,
white hair, which he raked back over his head. He was nearer to sixty than
fifty, Matthew supposed, and was wearing a dinner suit.
‘Matthew,’ he said, coming forward. ‘It’s so good to see you again.’
He held out his hand and Matthew shook it.
‘Hello, Sir.’
In the sudden panic of his arrival, Matthew had smacked the handle on the
vice, to loosen it, and jerked Lukas’ runner off the edge of the bench. He had
gripped Lukas around the waist and pulled him forward, and down, lifting him
first, but not enough. The padlock had wedged in the vice, and Lukas’ balls
were trapped there. His legs were hanging down, but his arse was held
backwards and up, while Matthew kept pulling him forward and down. Lukas’ head
collapsed onto Matthew’s shoulder, his hands slipping down Matthew’s back as
they tried to grip something. Matthew heard a whimper, but had kept pulling,
in a panic, because he could hear the rattle of the garage door opening. And
he had kept pulling him till his hands slipped from Lukas’ waist.
Lukas was suspended, like a bridge, his balls at one end, his head on
Matthew’s shoulder at the other.
Matthew gripped his waist again and lifted him as high as he could, though
Lukas’ body was trying to swing toward him.
The padlock snapped out of the vice and Lukas’ swung forward all of a sudden.
His genitals slapped against Matthew’s mouth, his balls hitting Matthew’s chin
with the weight of the padlock behind them.
Lukas’ thighs fell inwards.
Matthew lowered him gently, but he sunk to the floor, sitting on his heels,
with his thighs clamped together, and his genitals locked underneath him. He
put a hand in his groin and pressed down, as though he was trying not to piss,
steadying himself with his other hand as he slipped a bit sideways.
‘Here,’ Matthew said, handing him his pyjama pants.
Lukas didn’t move.
He was sucking his thumb!
Matthew pulled him up by his arm and held him, as the bright glare of
headlights fell onto the back wall.
‘Hold onto the car,’ he said. He bent down behind Lukas, stepping his runners
into the pyjama bottoms while Lukas steadied himself on the roof of the car,
his legs shaking, his groin held in a little and his arse sticking backwards.
Matthew was aware of his hair brushing Lukas’ arse, of the smell of soap, and
then he was pulling Lukas’ pants up, and reaching around him to tie them from
behind.
‘Can you do it?’ he said, fumbling, as a dark red Saab rolled into the garage,
feeling the soft warmth of Lukas’ genitals through the flannelette. Lukas
didn’t move. Matthew managed to tie the cord, thankful that he could see
Lukas’ father in the car, could see his head stretched up, in profile,
measuring the distance to the wall, unaware of either Lukas or himself, behind
Lukas’ car, where Lukas’ legs were trembling now, Matthew realised, sending
ripples through his pyjamas.
‘Sorry,’ Matthew said, putting his hand between Lukas’ shoulder blades.
Lukas nodded, his teeth clenched, his whole body beginning to shiver.
‘Are you okay?’
‘I’m cold.’
‘Here, pretend you’re looking for something.’
Matthew opened the passenger door and thrust Lukas into it. He leant over and
opened the glove compartment, took the manual out of it and put it into Lukas’
lap, opening it and saying, ‘Pretend you’re looking for something.’
Lukas nodded and put his hands on the manual.
‘Matthew!’ Lukas’ father said. ‘It’s so good to see you again!’
They shook hands.
‘And do your eyes still contain all the mysteries of interstellar space?’
Matthew offered a tentative smile. He didn’t suppose his eyes had ever
contained these mysteries, though he remembered the old man’s saying that they
did.
His literary allusions.
Old world manners.
Foreign peculiarities.
And he remembered, too, wishing, as a child, that Lukas’ father had been his
father, when that never could have happened.
‘Lukas has been showing me his car,’ he said.
‘Yes. He shook be safe in that, you think?’
Matthew nodded.
‘It has all the biz – brakes and stability controls and one hundred thousand
airbags or some such thing. It’s a cushion, I said to him. You’d be crashing
into a cushion.’
Matthew tried not to smile.
‘You’d have to be an idiot to crash that thing,’ Mr Sorensen said
confidentially, and then he stood back and looked at Matthew. ‘Well, you
certainly aren’t any less handsome, but still a boy I think, like all you
young men nowadays. You’ll come upstairs and have tea with me in a moment.
Yes? Good. I’ll go up to my room and change and then we’ll have a talk, just
like the old days. Lukas!’ he called, calling him Lukash, ‘You make us tea?’
Lukas looked up. He nodded.
And Matthew breathed a sigh of relief.
#
In the drawing room, Matthew sat in silence, listening to the ticking of the
clock on the mantle piece.
The room was warm, too warm, he thought, and too exquisitely furnished to be
comfortable. Matthew wondered how a person could come up with such a
collection of chairs, sofas, tables, vases and paintings, wondering how all of
it had been put together into harmony, the dominant colours being blue and
gold. There was red in the carpet, though, striations of it, and something
like ochre in the wallpaper. The ceiling was a fantastic menagerie of
trumpeting cherubs and clouds, a beatific vision of heaven, he supposed.
Lukas came in bearing the tea tray, with a silver pot and cups and saucers and
an arrangement of cakes and slices. His father followed him, entering from the
hall, and closing the door behind him.
Lukas had put a sweater on in the meantime, a bone one, a fisherman’s sweater
with a round neck and a ribbed pattern, though as he was pouring the tea,
Matthew noticed his pyjama pants gaping a little and wondered what Mr Sorensen
would say if he saw what Lukas had done to himself, thinking, at the same
time, that his father would then know what they had been doing in the garage
together.
His face felt hot.
Lukas handed him the tea, and offered him a piece of cake.
Matthew refused it.
‘And what about this spring weather we’re having?’ Mr Sorensen said. ‘Not very
seasonal, is it?’
‘It’s been pretty cold,’ Matthew said.
‘Too cold,’ Lukas added. ‘And wet.’
‘And what are you doing with yourself, Matthew? What plans do you have for
your future?’
Matthew told him how he had got into the conservatorium, saying that he was
taking a gap year, like Lukas, like most of his friends, telling Mr Sorensen
that Christian was the only one he knew who had started his course.
Mr Sorensen asked Matthew to play for them and Matthew agreed, choosing a
piece of Satie and following this with Chopin’s Valse Brillante in A Minor. He
got up from the piano afterwards feeling both melancholy and diffident, as he
always did after performing.
He sat down on the sofa and turned to Lukas’ father.
‘Lukas said you’ve got a new book out.’
‘Not a new one. A translation,’ Mr Sorensen said. ‘But here, I’ll get you a
copy.’
He walked into his study and returned with a copy of the novel, inscribing it
‘To a dear friend of the family, with love,’ and then told Matthew how he
translated his novels himself, writing first in Danish, and then coming out
with an English version, creating two quite separate novels which were somehow
not synonymous, a Danish and an English one.
The book was called “A Dream to Die With”.
On the cover was a picture of a woman falling backward into tangerine clouds.
Matthew supposed he would have to read it.
He helped Lukas load the dishwasher after Mr Sorensen had left them, reminding
Matthew to call him Lars as he went.
‘Yes, Sir,’ Matthew had replied, only realising what he had said after Mr
Sorensen had gone.
How the hell was he going to call him Lars?
Lukas was putting a cup into the dishwasher.
‘You know,’ Matthew said, ‘I really like your dad.’
‘Yeah, I know you do.’
‘He’s like…I don’t know. I wish my father was like that.’
Lukas shrugged his shoulders.
Matthew picked up an apple and took a bite out of it.
‘What are you eating that for?’
Matthew stopped with his mouth partly open.
‘It’s one of McCady’s apples.’
Does she have her own apples? Matthew wondered, starting to chew again. ‘Well
it’s too late now,’ he said, his mouth still full, ‘I’ve started it.’
* * * |
Bryan's Story, Part 3 | GAY, PENECTOMY | Bryan\'s adventure continues as he meets new friends with similar interests ... | ` Chapter 3 `
Bryan rolled out of bed early the next morning still feeling euphoric about
his experiences the day before. Even though he was positive he wasn’t going to
back out of the surgery, Bryan resisted the impulse to masturbate as soon as
he awoke. He found a long cold shower did manage to make his erection
disappear. He was just toweling his hair dry when there was a knock on the
door. Pulling on the light gauze robe provided by the clinic, Bryan hurried to
the door as he fumbled to tie the belt around his waist. Opening the door, he
found Sam standing in the hall, an old-fashioned doctor’s bag in his hand.
“Sorry to bother you so early,” Sam said, after Bryan invited him inside.
“But, I needed to get a blood sample from you before you had breakfast. You
haven’t eaten yet – have you?”
Bryan assured Sam that he had just finished showering and hadn’t had a chance
to get anything to eat yet. Relieved, Sam suggested Bryan take a seat on the
sofa, wrapped a blood pressure cuff around his patient’s arm and got a new
reading, before tapping a vein in Bryan’s arm and drawing blood. As he was
bending over, Bryan noticed the ID card clipped to the pocket of Sam’s scrub
top. He couldn’t help staring at it –the picture was so different from the way
Sam looked that at first Bryan thought the intern had picked up someone else’s
ID card by mistake. In the picture, Sam had masses of longish dark brown hair
styled in a loose, casual style that made him look a little like Hugh Grant.
He couldn’t help staring from the picture to Sam’s face and back again so much
that Sam noticed.
“I guess I really should get a new ID card made,” Sam chuckled. “Pretty big
difference, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, yeah it is,” Bryan agreed.
Sam self-consciously ran a hand over his cropped and bleached hair, “Even I’m
still getting used to the new me,” he laughed.
“Why’d you make such a drastic change?” Bryan asked. “I mean, it really looks
good on you.”
“Dunno – haven’t you ever wondered what it would be like to make a big change
in the way you look?” Bryan nodded. “Well, same for me. I pretty much wore my
hair like that picture for as long as I can remember. Every time I thought
about changing my style, I got to thinking about what my friends might say and
never tried anything new.”
“So, what made you change your mind?”
“Being here,” Sam said simply, labeling the test tube with Bryan’s blood
sample. “I was going to be away from everyone I knew for a long time. I
decided to go ahead and try something different – I figured if I didn’t like
it, no one back home ever needed to know.”
“Smart idea,” Bryan said.
Sam gave Bryan’s arm a pat as he stood up, “Well, unless something very
unexpected shows up in your lab tests, and I don’t see why it should,
everything’s a go for tomorrow.” Sam snapped his satchel closed. “I’ll be back
here tonight about seven to get you prepped and give you something to help you
relax and sleep.” He held up a hand as Bryan started to open his mouth. “I
know, I know – you don’t think you’ll need it. Believe me, you will – most
patients find it hard to sleep the night before their surgery. We find things
go better for them during recovery if they go into surgery relaxed and well-
rested.”
After Sam was gone, Bryan returned to his bedroom to get dressed. He was in
the middle of brushing his hair when he stopped and stared at his reflection
remembering what Sam had said. He’d often thought about trying a style
different from his usual preppy, middle of the road style. He never did,
though – and pretty much for the same reasons Sam had given. He didn’t know
what reactions even a small change would elicit. At school, Bryan liked being
just a face in the crowd – nothing about him really made him stand out from
the other students. He didn’t brag about his grades. Although he dressed
fashionably – in a preppy style – his clothes never called attention to him or
singled him out from the others.
His best friend Aaron, on the other hand, was almost always the center of
attention. His clothes were bright and always on the cutting edge of fashion –
mostly expensive surfer and skater styles, but still the latest fashion. Aaron
never hesitated to change his hair style dramatically and seemed to thrive on
the attention a new style got him. Bryan remembered the time Aaron had showed
up to school with his hair parted in the middle and dyed in the school colors
or scarlet and purple. Bryan would have been mortified to even show up at
school like that. Aaron seemed to draw energy from the attention he got
following that stunt. Bryan shook his head ruefully and finished brushing his
hair before wandering down to the lobby.
There were several small gift shops in the lobby and Bryan thought he’d send
Kev a little card or maybe flowers for when he woke up. Drifting along the
displays, Bryan wished he knew more about Kev and Simon – it would be easier
to find something they would appreciate. He wandered from shop to shop
aimlessly, nothing really striking his interest. Coming out of the third shop,
he stopped and found himself facing the salon. He stared in the window for
several minutes, chewing his lower lip. He was just about to turn when he
heard a familiar voice call his name. Turning, he saw Simon coming out of the
shop next door.
“Hiya mate,” Simon said, coming over to him.
“Hi, how’s Kev?”
“He’s in the surgery now,” Simon replied. “The doc told me to check in on him
around two this afternoon. He should be awake by then.” He looked from Bryan
to the salon and back again. “Thinking about making a change?”
“Thought I might,” Bryan admitted. “But, I don’t think I will.”
“Oh go on,” Simon urged, a devilish smile playing across his lips. “You should
try a new do for the new you,” he joked. “Be a little daring>”
“Maybe, I have to think about it,” Bryan stalled.
Before Bryan knew what was happening, Simon had a hand on each shoulder and
was propelling him into the salon, “No thinking about it – just grab the bull
by the balls and do it.” He glanced around the waiting room and saw a stack of
style books, guiding Bryan over to the chairs in the corner. “C’mon, you grab
a book and I’ll take one – we’ll find something to make you look cool – and
even hotter than you already look.”
The grin Simon flashed was infectious. Bryan grinned back and soon found
himself turning the pages of a style book. Nothing really grabbed his
attention. They were all great looking – on the fashion models in the book,
but Bryan couldn’t imagine himself wearing one of those styles. Suddenly,
Simon let out a long appreciative whistle and held the book he was going
through up next to Bryan’s face.
“I found the perfect one for you,” Simon crowed proudly. “It’s a versatile
style – you can be as preppy and conservative as you want and still have a
wild side to display when you want.
Dubiously, Bryan took the book from Simon’s hands and examined the pages. He
found himself surprised and intrigued. The model looked so much like Bryan
that he could have easily passed as a close cousin, or maybe even a brother.
The double spread showed a before picture and over a dozen after pictures of
the model wearing a low and tight fade style. The top was long enough to comb
over or even gel and slick down. But, it was cut in such a way that the top
could be brushed forward and up to create a bumper at the front, or just left
spiky. The more Bryan looked at the picture, the more he liked it.
The next thing Bryan knew, he found himself in a salon chair with a cape
around his neck and Simon standing by his side directing the stylist. A little
over an hour later, Bryan was walking out of the salon in a daze sporting the
shortest haircut he’d ever had. He ran the palm of his hand up the back of his
head, marveling at the way the short buzzed hair felt. He kept glancing at his
reflection in shop windows and always finding himself surprised at the way he
looked – Simon had insisted the stylist add some very natural-looking coppery
highlights and keep the style casual. The stylist had certainly done that –
his hair was very casually brushed forward and slightly to the side, with his
bangs pushed up a little in the front.
“Bonzer!” Simon exclaimed, seeing Bryan in the bright lights of the lobby.
“Now, for some new clothes – c’mon, you’re getting a whole makeover, no
arguments.”
Simon steered him into a clothing shop, helping him pick out a couple of pairs
of new shorts – one in khaki and one in a moss brown. Both were shorter than
Bryan had ever imagined himself wearing – Simon claimed they were very popular
in Australia. Simon hunted around and found two long-sleeved shirts that
complimented the new shorts and a couple of tank tops. Bryan spent more than
he would have liked, but found himself excited by the prospect of trying
something so totally out of character for himself. Simon insisted Bryan use
the dressing room to change into his new clothes before they even left the
shop.
Stepping from the dressing room, Bryan felt self-conscious – as short as the
shorts had looked, they appeared even shorter once he had them on. His
swimming trunks covered more of his legs than the new shorts did. Seeing him,
Simon whistled in appreciation and gave Bryan a lewd wink. Simon insisted on
taking Bryan to lunch at the beach-front restaurant.
Walking through the restaurant to the deck, Bryan noticed several patrons –
male and female – turn to give him approving glances. As they took their seats
at their beach side table, Simon took great delight in pointing out how many
people had been checking Bryan out, laughing at the pink flush that showed in
Bryan’s cheeks.
“Get used to people staring at you, mate,” Simon said. “You’re pretty hot to
start with – only problem is no one ever really noticed before. With your new
look, they can’t help noticing you.” He leaned close over the table. “And, you
know what? They like what they see – not that I can blame them.”
Simon lingered over his appetizer, giving passersby on the beach and other
diners more than ample opportunity to turn and send appraising looks in
Bryan’s direction. As he stuffed whole stuffed mushrooms in his mouth, he
watched Bryan gradually grow more comfortable with the stares of strangers who
clearly liked what they saw. By the time their lunch was over, Bryan was no
longer blushing – but he retained an endearingly shy quality that made him
even more appealing.
As they slowly wandered back to the lobby, Bryan suddenly remembered he had
been looking for a small gift for Kev and asked Simon what he would
appreciate. Simon considered the question for a moment and then brightened.
“Kev’s nuts about dolphins,” Simon said. “He’d love anything with a dolphin.”
And so, the two of them invaded the gift shops, browsing the aisles and
display counters. Bryan found a dolphin stature – but was forced to abandon it
when he discovered the price was almost five-hundred dollars. Most of the
other dolphin themed gifts were either equally expensive, or just plain
trashy. He was just about to give up all hope of finding something just right
when a glint of something silver caught his eye. Looking in the direction of
the glitter, Bryan felt his chest go tight with excitement – hanging almost
hidden among pukka shell necklaces was a simple silver chain – and attached to
the chain was a beautiful little silver dolphin. Checking the price, he was
delighted to find it was well within his price range. He had his wallet out in
a flash and excitedly asked the clerk to gift wrap the necklace for him.
He and Simon found Kev in the recovery area looking pretty washed out. He
smiled wanly when he saw the two of them peek around the curtain. Bryan shyly
handed him the little gift box, and watched Kev’s face brighten when he
discovered the necklace nestled inside.
“How’re you feeling?” Simon asked, taking Kev’s hand in his own.
“Like a truck hit me in the gonads,” Kev joked. He looked over at Bryan and
explained, “I’m a big wimp when it comes to pain, and I faint at the sight of
blood …”
“And he’s terrified of needles,” Simon interrupted.
“So true,” Kev grinned. “Anyway, I asked for a general anesthetic. I figured
that would take care of all the pain. I didn’t feel anything during the
operation – and it wasn’t too bad right after I woke up, but now. Wow! It’s
not real bad, but …, well – it’s like the start of a toothache …like a dull
throb that promises to be a real bitch-kitty later on.”
“I’m sure the nurse will be here soon with some pain killers for you,” Bryan
said, his eyes sympathetic and his face pale.
“Hey – don’t go getting scared just ‘cuz I’m a wimp,” Kev assured him. “It’s
not like a white hot unbearable pain. I had more pain after getting my wisdom
teeth out and I was gassed for that one, too.”
“No, no – it’s okay, I promise,” Bryan assured him. “I mean – it only stands
to reason any operation is going to hurt a little for a while. Only …”
“Only, until now you never thought about it,” Kev finished with a rueful
chuckle. “Believe me, neither did I. Until a little while ago, I always kinda
thought I’d wake up and be ready to frolic around on the beach about an hour
later.”
“Yeah, me too,” Bryan admitted.
Kev reached out and touched Bryan’s hair, “Well, don’t you look different! You
were a cutie before – but now, all I can say is fantastic!” He waved Bryan
back away from the bed. “Move back a little – lemme see all of you. Go on,
don’t just stand there blushing – step back.” Grinning bashfully, Bryan
stepped away from the bed and awkwardly turned in a circle when Kev twirled
his finger in the air. Kev grinned lasciviously at the sight of Bryan’s new
outfit. “And what fairy godmother took our innocent young friend and turned
him into such a hottie?”
Bryan laughed, self-consciously, “Simon suggested the changes.”
“Ah – a fairy godfather, then,” Kev laughed.
“I cannot tell a lie,” Simon said, bowing comically. “I found Bryan standing
outside the salon in confusion and took waved my magic wand … and you can see
the end results.”
“Can I ever!” Kev said, admiringly. “He looks like a Christmas sweet just
waiting to be unwrapped – and I’ll bet he’s even more delicious.”
“And not fattening, either,” Simon shot back.
Simon watched the color starting to come back into Bryan’s face as he relaxed
while chatting with Kev. The two of them stayed by Kev’s side until a short,
formidable Mexican nurse ushered them from the cubicle, insisting the patient
needed to rest after she changed his dressings. Checking his watch, Bryan
realized it was already after four o’clock and that Sam would be returning to
get him prepared in just about two hours.
He had just returned to his suite after leaving Simon when there was a knock
on his door. He barely had the door open when Sam pushed a large cart into the
room. Pausing to take a long look at the dramatic change in Bryan’s appearance
since earlier in the morning, Sam added his compliments to the long list of
compliments Bryan had received all afternoon.
Leading the way into the bedroom, Sam immediately went to work stripping the
sheets from Bryan'’ hospital bed and replacing them with a rubber sheet. He
politely declined Bryan’s offer of help, instead asking him to strip down and
climb up on the bed as soon as he was done. Sam removed a covered tray from
the cart and sat it on the bedside table before pushing the cart into the
bathroom. Bryan heard the sound of water running and then Sam returned drying
his hands on a small towel.
As he used the remote control to lift the bed higher and then raise the head
of the bed, Sam explained that Bryan had nothing to worry about. He carefully
folded back the white cloth cover on the tray and revealed a set of
rechargeable electric clippers.
“Okay, if you’ll just place your hands behind your head, we can get started
with your underarms,” Sam said gently, pulling on latex gloves.
“My underarms?”
“Doctor Javier insists on everything from the neck down being shaved before
surgery,” Sam explained, gently lifting Bryan’s right arm. “Until the stitches
come out, you’ll be getting sponge baths – and it’s easier to keep smooth skin
bacteria free.”
Bryan slowly lifted his arms, placing his hands behind his head, interlocking
his fingers. Leaning over, Sam turned the clippers on and went to work shaving
away the dense growth of hair in Bryan’s armpit. Bryan found the vibration of
the clippers tickled his arm pit and had to fight the urge to twitch or pull
his body away. It was only a couple of minutes before Sam was moving around
the bed and working on the other arm pit.
While Sam was busy denuding Bryan’s arm pits, Bryan could feel the familiar
swell in his groin as his cock slowly filled, growing slightly thicker as it
languidly lengthened. By the time Sam has finished clipping the hair from
Bryan’s left arm pit, his cock was beginning to rise away from his body. He
was already beginning to leak precum when Sam ran his fingers through his
thatch of pubic hair.
“Well, well,” Sam said jokingly. “It looks like someone is standing up to get
some attention.” Bryan smiled weakly, unable to meet Sam’s eyes. “Hey, it’s
not a problem,” Sam said, laying a reassuring hand on Bryan’s belly. “Everyone
gets an erection when they’re prepped for surgery. It’s the most normal thing
in the world.” He leaned closer, hi gentle British accent dropping to a
conspiratorial tone. “The truth is, I find it easier to shave down here when
the patient is erect.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely,” Sam said with conviction. “When it’s erect, your penis stays out
of the way – plus, it makes a convenient handle for when I have to move it to
one side or the other while shaving you.” Sam went to work with the clippers,
buzzing away the thick growth of hair between Bryan’s legs. He began speaking
conversationally, “You know, a lot of people – guys, too and not just women –
often trim their pubic patches. I’ve seen everything from just a neatening up
of the pubes, to actual designs shaved into them.”
“You’re kidding!” Bryan said, in disbelief.
“Not at all,” Sam protested. “I’ve seen bushes that were heart-shaped pubic,
triangular-shaped, a couple of squares, and even a pubic Mohawk.” He held his
hand up as if taking an oath. “I swear – this one bloke had a neat one-inch
wide line going from his penis towards his navel. It looked just like a
Mohawk!” By the time he related the Mohawk incident, Sam had buzzed Bryan’s
pubic hair to stubble and was working on his scrotum. He held the tender skin
of the scrotum taut as he lightly ran the clippers over it. He stopped talking
as he took his time, concentrating on his work. At last, he turned the
clippers off and set them down. Patting Bryan’s leg, Sam promised to be right
back and strolled into the bathroom. Bryan could hear him moving around in
there, but had no idea what he was doing.
Sam finally returned, carrying several steaming towels, “Let me know if
they’re too hot for you.” Sam opened the first towel and gently draped it
across Bryan’s chest, taking care to cover both his arm pits. Bryan had tensed
in anticipation of the towel being scalding hot, but it wasn’t. Within
minutes, Bryan’s whole body was wrapped in hot, damp towels. Even his arms
down to his fingertips were covered. Only his erect penis poked out of the
coverings.
After waiting a few moments, Sam began to remove the towels covering Bryan’s
chest and belly, and dropping them on the cart. He squirted a heavy oil over
Bryan’s chest and began slowly massaging the oil into his chest.
“Vitamin E oil,” Sam explained, working his oily fingers up Bryan’s neck and
around his face. “It will soften the remaining body hair and stubble – and the
massage will help you relax.”
Sam worked his fingers expertly back down Bryan’s neck towards his throat. The
massage did feel good to Bryan, but he wasn't sure about it relaxing him. As
Sam’s strong hands kneaded his chest and shoulders, he could feel his penis
twitching and jerking. Sam seemed not to notice as he massaged his way down
Bryan’s torso. Bryan was finding himself feeling calm and almost sleepy as Sam
performed the massage.
Sam skipped Bryan’s groin and began working his way up each of the patient’s
legs. Reaching Bryan’s thighs, Sam again skipped Bryan’s groin, going to work
on each of his arms. At last the massage was over and Bryan found himself once
again swaddled in more hot towels. As the first towels cooled, Sam pulled them
away and began spreading shaving crčme over Bryan’s chest. In moments, his
chest and belly were covered in a layer of foam.
Even though most of his torso was smooth, Sam went to work with the surgical
prep razors right at his collar bone and began removing the foam, leaving
smooth, pink skin in its wake. He slowly shaved each of Bryan’s arm pits
before moving back to his belly. Once again, Sam skipped Bryan’s groin and
went to work on his legs instead. Bryan found that his skin tingled strangely
where it had been shaved smooth – it was almost as if his skin was more
sensitive than it was before.
Finally, Bryan’s body down to his toes and fingertips had been shaved smooth
and Sam turned his attention to his patient’s groin. Sam did take Bryan’s
penis in his left hand as he shaved around it. Bryan tried very hard to remain
absolutely motionless, resisting the impulse to grind his hips against the
rubber sheet. His breath began growing ragged as his excitement grew. He
prayed he wouldn’t ejaculate all over Sam as he was being shaved. Sam turned
his attention to Bryan’s balls, pulling the skin of his scrotum tight before
guiding a fresh surgical prep razor over the scrotum.
Somehow, Bryan managed to maintain control of himself – even though it felt as
if his cock might actually explode. He did wriggle around as Bryan wiped the
last traces of foam from his body with a cool cloth. At last, Sam cleaned up
the cart and turned back to Bryan. He lightly ran his fingertips over Bryan’s
freshly denuded skin checking to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. By that
time, Bryan’s penis was leaking copiously. A steady stream of fluid was
dripping down the underside of his penis, over his smooth ball sac, and
forming a puddle on the rubber sheet beneath him.
Sam slid his index finger up the underside of Bryan’s penis and tickled the
frenum, “Looks like something needs to be done to bring you some relief.” Sam
let his finger slowly slide down Bryan’s penis and back up again. “Perhaps I
should let you have some privacy, so you can take matters in hand – so to
speak.” His slick index finger traced a lazy circle around the purplish head
of Bryan’s dick, making it twitch uncontrollably. His fingers slowly wrapped
around the pulsing shaft and began to work up and down. “I’m sure you’re very
experienced in that department, Bryan. Have you ever had someone else
masturbate you?”
“N-n-no,” Bryan panted, his own fingers twitching.
Sam’s face showed surprise, “You haven’t? No one else has had their hands on
this beautiful dick and gotten to see it in such a perfect state?”
“I – uh, I – ah, uh – I have jerked off with a friend,” Bryan admitted,
surprised to hear the words come out of his mouth. “But, we – we always j – ju
– just do ourselves.”
“Ah, I see,” Sam said, his voice soft and almost hypnotic. He continued to
slowly manipulate Bryan’s penis. With his free hand, Sam began to delicately
trace his way around the crown of Bryan’s dick head. “I was wondering – do you
always get this hard and produce so much lubrication? Or is it because this is
one of the very last times you’ll ever get an erection?” His voice dropped
even lower and Bryan had to strain to hear him. “You do know that, I’m sure.
You might wank off once or twice more tonight, but by this time tomorrow –
well, by this time tomorrow, you won’t have anything left to wrap your fingers
around.”
Bryan’s hands unconsciously moved towards his chest, his fingers circling each
sensitive nipple. Sam grinned and urged Bryan to work his nipples harder in
his low, hypnotic voice. He instructed Bryan to pinch them and twist them as
hard as he could. Bryan’s legs were slowly beginning to pump and twist.
Dropping his hand to the base of Bryan’s beautiful cock, Sam tightened his
grip – using his hand almost like a cock ring to prevent Bryan from
ejaculating. With his other hand, Sam continued to tease the twitching
mushroom head. Beneath him, Bryan’s hips were lifting off the bed as the
physical excitement grew and grew.
“Just think,” Sam whispered. “By this time tomorrow, when you reach down
between your legs you’ll find nothing above your balls but a mound of heavy
bandages – and there won’t be anything under those bandages. And, when those
bandages come off, Bryan – there’ll be nothing down there above your balls but
a thin scar in the middle of a smooth lower belly.”
Bryan was gasping for breath, his head turned to the side and eyes squeezed
tightly closed. Animalistic moans and sighs escaped his parted lips. Sam
strained to hear what the young man was saying, but couldn’t quite make out
the frenzied words. Bryan’s body was lifting up off the bed, his weight
resting on his shoulders. Sam released the pressure on Bryan’s penis and began
pumping it once again. The climax was almost instantaneous – Bryan’s whole
body shuddered as spasms rolled through his muscles in waves. The hot
ejaculate shot spurted straight up, falling in huge drops all over Bryan’s
freshly shaved body with audible plops. It appeared to Sam that Bryan was
experiencing multiple orgasms, one right after another. He continued to slowly
milk the still erect penis in his hand until nothing more emerged.
Finally, Bryan went limp on the bed, oblivious to the pools of semen that were
splattered across his body. Sam disappeared into the bathroom and returned
with warm, damp cloths and gently wiped Bryan’s body clean once again. The
young man seemed to be unaware of anything going on around him for several
minutes.
“Well, there’s just one more thing left to do,” Sam announced. Bryan’s head
rolled listlessly to face him. “All you need to do now is sign the consent
forms.” Sam produced the forms and held out a pen to Bryan’s trembling
fingers.
For several long moments, Bryan stared blankly at the consent papers. Sam
permitted himself a little smile – he knew Javier would be annoyed when Bryan
refused to go through with the surgery. Sam was sure that after an orgasm like
the one Bryan just experienced, he’d surely change his mind. Instead, Bryan
tried to steady his shaking hand and signed his dick away. Sam couldn’t
believe it – even knowing he’d never again have an orgasm like that, Bryan
signed the consent forms to have his penis removed. He watched as Bryan
retreated into the bathroom to shower. Sam shook his head in disbelief as he
removed the rubber sheet and replaced the regular bed sheets.
Sam was putting the finishing touches on the sheets and smoothing them out
when Bryan emerged from the bathroom, a robe pulled tightly around him. The
change in him was dramatic – seeing Sam still in the room, Bryan seemed
embarrassed as he mumbled words of appreciation. Sam did his best to put the
young man at ease. He pulled back the top sheet and then produced an open
backed hospital gown for Bryan to wear. Sam shook his head in amusement when
Bryan retreated to the bathroom to change into the gown.
Returning from the bathroom, Sam insisted Bryan climb into the bed. He
produced two tablets from his equipment on the cart and handed them to Bryan,
watching as the teen dutifully swallowed the tablets. Sam explained the pills
would help Bryan sleep through the night and that a nurse would be
periodically checking on him through the night. Bryan nodded his
understanding, saying he’d lay in bed and watch television until he fell
asleep.
Sam checked to make sure he had everything packed back on the cart and
reminded Bryan he couldn't drink or eat anything after midnight, adding that
he’d prefer Bryan try not to drink much before then, either. He smiled down
and promised he’d see the teen in the morning before the surgery. Sam saw
himself out, insisting Bryan stay in bed and relax.
Bryan didn’t see how anyone expected him to relax on the biggest night of his
life – he’d been waiting for this night since he was fourteen. Even if Sam
hadn’t given him the most intense and fantastic orgasm of his life, Bryan
didn’t think he’d be able to sleep. Raising the head of the bed, he flipped
through the channels on the television, finally settling on a pay-per-view
Jackie Chan All Day Ticket movie. He still didn’t feel sleepy and wondered if
the pills Sam had made him take were going to work at all.
Fifteen minutes later he was asleep.
The next thing Bryan knew, Sam was leaning over him. Bryan had a hard time
focusing his eyes and realized that at some point in the night someone had
removed his glasses. Glancing around, he found an IV line going into his right
arm.
“Good morning,” Sam whispered cheerfully. “We’ll be moving you over to the
gurney in just a few minutes.” He noticed Bryan staring at the IV line. “I
decided to put that in while you were still sleeping – it’s easier on you and
easier on me that way.” Sam reached out and patted Bryan’s face. “Come on, I
need you to try to clear your head for me, okay?”
“Yeah,” Bryan croaked. “I’m awake.”
“Tell me your name.”
“Bryan Smith.”
“Very good,” Sam smiled. “Now, why are you here?”
“For an operation,” Bryan answered.
“What operation, Bryan?” Sam pressed.
“A penectomy,” Bryan murmured.
“And, do you still want to go through with the operation?”
“Yes,” Bryan declared firmly.
“Okay – just making sure before it’s too late,” Sam explained as he pulled a
plastic cap over Bryan’s hair.
Bryan wasn’t sure if it was the drugs or not, but Sam seemed a little
disappointed to hear he still wanted to go through with the surgery. He
decided his mind was still foggy – Sam was probably just following procedure.
There had to be some people who changed their minds at the last minute, and
the young intern had to make sure Bryan wasn’t one of them, he decided. In the
distance, he heard a sharp rap on the suite door and then two male attendants
were wheeling a gurney into the room.
One was a young Mexican with short black hair and deep, sympathetic brown
eyes. Bryan figured the other was American – he had curly light brown hair and
gorgeous blue eyes. Bryan wondered if the resort hired anyone who wasn’t good
looking – so far, everyone he’d seen had been cute. The Mexican deftly folded
back the sheets covering Bryan as the other attendant positioned the gurney
right next to the bed. Bryan was about to scoot over when he found himself
being smoothly lifted from the bed and being deposited on the gurney. That was
better, he decided – he wasn’t sure his arms and legs would have supported
him. The blue-eyed attendant covered Bryan with a crisp, starched sheet before
pulling the gurney away from the bed.
Bryan felt like he was floating down the corridor as the lights flashed by
above his head. There was a dream-like quality to the trip down the halls
toward the operating room. He could feel the gurney smoothly turn in one
direction, and then a little later turn to the other direction. Then, he was
in an elevator. When the doors slid open, the new corridor was all mint green
tile, and the lights above him were harsher. Somewhere, he heard a whooshing
sound and the gurney slowed and finally stopped. Glancing around, Bryan was
surprised to find that he was in a small room not much bigger than a closet.
He had expected to find himself in the operating room. Turning his head to the
right, Bryan found Sam standing by the side of the gurney.
“We’ll be moving you into the operating room shortly,” Sam explained,
producing a hypodermic syringe and plunging it into a Y-shaped connector on
the IV line. “This is a sedative, you’ll feel very weak and maybe even sleepy
now.”
“How long before I go into the operating room?” Bryan asked.
“Very soon now,” Sam replied.
“Do I have time to … I mean, how much time?” Bryan asked.
Sam smiled, “Last night was your last time, Bryan. Even if you were able to
get an erection this morning, I don’t think there would be enough time for you
to do anything about it before the sedative takes effect.”
“The last time?” Bryan asked in wonder. Those three words seemed so final all
of a sudden. Until now, the last time had always been sometime in the future.
There had always been time enough to bring himself pleasure. His head felt
like it was a balloon inflating and becoming very light. Bryan wanted to
assure Sam that if he had just five minutes alone – well, that was enough time
to take care of things. But, the gurney started to move again. Glancing
around, Bryan found the two attendants were now gowned, masked, and gloved.
The gurney had barely come to a stop when Bryan felt himself being lifted onto
the operating table. He was finding it almost impossible to move at all, his
whole body was as limp as a Raggedy Andy doll and just as helpless. In less
than a minute, the sheet covering him and the gown were removed, leaving him
totally naked. The blue-eyed attendant loomed view and Bryan felt his arms
being spread out to his sides. They were strapped down, like he was being
crucified. He felt the attendants lifting his legs and strapping them into
stirrups before spreading them as wide as the stirrups would allow. He had
never felt so helpless in his life. Bryan hadn’t considered just how helpless
he would be during the surgery – the doctor could do anything he wanted and
Bryan was helpless to prevent it. Terrifying images of Dr. Javier choosing to
operate with only a local anesthetic and Bryan hearing, or worse, seeing
everything swam through his drugged brain. A new thought crowded into his
brain – Dr. Javier could easily ignore the contract and cut everything off –
his dick and balls, too. No, that wasn’t going to happen he told himself as he
listened to what was happening around him. Bryan was finding it hard to follow
everything that was happening – only snippets and snatches of conversations
around him managed to penetrate the growing fog in his brain.
“… you’re kidding!”
“… like totally off?”
“… sex change …”
Bryan tried to tell them he wasn’t there for a sex change when those words
penetrated the fog swirling in his brain. They were making a mistake – he
didn’t want that. But, no coherent words escaped his lips. Sam’s face floated
into view, those compassionate eyes offering Bryan a scrap of hope that Sam
wouldn’t let anything bad happen. Something was happening between his legs –
he could just barely feel someone touching him down there, fondling his penis.
“… such a nice pecker …”
“… bet I’d never let someone just chop mine …”
There was a flurry of activity in the room and Dr. Javier’s face loomed into
view. Bryan could hear Javier’s rich, soft baritone greeting everyone, but he
couldn’t really understand the words. Another face swam into view – someone
Bryan had never seen, and then a mask was covering his face and things just
faded out.
The anesthesiologist nodded to Javier – the patient was asleep and stable, the
operation could proceed safely. Javier knew he didn’t really need to check the
catheter Sam had put into place, but his standard protocol was to double check
everything. As usual, Sam’s work was flawless. Bryan’s whole lower abdomen,
including his genitals, was stained a yellow-brown from the Betadine
antiseptic solution. Glancing once at the surgical tray, Javier saw everything
was laid out exactly as he liked. He nodded his approval.
“Well, our guest of honor is in his place, we’re all dressed up – I’d say it’s
time to get this party started,” Javier joked, holding his hand out for the
scalpel. He glanced over at Sam and tested his preparation by asking him to
describe the steps involved in the dissection of a penis. Sam didn’t hesitate
at all with his answer as Javier bowed his head and pressed the scalpel to
Bryan flesh.
Javier liked working with the British intern – Sam was always well prepared
and eager to learn techniques that weren’t in the books yet. While the basic
techniques of penectomy and other genital surgeries were fairly routine,
Javier and the other doctors at the clinic had far more experience than most
other medical professionals in those areas. With their increased experience,
they had developed some subtle modifications to the surgical techniques that
resulted in improved post-surgical results. Sam knew that Bryan would have a
very thin scar after the operation – it would be an angry-looking red line at
first, but with time, the scar would fade until it was barely noticeable.
Handling the retractors, Sam admired Javier’s technique and hoped he’d be just
as good one day. Javier took his time working, never hurrying so he could
squeeze in an extra procedure or dash out to the golf course. Sam knew a
straightforward penectomy usually took between two and three hours. Under Dr.
Ligenfelder, the German doctor on staff, a penectomy often took less than
that. Javier, however, took his time as long as the patient wasn’t in any
distress. A penectomy under Javier’s knife could take over four hours. The
difference in post-op care and appearance between the work of the two surgeons
was dramatic. Javier’s patients seldom suffered any complications, healed
faster, and had less scaring. If perfect end results took more time, Javier
and Sam were willing to put in the extra time.
Bryan vaguely remembered a mask covering his mouth and nose and then –
nothing. Not even a dream. The next thing he remembered was the sound of
people whispering in the distance. As his brain shrugged off the effects of
the anesthesia, the sounds of whispering grew closer and more distinct. He was
aware of how dry his mouth was, the pain in the crook of his elbow, and a
feeling of discomfort centered in his groin. His legs were spread wider than
normal, and it felt as if there was a pillow between his thighs, keeping his
legs apart.
He didn’t mean to groan as he opened his eyes, but he did. Simon and Kev were
sitting by the side of the gurney and smiling down at him. Bryan managed a
lopsided grin when he recognized them.
“Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty,” Simon greeted him.
“How’s the boy doing?” Kev asked, bending over to kiss Bryan’s forehead.
“Okay,” Bryan rasped. “Thirsty.”
Simon spooned a few ice chips into Bryan’s mouth, insisting he had to wait
until Sam or Dr. Javier checked him out before he could have something cold to
drink. It didn’t take long before Sam appeared, all smiles and solicitude. He
quickly took Bryan’s vital signs before pulling back the sheet to examine the
bandages. He nodded in satisfaction.
“Everything seems spot on,” Sam announced. “We’ll be getting someone to take
you back to your room – there’ll be a nurse on duty in the room for the next
few days. Are you feeling any pain yet?”
“No – not really,” Bryan croaked.
“You will,” Sam promised. “And when you do, let us know right away – we can
give you something to make it more bearable.” Sam’s genial face turned
serious. “I don’t want you to try to tolerate the pain in order to show what a
brave young man you are. You’ll only cause yourself more problems by trying to
play brave – pain can make you move around and put strain on your stitches. Do
you understand?”
“Yeah – I understand,” Bryan nodded. “Can I have something to drink? I’m
really thirsty.”
“How’s your belly feel?” Sam asked. “Any nausea?” Bryan shook is head. “Okay,
you can start out with small sips of water.” Sam held out a drinking cup with
a bent straw. Bryan eagerly sucked on the straw, savoring the feel of the cool
water in his parched mouth. Sam pulled the cup away, chiding Bryan, “I said
small sips to start. We don’t want you getting sick all over yourself.”
“And, we sure as hell don’t want you being sick over us,” Kev joked.
Bryan nodded and took small sips of water. Right now, he’d do anything for a
sip of something cool and wet in his mouth. Finally, he was satisfied enough
to agree to let Sam put the cup down.
“The operation …” Bryan began.
“Went beautifully,” Sam finished. “Not a single hitch – we couldn’t have asked
for a better patient.”
“All I did was sleep,” Bryan pointed out.
“True, and you did that admirably well,” Sam joked. “No blood pressure
fluctuations, at no time did you stop breathing, nor did your heart skip a few
beats. All in all, you were a perfect patient.”
The two attendants who had brought Bryan from his room appeared and asked Sam
if Bryan was ready to go back to his room now. Sam nodded and promised to
catch them up in a couple of moments before excusing himself. Bryan noticed
the blue-eyed attendant kept glancing down at him with a funny look on his
face. But, the attendant never said anything or asked any personal questions
beyond asking how Bryan was feeling. They were just about back to his suite
when Sam jogged up.
It felt good to be back in his room – for one thing, the bed was more
comfortable than the gurney. Simon and Kev made sure Bryan was comfortable
with Simon raising the head of the bed while Kev plumped the pillows and
settled the sheet over Bryan. Sam waited until they were finished and asked if
they could wait in the living room while he had a little talk with Bryan.
Once the door was closed behind the two Australians, Sam turned to Bryan, “I
don’t know if you’ve noticed it yet – but you’re bound to very soon – there’s
a plastic tube snaking over your right leg attached to a collection bag on the
side of the bed. That’s attached to a catheter going up into your bladder. You
need to be careful moving about so you don’t pull on the catheter too much.”
“How long does that have to be attached?” Bryan was concerned he might be
stuck with a catheter for a long time.
“Not long at all,” Sam laughed, as if he could read the young man’s thoughts.
“Your urethra had to be rerouted and the catheter needs to stay in place until
we’re sure the incision there is healing nicely. You really wouldn’t want an
infection down there now.”
“I understand,” Bryan said in a small voice. He had never thought about the
possibility of infection.
“Now, once the catheter is removed,” Sam explained, “you’ll have to sit to
urinate from now on.” Bryan nodded, he already knew that. “Now, the first few
times you sit to relieve yourself might be a little uncomfortable – it might
even burn or be slightly painful. That’s perfectly normal – if the pain is
extreme, or you notice bleeding we want you to let us know about that. You
might even have a little trouble with controlling your bladder at first.
Again, that’s perfectly normal and you’ll quickly learn bladder control again.
With the catheter in place, your bladder automatically empties itself and the
muscles can sometimes get lazy. It’s nothing to worry about – like I said,
it’s fairly routine and everything returns to normal in a very short time.”
“Okay,” Bryan replied, even though Sam could see he was worried about long
term complications.
“Now, for the almost good news,” Sam said, lightly. “I’ve ordered a light meal
sent up – a couple of soft boiled eggs, white toast, and clear tea.” Bryan
wrinkled his nose hearing the meal. “Eat it all and keep it down, and I’ll
sign off for you to order whatever you want for your supper tonight.” He held
out his hand. “Deal?”
“Deal,” Bryan reluctantly agreed, taking Sam’s hand.
“In the meantime, you can have water and an occasional juice,” Sam said, as he
headed to the door. “No milkshakes or things like that until after a light,
bland lunch.” At the door he paused. “I’ll give you a couple of minutes alone
before I let your friends back in.” He winked and disappeared.
Bryan figured everyone had the same first reaction – he threw the top sheet
back and pulled up the hospital gown. He didn’t know what he expected to see,
but all he found was a mass of thick surgical pads and bandages taped between
his legs. He really couldn’t see anything else except the plastic tube coming
from the catheter. He gingerly reached down and laid his fingers on the
bandages, but they were too thick for him to feel anything beneath them.
Sighing, he pulled the hospital gown down and rearranged the sheets moments
before Simon and Kev entered the room.
The two Australians stayed with Bryan through the rest of the day, amusing him
with stories of back home in the Land Down Under. Aside from the occasional
exotic animal sighting, Bryan was surprised to find their lives weren’t all
that different from his own – except, of course, both were in Graduate School
and he hadn’t yet finished high school. Like him, they both enjoyed snorkeling
and the beach, pizza, and old movies.
When the blah lunch finally arrived, Kev threatened to spoon feed Bryan unless
he ate everything on his tray. Simon assured Bryan that Kev would carry out
the threat. At first, Bryan couldn’t stomach the idea of eating the runny,
soft boiled eggs. Kev scooped the eggs into a bowl and broke the toast up,
mixing the eggs and toast.. The renewed threat of spoon feeding was enough to
make Bryan eat the mixture. To his surprise, the egg and toast mixture wasn’t
as bad as it looked and he quickly had the bowl empty.
True to his word, Sam agreed to let Bryan have what he wanted for supper – his
only restriction was that Bryan didn’t go overboard. The truth was that even
if Bryan was interested in over-indulging, he wasn’t all that hungry. By
dinner time, he was feeling some mild discomfort, and let the nurse know about
it. She promised to give him some pills for the pain just before his meal
arrived.
To his surprise, Bryan found himself growing sleepy even before he took the
pain pills – he really hadn’t done anything except sleep through the surgery
and then stay in bed all day. He couldn’t believe he was so worn out. When Sam
came around after dinner to check on the bandages, he explained that the
surgery was still a trauma to Bryan’s body and sleep would help him heal. Sam
explained that Bryan should try not to fight against the sleep and just let
himself drift off when he felt sleepy.
Simon and Kev promised Sam that they’d make sure Bryan rested. As it turned
out, their promise was unnecessary – an hour later Bryan was peacefully
sleeping. Simon removed Bryan’s glasses while Kev tucked the sheets up around
his chin. Together, the Australians tiptoed from the room, turning out the
light and whispering goodnight to the nurse.
To be continued …
* * * |
Take It Easy | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES | I had the fantasy of picking up with an old flame, but she had conditions. | Why did I get off the train? There is no way in Hell that I'm going to see
her. I know that she lives around here somewhere, but I'm not going to ask
around. Amtrak doesn't run the schedule that the old Santa Fe ran, so the next
eastbound train doesn't get here until six tomorrow morning. I took great care
to shower and shave this morning, not easily done on a train. Normally, I
don't use aftershave, but this morning I put on the Stetson that she liked,
just a few dabs on the arousal spots, the way a woman would, including a dab
at the base of my penis. I've even taken a Cialis. All this for the woman I
jilted 40 years ago, who I haven't seen since, and have no chance of seeing
today. Hell! She got married a few years ago and for all I know still is. I'm
really beginning to feel a little silly. Well, it is, morning rush hour, such
as it is in a town this size, and here I am, standing on a corner in Winslow
Arizona.
Cars are going by. I would guess that most of these people work in Flagstaff
by the way they are headed. The traffic does occasionally stop in front me. A
Jeep pulls to a stop right in front of me. DAMN! There she is. The hair is
almost white, she still has her Bette Paige bangs, and her face is weathered,
but even though I haven't seen her since she was nineteen, I would recognize
her anywhere. She turns and looks at me. I smile. No recognition. She can't be
bothered and starts up with the traffic. SHIT! Oh, well. What could I expect?
About two-hundred feet down the road, the tail lights come and she pulls over
to the curb. She stands up on the driver's side step and looks over the top at
me with a look of disbelief. Trying not to look too excited I walk over to the
Jeep. She sits back down in the car. I look in at her.
“You know, “ she says finally, “you're not such a fine sight to see.”
Somehow, her Texas accent seems stronger than I remembered it.
“You're long past being a girl and this isn't a flat-bed Ford, so I guess
we're even.”
“What do you want to do? Pick up where we left off?”
“We can't. We're not the same people. You were nineteen and I was twenty-two.
We have to get to know each other all over again and see where that takes us.”
“Don't just stand there. Get in!”
I throw my stuff in the back and get in the right seat. Before I even have the
belt clipped she is back in traffic. As soon as she finds a spot to hang a
U-turn we're going back the other way. She gets out her cell phone.
“Hi,” she says. “I need the day off today....Yes, I know but something is
going to come up.”
I give her a wry smile that she returns.
“I know, but I have been your most reliable employee for the last ten years, I
think I deserve a little slack.... O.K. I'll be in tomorrow.”
She closes the phone.
“By that, something is going to come up, remark I assume that you are not
still married,” I said.
“No.”
“That didn't last long.”
“I'd rather not talk about it. And, you?”
“No. And, it lasted too long.”
“What? It took you over forty years to realize that you married the wrong
woman.”
“Hey! It was my mistake, but I gave it a good run. Besides, I think that if
you hadn't been through a marriage yourself we wouldn't be having this
conversation.”
“Probably not. You know, that was a pretty nasty remark you made that last
time we saw each other.”
“Yah. I want to apologize for that. I wouldn't have been facetious except
thats what I thought you were being. I didn't realize that you were probably
the only person who didn't know she was pregnant.”
“If you had just said that she was pregnant it wouldn't have hurt so much. I
probably would have question that you were sure it was yours.”
“I didn't find out the truth of that until thirty-seven years later. By that
time it was ancient history and not worth getting upset over.”
“Oh! I didn't know. Sorry. Does your kid know?”
“What's the point? There are no medical issues so I will always be Daddy. My
ex won't say anything. Whatever you think of her for what she did forty years
ago, she isn't really a bad sort.”
“Yes, but you are divorced.”
“You're right. I said that it wasn't worth getting upset over, but it stuck in
my craw, and stuck, and stuck. When she said that she didn't want sex any
more, I did what all men do when they hear that, added the words 'with you' to
the sentence, and decided the marriage was over.”
“So, that's what all men do when they hear that.”
“Explain something, does it?”
“Not really. When I say something I'm very clear. It comes with age.”
She turns into her drive. I suppose you would call the place a small ranch.
There is a mid sized, contemporary house with a three-car garage, proper
desert landscaping, and a stable with a corral out back.
“I see you have someplace to keep horses.”
“You have to get something out of a marriage. Did you ever learn to ride?”
“I 'm still not what you would consider a horseman, but I've learned to move
with a horse so I can go on a trail ride without falling off.”
“What made you do that?”
“An affair with other girl from Texas. She said that she could teach me to
move with the horse in a minute, but it only took about thirty seconds.”
“Tied your balls to the saddle horn?”
“How did you know?”
“I was going to do the same thing. Come on. Let's go inside.”
As soon as we get in the house she turns and gives me a long, hard kiss
knocking both our hats to the floor..
“Are you sure?” I ask.
“Have I told you lately you talk too much?”
We leave a trail of clothes on are way to the bedroom and are both naked when
she pulls me down onto the unmade bed.
About three hours later, I wake up from our after sex cat nap. She is looking
at me across the pillow with her big, dark eyes. I look at her face and
realize that this is still a face that I don't mind looking at across a pillow
when I awake. At sixty she is as pretty as any woman ever needs to be. Raising
her head off the pillow and leaning it on her hand she uses the other hand to
trace idle circles in my chest hair for a moment.
“You;re better than you were forty years ago,” she says with a pleased look on
her face.
“So are you.”
“That's a given. I was a virgin.”
She sits up and playfully hits me with a pillow. We wrestle around in the bed
for a while like a couple of kids.
“Why don't you use the bathroom? Come back and we'll see just how good we
are.”
I practically jump out of bed. When I get back she has one pillow at the
center of the bed and one in the middle. She motions me to put my butt on the
one in the middle and my head on the other. When I lay down, she straddles my
chest and spreads my arms out.
“Remember how you were going to tie me up when we had sex, but we never got
around to it?”
“Yes.”
“Well,” she says, pulling handcuffs up from between the mattress and the
headboard, “In a way, we really are going to pick up where we left off.”
I'm a bit uneasy, but I let here cuff my hands to the headboard. She gets off
and pulls a rope out from under the mattress at the foot of the bed and in
short order I am tied, spread eagle, on the bed.
“Just a moment,” she says with a smile, “I have to get something.”
She returns with a can of shaving cream, a razor, and a bowl of water, puts
them down and walks out again. When she comes back she is holding an
elastrator, green bands and a stockman's knife. She holds up the elastrator
and stockman's knife for me to see.
“Do you know what this is for?”
“You have got to be kidding!”
“I loved you. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, I gave you my
virginity and you dumped me. I decided right them what I would do if I ever
saw you again, give you a really grate fuck, so you would know what you were
missing, then cut your balls off.”
She kneels on the end of the bed and sets to work shaving my balls. Of course,
I get hard.
“Men! I'm going to castrate you and you get a hard-on.”
“There is a law against malicious castration in the State of Arizona, you
know.”
“Please, all I need is one woman on the jury and they will never get a
conviction. You made me hate you and you deserve it. There is nothing you can
say that will talk me out of it.”
“If you hate me then you have passion for me. That means we can love again. If
you had recognized me and kept on driving when you saw me, then we would have
no hope. We can love again. Let me make a deal with you.”
“Save your breath. I want you to live the rest of your life knowing the
feeling of loss that I had when you dumped me. I'll drop you off at the
emergency room when I'm done, but I'm going to take my time and make you feel
it.”
She finishes shaving me and starts to load a band on the elastrator.
“If you're sure you aren't going to change your mind it won't hurt to listen.”
I've upset her rhythm. She tilts her head and gets a little exasperated look.
“OK. Talk.”
“Let's live together as lovers for five years, denying each other nothing
We'll live with complete honesty, no lies. We've both been married, so we both
know how hard that is to do. We will share all our sexual fantasies, no matter
how perverted we think they are and try to realize any of them that won't do
damage to us. Then, at the end of that time, if you still think that I deserve
to be castrated, my balls are yours.”
She's thinking.
“What if you can't get it up after that?”
“I'll lick your pussy as long as we both shall live.”
She looks at me for a moment then a bit of a smile crosses her face.
“That should be part of wedding vows.”
Her look is serious again. She leans forward and crawls up until she is
looking me in the face.
“Three years, we're not getting any younger, and we have to get married.”
“Done!”
“You agree to that?”
“It was my idea.”
She sits up across my thighs, gets an almost petulant look, and makes a show
of idly flicking my penis back and forth with the elastrator as she thinks.
“I don't know if I should trust you. You could run off as soon as I let you
loose.”
“I wouldn't run off this time even if you wanted to cut off my penis.”
“Don't give me any ideas!” she says as she starts to laugh. “OK! It's a deal.”
She gets off of me, unties my feet, gets the keys and unlocks the handcuffs.
“Come on! Get up!, she is pulling me out of the bed. “We still have time to
shower and get into Flagstaff this afternoon. We have errands to run.”
“Errands?”
“Yes, you don't have to get a blood test in Arizona, and there is no waiting
period after getting the license. If we can find an available judge we can get
married this afternoon. And, no more sex until we're married.”
She pulls me into the bathroom and turns on the shower.
“What other errands?” I asked.
“There is a Staples in Flagstaff. The last time I was there I saw a really
nice four-year calendar.”
“That's why you said three years. So it would fit on that calendar.”
“We're getting that calendar and a Sharpie so you can check off the days
yourself.”
She pulls me into the shower and while she's kissing me under the running
water grabs my penis.
“It's a solar heater so we won't run out of warm water,' she whispers. “Maybe
just one more time before we are married.”
* * * |
Familienfeier - German | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES, MINOR | Ein Junge wird kastriert. Zu seinem eigenen Besten - sagt seine Mutter. | **Familienfeier**
Heute ist wieder mal unser „Familientag“. Meine Mutter, meine beiden
Schwestern und ich – Arno – haben uns zusammengesetzt, um einige Sachen zu
bereden, die in letzter Zeit angestanden sind. Meine Mutter beruft solche
„Konferenzen“ alle paar Wochen mal ein. Meistens kommt ohnehin nichts dabei
’raus außer blödes Weibergequatsche. Meine beiden Schwestern, Lisa und
Annemarie, sind beide um vier Jahre älter als ich. Beide? Ja doch, es sind
Zwillinge. Sie sehen sich aber kaum ähnlich. Ich bin 15 und ziemlich clever –
sagen die Jungs mit denen ich herumhänge. Meine Mutter findet, ich sei ein
bisschen zu clever, aber lassen wir das.
Mutter bringt immer so eine Art „Tagesordnung“ vor, auf der wir auch eintragen
können, wo uns der Schuh drückt und was wir bequatschen sollten. Mir fällt
dazu nie was ein, ich find es eigentlich nur dämlich. Heute steht auf dem
Programm: „Abwasch-Einteilung“, „Müll runtertragen“, „Ein neues Haustier?“ und
„Pubertätsprobleme von Arno“. Wie bitte? Was denn für Pubertätsprobleme? Ist
Mutter jetzt komplett bescheuert oder was?
Na, die Tagesordnung war schnell abgehandelt – bis zum letzten Punkt. Da
hatten sie nicht mit mir gerechnet. Ich sagte mal meine Meinung. Leider musste
ich erfahren, dass dieser Punkt von Lisa auf die Tagesordnung gesetzt worden
war. Mutter kann gar nichts für. Ist eben Lisa verrückt geworden. Was geht die
denn meine Pubertät an? Und überhaupt, so was hab’ ich gar nicht, Pubertät.
Ich könnte denen schon mal zeigen, was für ein Kerl in mir steckt. Immerhin
ist mein Schwanz satte 14,5 cm groß und meine Eier sind auch nicht übel.
„Pubertät – hat sich was. Ich bin ein erwachsener Mann!“ So sehe ich das.
Mutter grinste: „So so, erwachsen ist er also, der Arno. Und hat noch nie ein
Mädchen auch nur aus der Nähe gesehen!“ Und Lisa setze noch eins drauf: „Und
selbst wenn, ich glaube, Arno bekäme sein Pimmelchen gar nicht hoch.“
Da war nun aber wirklich stark. Die spinnt wohl, dachte ich, und sagte ihr
gründlich die Meinung. Dann meinte Annemarie: „Bevor wir uns streiten, warum
machen wir nicht die Probe aufs Exempel. Sehen wir uns doch mal an ob er ihn
hochkriegt!“ „Und wie, bitteschön?“, fragte Lisa. „Na ganz einfach. Ich zieh’
mich jetzt aus und geh’ ihm mal an die Wäsche. Ich weiß schon, Mama, Du wirst
sagen dass das gar nichts beweist, aber ich sage Dir, wenn Arno wirklich ein
Mann sein will, kriegt er auch bei seiner Schwester einen hoch.“
Mutter brach in Gelächter aus: „Na Du hast Ideen. So was Bescheuertes. Aber
vielleicht hast Du Recht. Machen wir das Experiment. Nur, was sind die
Konsequenzen? Wenn er ihn hochkriegt, ist er dann ein Mann und das Thema damit
vom Tisch? Was, wenn er ihn nicht hochkriegt?“ Lisa meinte: „Wenn er ihn
hochkriegt, ist er meiner Meinung nach pervers und wenn nicht, ist er eben ein
impotentes Würstchen, was meinst Du, Mary?“ „Sehe ich genau so“, sagte
Annemarie. „O.K., dann legt mal los“, meinte Mutter, „gleich hier im
Wohnzimmer!“
Da muss ich einen kleinen Einschub machen: Annemarie ist eine ziemlich scharfe
Braut. Ja, ich weiß, sie ist meine Schwester, aber Leute, ich sage Euch, sie
ist eine ziemliche Traumbraut. Groß – ich glaube so einssiebzig – schlank,
schwarze, lange Haare, die sie offen trägt, ein Busen, der es in sich hat,
nicht besonders groß aber knackig, ein megageiler Hintern und Augen, dass Du
glaubst, die Sonne geht auf, wenn sie Dich ansieht. Meine Wichsvorlage seit
ich wichsen kann.
Und jetzt zog sie sich ganz einfach vor uns allen aus. Sogar den Slip. Wow!
Ich konnte mich kaum satt sehen. So geil hatte ich sie mir in meinen wüstesten
Fantasien nicht vorstellen können. Ich spürte, wie sich mein Schwanz bemerkbar
machte. Mutter kommandierte: „Los, Arno, Hose runter. Sofort!“ Na gut. Macht
ja nichts. Bleibt ja in der Familie, sagte mein Hirn. „Oh Gott, wie peinlich“,
sagte ich. Da ergriff Lisa die Initiative, öffnete Gürtel und Schlitz meiner
Jeans und zog sie mir im Sitzen mit einem Ruck unter dem Arsch weg. Jetzt
konnten mich alle in der Unterhose sehen. Mein Kopf glühte.
War mir das peinlich! Noch dazu, wo mein Schwanz schon spürbar größer wurde.
Mutter, Lisa und Mary starrten alle drei auf die wachsende Beule in meiner
Unterhose. Annemarie meinte trocken: „Na viel tut sich da nicht. Weißt Du,
dass Dein Pimmelchen auch für Dein Alter ziemlich mickrig ist? Was fängst Du
denn damit an?“ Worauf meine Mutter und Lisa gleichzeitig zu Lachen begannen
und „Onanieren!“ riefen. „Stimmt das?“, fragte Annemarie und grapschte nach
meinem Schwanz. Ihre Hand fühlte sich noch durch den Stoff der Unterhose warm
und zart an. Ich zog scharf die Luft ein: „Manchmal“, sagte ich. „Was heißt
‚manchmal’?“, fragte meine Mutter. Ich antwortete nicht gleich. Da begann
Annemarie meinen Schwanz im Slip zu massieren. Mann, war das geil! Noch nie
hatte wer meinen Schwanz abgegriffen. Ich musste aufstöhnen. Da hörte Mary
auf, doch ich hätte alles dafür gegeben damit sie weitermachte obwohl die
ganze Situation arschpeinlich und ziemlich demütigend war. „Na, sag schön“,
meinte sie, „wie oft onanierst Du? Jeden Tag?“ „Ja“, sagte ich. Was auch
stimmte. Seit etwa einem Jahr machte ich es mir regelmäßig selbst.
„Und woran denkst Du dabei?“, fragte Mutter. „Denkst Du dabei an Mädchen und
daran, wie das sein könnte, wenn Du mit einer schlafen dürftest? An wen denkst
Du am öftesten?“ Annemarie hatte inzwischen wieder damit begonnen, an meiner
Beule zu rubbeln und mein Schwanz war ganz steif. „Oft denke ich an Annemarie
und daran, wie sie wohl untenherum nackt aussieht“, quetschte ich raus.
Annemarie lachte auf: „Na, das kannst Du ja gerade sehen! Schau einmal genauer
hin!“ Sie spreizte ihre Beine und drückte meinen Kopf an ihre Scham. Ich
konnte sie riechen. „Da riecht geil!“, entfuhr es mir. „Ach so?“, meinte Mary.
„Dann versuch mal ob’s auch schmeckt.“ Und meine Schwester ließ sich von mir
lecken. Ihre Hüften machten langsam kreisende Bewegungen. Meinen Kopf hielt
sie fest an sich gedrückt. Meine Zunge konnte ihren Saft schmecken: herb und
süß. Es war unbeschreiblich. So hatte ich mir das nie vorstellen können. Ich
konnte das Blut in meinem Schwanz pochen fühlen.
„So, jetzt zieh mal Deine Unterhose auch aus, mein Junge“, meinte da Mutter.
Und ich ließ die Hose runter. Mit hochrotem Kopf stand ich nun vor meinen
Schwestern und vor meiner Mutter. Und mit einem abstehenden Schwanz, der vor
lauter Geilheit auf und ab ruckte. „Miss mal nach, Lisa“, rief Mutter. Lisa
kam mit dem Lineal, legte an und meinte dann: „Dreizehn Zentimeter und ein
paar Millimeter. Da kann er sonst nicht viel damit anfangen, der Arme. Glaubt
ihr, der wächst noch?“ „Na zwei drei Zentimeter wird er schon noch zulegen,
aber es wird immer zu wenig bleiben, um eine Frau glücklich zu machen“, meinte
Mutter. „Ich glaube, es ist besser, wir beenden das unwürdige Schauspiel. Wir
sollten ihm Erleichterung verschaffen, damit er nicht mehr jeden Tag heimlich
ins Klo onanieren muss. Das ist doch entwürdigend für den Jungen. Und Mädchen
kriegt er mit dem Pimmelchen ohnehin nie ins Bett. Was meinen meine hübschen
Töchter dazu, hm?“ Lisa und Mary nickten: „Soll er vorher noch kommen?“ „Ja“,
meinte Mutter, „soll er. Und zwar in Annemarie! Lisa, geh’ schon mal ins
Schlafzimmer und bereite vor, was wir besprochen haben.“
Ich stand immer noch da, mit meinem Schwanz, der pochte und kannte mich nicht
mehr so richtig aus. Hatte ich richtig gehört, ich sollte mit Annemarie ins
Bett gehen? Der Gedanke törnte mich ziemlich an. Gleich sollte ich meinen
Schwanz in die feuchte Grotte meiner Schwester stecken dürfen. Es würde mein
erstes Mal sein, dass ich in eine Frau eindringen durfte. „Hoffentlich klappt
alles“, schoss es mir durch den Kopf, aber ich beruhigte mich schnell als mich
Mary an der Hand nahm und mich ins Schlafzimmer meiner Mutter führte. Auf dem
Nachttisch lag ein grünes Tuch, das anscheinend ein ziemliches Durcheinander
gnädig verhüllte. Die Bettdecke war zurückgezogen. Lisa hatte Kerzen
angezündet und die Jalousien heruntergelassen. Es duftete ein bisschen nach
Rosenblüten.
Lisa und Mutter setzten sich aufs Sofa, das am Fußende des Bettes an der Wand
stand. Annemarie legte sich mit gespreizten Beinen auf den Rücken ins Bett und
zog mich zu sich. Ich kann seitlich neben ihr zu liegen. Mary drehte mich auf
den Rücken, beugte sich über mich und küsste mich lange. Ich konnte ihre Zunge
in meinem Mund fühlen und schauerte vor Geilheit. Ihr Körper war warm und
weich. Sie roch fantastisch. Mein Schwanz war so steif wie überhaupt noch nie.
Annemarie setzte sich auf mich drauf, griff nach meinem Schwanz und ließ ihn
in ihre Höhle schlüpfen. „Himmel!“, war das geil! Einfach unglaublich. So
warm, so feucht, so glitschig und so, so …!“ „Das also ist richtiger Sex“,
dachte ich. „Kein Wunder, dass die alle so ein Theater drum machen. Etwas
Schöneres kann es nicht geben.“ Annemarie bewegte ihre Hüften zwei, drei Mal
auf und ab, als ich auch schon explodierte. Ich konnte spüren, wie Sperma aus
meinem Schwanz in die Höhle meiner Schwester schoss. Richtiges Sperma, das
wusste ich gleich. Bis jetzt hatte ich nur trockene Orgasmen gehabt, aber das
hier war unvergleichlich viel geiler.
In meiner Geilheit hatte ich gar nichts von der Außenwelt mitbekommen. Als
Annemarie aber von mir runterstieg und mich noch einmal küsste, bemerkte ich,
dass ich mit Händen und Füßen ans Bett gefesselt war. Meine Mutter zog gerade
einen Ledergurt um meine Hüften stramm, der mich aufs Bett drückte. Ich konnte
mich nicht befreien! Als ich den Kopf drehte, sah ich auch, was sich auf den
Nachtkästchen unter dem Tuch verborgen hatte, das Lisa jetzt zurückschlug. Ein
komplettes Operationsbesteck! „Was geht hier vor?“, rief ich, „was macht ihr?
Mama!“ „Ja, Deine Mama ist bei Dir, mein Liebling. Ich bin ja da. Lisa wird
Dir jetzt helfen, damit Du nicht mehr onanieren musst. Ach Annemarie, wie
war’s eigentlich?“, meinte Mutter. „Wenn nicht ein bisschen Sperma raustropfen
würde, könnte ich nicht mit Sicherheit sagen, ob er drin war“, lachte
Annemarie, „aber es muss wohl so gewesen sein.“ „Siehst Du?“, meinte Mutter,
„Dein Ding ist leider zu klein für eine Frau. Und ich sage Dir, es wird auch
nicht viel mehr draus. Da bliebe Dir Zeit Deines Lebens nur der Sex mit Dir
selbst. Das werden wir Dir ersparen. Lisa wird Dir jetzt eine Injektion geben,
damit es nicht weh tut.“
Im selben Moment spürte ich einen Stich zwischen meinen Eiern und meinem
Arschloch. Es brannte kurz, tat aber nicht besonders weh. Dann gab mir Lisa
noch drei weitere Injektionen rund um meinen Hodensack. Langsam begriff ich,
was da vor sich ging. Die wollten mir an die Eier! Sie wollten mir die Eier
abschneiden! „Seid ihr verrückt?“, schrie ich, „was tut ihr denn da, um
Himmels willen!“ „Ganz ruhig, Schatz“, sagte Mutter, „es ist alles nur zu
Deinem Besten, glaub’ mir!“ Annemarie stopfte mit irgendetwas in den Mund. Ich
bekam fast keine Luft mehr und konnte nicht mehr reden. Dann griff mir Lisa
zwischen die Beine. „Spürst Du das?“, fragte sie, während ich sah, wie sie
meine Eier quetschte. Ich schüttelte den Kopf. Nein, ich spürte tatsächlich
gar nichts. „Gut“, meine Lisa, „dann fange ich an. Mutter, kannst Du ihn jetzt
waschen und seine paar Härchen abrasieren?“
Meine Mutter nahm einen Lappen, den sie in Wasser tauchte, rubbelte an meinen
Eiern herum und wusch – glaube ich – auch meinen schlaffen Schwanz. Ich konnte
noch nicht einmal fühlen ob das Wasser kalt oder warm war. Ich spürte gar
nichts. Dann nahm sie einen Einwegrasierer und schabte mir die Schamhaare ab.
Wieder wusch sie mich unten rum. Dann sprühte Lisa mit einer Sprayflasche
etwas auf meinen Hodensack. An der Innenseite meiner Oberschenkel konnte ich
fühlen, dass es kalt war.
„Und Du weißt genau, was Du hier tust?“, fragte Mutter Lisa. „Aber ja doch.
Ich habe mich wirklich gründlich schlau gemacht. Ich weiß wie so was geht. Ist
keine Hexerei. Jeder kann das“, meinte Lisa und nahm ein Skalpell vom
Nachttisch. „Ich mache Dir jetzt einen kleinen Schnitt in Deinen Hodensack. Du
wirst ich nicht spüren“, sagte Lisa zu mir. „Warte“, „sagte Mutter, ich rück’
den Ankleidespiegel näher her, dann kann er selbst sehen, was Du machst.“
Ich konnte mich nicht bewegen. Erstens war ich gefesselt und zweitens war ich
wirklich starr vor Schreck. Lisa schnitt tatsächlich meinen Sack auf! Ich
konnte sehen, wie sich die Haut öffnete. Lisa schnitt noch drei Mal an
derselben Stelle. Jedes Mal ein wenig tiefer. Im Schnitt, der ca. fünf
Zentimeter Lang war, tauchte ein weißliches, glattes Gewebe auf. Dann drückte
Lisa mein rechtes Ei durch den Schnitt aus dem Sack heraus. Ich hatte noch nie
das Innere eines Hodensackes gesehen. Es floss kein Tropfen Blut. Alles wirkte
sauber. Dann quetschte Lisa auch das zweite Ei durch den Schnitt. Jetzt lagen
meine Eier frei! Oh Gott!
Dann nahm Lisa eine Klammer und fixierte die Eier, damit sie nicht wegrutschen
konnten. Lisa nahm eine Schnur –offenbar irgendein medizinisches Material –
und band die Samenstränge so fest ab, wie sie konnte. Sie machte mehrere
Knoten. Dann sagte Sie: „So, Arno, sag ‚Auf Wiedersehen’ zu Deinen beiden
Hoden. Ich schneide jetzt die Samenstränge durch und nähe Dir dann Deinen Sack
wieder zu. Er wird ein bisschen komisch aussehen, wenn er leer zwischen Deinen
Beinen hängt, aber Du wirst Dich schon daran gewöhnen.“
Und tatsächlich nahm Lisa jetzt eine Schere und kappte mit einem einzigen
kurzen Schnitt mein rechtes Ei! „Mutter, Du das andere?“, fragte Lisa. „Nein,
Kind, lass nur, ich glaube ich würde was falsch machen. Mach Du nur“, sagte
Mutter. Ich konnte hören wie Ihre Stimme zitterte. War sie aufgeregt oder
erregt? Ich sah zu ihr hin. Mutter und Annemarie saßen auf dem Sofa mir
gegenüber und hatten beide ihre Hände zwischen den Beinen. Die holten sich
einen runter! Lisa meinte nur: „Sei froh, dass Du jemanden geil machst. Das
wird Dir ohnehin ab jetzt nicht mehr passieren!“
Mit diesen Worten schnitt sie den zweiten Samenstang durch und beide Eier
lagen auf dem Leintuch!
Pippi (neueweltenAThotmailDOTcom)
* * * |
Little sister part 3 | TG, TESTICLES, MINOR | A 17-year-old transsexual is tormented by her sisters and their friends, until one day they finally go too far. | My name is Amber and this is another story of the worst two months of my life.
I was seventeen, and had been transitioning to female for two years when my
mom suddenly decided that if I really wanted to be a girl, I could prove it by
not complaining when I got hit in the balls. My little sisters took advantage
of this and starting torturing my balls as often as possible, using it to
control me and just to pick on me. With my mom threatening to take me off my
hormones, I had to put up with it for two months until I turned 18 and could
get my own meds.
My two sisters are Erin, then age 16, who had a grudge against me for years,
and Karly, who was fourteen, and seemed to think of it as just a fun game.
This story takes place five days before I turned eighteen, it's my last story,
and it's the story of the most humiliating day of my life.
I was just getting home after spending the day downtown, where there were
always enough people that I could hide from my sisters. It cost me a lot of
money to take the bus back and forth every day, but I was that afraid of my
sisters at that point. Just beating my balls had lost some of its novelty, and
now they mostly just threatened me with it to make me do chores and favors for
them. It was great to let my swollen balls heal up a bit, but if anything I
hated being turned into their slave even more than just getting kicked around
every day. So I made sure to get out of the house every day, and with the
swelling and soreness in my pants going down, I'd started wearing decent
looking clothes again instead of having to go out every day in baggy pants.
That day I was wearing a cute pleated skirt over soft pink panties, and a red
halter top.
Anyway, I arrived back at my house and quietly opened the door, sure that they
would be waiting to ambush me. Nothing. The living room was completely
peaceful. Then I heard some giggles from down the hall and I figured out why,
Karly had her friends over. All three of them were little brats and Erin found
them even more annoying than I did, so she must be out of the house. Lucky! If
I could just sneak to my room, I could hide out at least until mom came home,
and then my sisters couldn't do anything real bad to me.
Only problem was, Karly's bedroom door was wide open and in between me and my
room. If she saw me, she was such a little bitch that she'd just have to order
me around, to show off to her friends. I'd have to wait until she was
distracted and sneak by. I got close to the door and listened in... Like all
fourteen-year-old girls, they were talking about boys. After a minute or so,
one of them asked what penises were like, and Karly started this long,
rambling explanation. Yeah, like she really knew what she was talking about.
Still, this was my chance.
I tried to calm down and walked casually past the door. I didn't want to jinx
it by looking inside. Karly just kept talking, and I made it to the other
side... Just when I thought I was home free, I heard her shout "Amber! Get
over here!"
I knew it was an awful idea, but I really didn't want her pissed. I leaned
back into the doorway. "Yeah?" "Come in here really fast." This was getting
bad, but I walked into the room, trying to act casual.
Karly and her friends were sitting on her bed, and had obviously been dressing
each other up for no real reason. Emma was on the right wearing a striped
t-shirt, red shorts and knee-length stripey toe socks. I had to admit, it went
with her curly red hair. Stephanie was on the left in a yellow sun dress and
long white socks, her hair pulled back in a long braid. In the middle, Karly
was sitting there with her legs crossed trying to look mature. She had a black
sweater on over a denim miniskirt and black stockings complete with garters.
Where she got them, I don't know. She was wearing elbow-length black gloves,
and had on a lot of makeup and her long blond hair was parted to make her look
like an office worker. All three of them were staring at me like they knew
something I didn't, and I instantly got a bad feeling.
"Emma and Steph have never seen a penis up close before," Karly said with a
smug grin. "Show them yours." The other two instantly burst into giggles.
"Oh hell no," I said and crossed my arms. It was embarrassing enough having my
sisters see me naked, especially when I hated my body. This was way too much.
"Too bad," Karly said, "I wasn't asking. Either you strip down or Erin and I
will kick you in the nuts and do it for you." She pointed over my shoulder and
I glanced back; Erin was leaning against the wall behind me with an evil look
on her face. Shit, they had me surrounded... There was no way out of this.
"C'mon!" "We wanna see!" Steph and Emma were leaning forward eagerly. My mind
was working, trying to think of a way out of this. "You don't do it by three
and Erin kicks you right between the legs," Karly said. She didn't sound
angry, she just sounded like this was all a game to her. She started counting
and I just stood still... But when she got to three and started signaling
Erin, I gave up. "Fine!" I shouted, blushing.
Reaching up underneath my pleated skirt, I grabbed the sides of my panties and
slowly pulled them down. They hung around my knees and I lifted my skirt self-
consciously, reluctantly exposing myself.
"Oh wow, is that all?" Steph said and I glared at her. Emma added, "It's
tiny!" I wanted to die at that point.
"Most boys are a lot bigger," Karly told them matter-of-fact-ly. "Amber's just
small 'cause she's a tranny." I gave here a death glare, but she just grinned
back.
"All right, I'm leaving," I declared and started lowering me skirt. "Wait!"
Karly shouted and I paused. "We're not done yet. Get over here and let them
touch it."
"No!" There was no fucking way I would let myself be felt up by a bunch of
giggling 14-year-olds. Then suddenly there was a hand wrapped around my
testicles... Erin was reaching in between my legs and grabbing them from
behind. "Do what she says, bitch," she hissed in my ear and gave my balls a
squeeze. I groaned and nodded, not wanting more torture. She let go and I
forced myself to walk closer until my cock and balls were within reach. Karly
motioned me closer, so I shuffled in until my cock and balls were practically
right in their faces.
Emma and Steph reached out and started groping me with no modesty whatsoever.
I shut my eyes and tried to put it out of my mind as they pulled and squeezed
my limp penis. 'Hey, it's not all bad,' I thought to myself. 'At least my body
is full of so much estrogen there's no way I'll accidently get an erection...
That would be a nightmare.' Suddenly there was a dull ache in my testicles
that pulled me back to reality.
The girls were already bored of my dick and were now cupping my ball sack.
Even though I had healed a lot, my balls were still large, about twice as big
as normal, and very red. "Why are these so big?" Steph asked, and Karly gave
me a grin that was a sure sign things were about to go from bad to worse.
"That's 'cause Erin and I play with 'em all the time," she said, and before
her friends could ask, she said "Watch this." and gave my nuts a quick slap
from below. Instantly pain shot through my body, and I had to fight the urge
to curl up. I gritted my teeth and let out a gasp of pain. My eyes were shut,
but I could hear Emma clearly.
"Oh wow! It hurts that much?" She leaned in closer. "I've never seen a boy get
hit in the nuts."
"Oh yeah, it hurts bad," Karly bragged. "Especially when you squeeze 'em. Go
on, give it a try." Alarm bells were ringing inside my head, but I was too
slow from the previous stunning blow, and I felt their small hands wrap around
my vulnerable balls. The pain started slow, but then they readjusted their
grips, Emma grabbing my right nut and Steph my left. I saw their arms tense up
with effort, and then my mind went blank as the agony made its way to my
brain. My testicles had nowhere to go and were quickly being flattened in the
grips of girls who had barely started high school.
I tried to reach my hands down to pry their hands off, even knowing that would
make the pain worse, but Erin grabbed me by the arms and held them behind my
back. My knees started buckling, but she wouldn't let me fall to the ground. I
couldn't breathe and my face must have been turning as bright purple as my
poor balls. To add insult to injury, Karly pinched my cock in between her
fingernails and tugged it upwards, making me thrust my hips forward to try and
alleviate the pain.
Seeing what Karly was doing with her nails, that little bitch Steph adjusted
her grip again, this time digging the tips of her fingers into my huge, aching
ball. I let out a squeal as her sharp nails dug into the vulnerable skin, and
I fell to my knees. The three smaller girls kept up their cruel assault on my
privates for what felt like another hour before Karly finally said "Okay,
stop!"
Suddenly all the hands left me alone, and I sat there trying to regain my
breath as my bruised genitals drooped in defeat. Oh, the agony... I needed a
while just to start breathing regularly again, but I wouldn't get it.
Instantly Karly's foot in its black stocking shot up into my balls, ramming
them up into my body. I let out a sick groan and froze up, and the other two
took this chance to swing their feet up into my crotch, slamming my nuts again
and again. It was a strange feeling, having their smooth little feet, wrapped
in soft, spongy socks, cause my balls so much agony. I crumpled up more with
each blow, then finally fell over with tears streaming down my face. Erin let
my hands go and they cradled my abused testicles, as I rolled onto my stomach
with my legs underneath me. I could hear all the girls laughing, and talking
about how they could feel my balls flatten underneath their socked feet, while
I lay there on the floor in pain. I was on the verge of throwing up, but with
the last of my strength I swallowed it, knowing that if I made a mess on the
carpet I'd be in plenty more trouble.
I think I blacked out for a bit, but when I came to I was still laying there
on the floor. The three of them were still on the bed giggling about crushing
my nuts, but at least Erin seemed to be gone. My balls were massive now,
bigger than a softball all together, and I had trouble holding them in my
hands. None of them had even thought about helping me, had they?
"Man, I loved feeling his nuts under my feet," Emma was saying, and I couldn't
even manage to be offended by her using the wrong pronouns. She was
practically gushing about kicking me in the crotch, which was weird because
until then I had thought of her as the most sweet and innocent of the three.
She looked maybe 11 or 12 and cute as a button, with frizzy orange hair. I
guess Karly didn't look like an evil little brat either, though, so looks
could be deceiving.
Realizing I probably had enough strength to move now, I wondered if this could
be my chance to get to my room and rest. They didn't seem to notice I was
recovering, and if I could jump to my feet quickly enough, I could be down the
hall before they even got off the bed. I'd have to be quick though. I slowly
let go of my swollen balls to get my hands free, and felt them swing down
between my thighs. In retrospect, since the three of them were behind me,
there was no way they could miss my huge purple ball sack falling into plain
view. But thinking I still had the element of surprise, I put my hands on the
floor and got ready to jump up.
Right as I started lifting my body up, I heard bedsprings squeaking behind me
as Emma jumped off the bed. It was too late though, my chest was already up
and I was climbing up to hands and knees. Everything seemed to happen in slow
motion as I suddenly felt Emma's foot on top of my balls, shoving them down
right as the rest of my body was going up. I could feel everything as her toes
in the soft toe socks pinned my nuts to the rough, scratchy carpet, but it was
too late to stop. I tried to jump up, almost yanking my own balls off. The
skin of the sack stretched out almost to the breaking point as I tried to lift
my ass, and I screamed and fell back down to the floor.
Emma's soft feet ground my poor nuts into the carpet, and I could feel the
skin becoming raw. It was agony. I thought it couldn't possibly hurt any
worse, but this was incredible. I was completely out of control, squealing
like some kind of injured animal and thrashing around, but she had my balls
pinned in place. The other two girls stood beside Emma and they took turns
stomping on my massive purple sack. I thought my balls might have popped,
because they were squishier than they should be, almost flattening with every
stomp.
Then everything went quiet. No more kicks to my poor nuts. I was splayed out
across the floor making sounds I've never heard a human being make before, and
balls were huge, the sack stretched out so that they hung way lower than I had
ever thought possible. I thought it was all over, but I couldn't move a
muscle. That's when I heard Emma shout "Here I go!" She was standing between
my legs and getting ready to jump.
I watched her fly through the air with her feet stretched out beneath her, and
all I had to do was move a few inches and avoid what I knew was coming. But I
was frozen in place, both from exhaustion and fear. I saw her feet flexing in
her stripey toe socks as they dropped closer, closer, closer to the giant
mushy purple thing I could barely recognize as my testicles. Then she landed,
and my entire body was on fire with pain. I think my balls would have exploded
right then and there if she had been right on; at first it looked like they
would, as her full weight landed on my sack, and my nuts flattened until they
looked like pancakes. Then her left foot slipped down to the floor, and even
though she lifted it back up and planted it firmly on my left nut, it wasn't
quite enough to burst.
Every little movement she made caused new agony, and I could do nothing but
scream through my hoarse throat. She shifted her weight, flexed her toes, even
managed to dig her toenails deep into my soft, meaty balls. Karly and Steph
just started with their mouths open as she flattened my nuts more and more.
Finally she dismounted, the force of pushing herself off my nuts serving as
one last crushing pain, and they all stared as I lay there with my ball sack
huge and flattened on the bedroom floor. Just in time, too, as I could feel my
lunch coming up fast.
"Dude, I think you killed her..." Steph said quietly. Karly knew better,
though. "Nah, I think she's gonna throw up though. Grab her arm, Steph, we
gotta get her across the hall to the toilet."
The two of them lifted my front half off the ground, and Karly told Emma to
try and get my legs, but she didn't move. "Don't just stand there staring at
my sister's nuts!" Karly shouted, but Emma must have been dazed, so they
sighed and just dragged me by the arms. This meant the lower half of my body,
including my cock and especially my balls, got a rug burn from getting dragged
along the carpet. I just gasped and tried not to throw up as they tugged me
across the hall. I barely made it before puking my guts out into the toilet
bowl as they held my head up.
After I threw up for about half an hour, all of us heard the worst possible
sound: My mom opening the front door. The three of them panicked and
scattered, and I barely managed to fall onto the floor rather than into the
toilet bowl. This led to two of the most humiliating things I've ever been
through.
First of all, my mom found me on the bathroom floor, covered in puke and with
my massive purple ball sack hanging out of my skirt. She just stared for two
minutes straight, and the look on her face is burnt into my mind forever.
"Karly did it..." I managed to mumble, hoping to at least hear my sister get
punished, but my mom wasn't going to leave me. She got a big bag of ice and
pushed it down onto my balls, which hurt like hell. Then picked me up and
drove me to the hospital.
I tried my best to hide my swollen sack, but it was just too big. In the
emergency room I could see people pointing and staring at me, luckily I didn't
know any of them. I could just sit there and try to pull my skirt down
further, wondering if they could even recognize what was between my legs.
Finally I got taken back and placed in a bed, and a doctor and three nurses
all closely examined my swollen balls. I wanted to die so bad right then, but
I couldn't do anything, I just sat there hearing them talk about the damage
until I passed out from exhaustion and from the drugs they gave me.
Apparently I woke up a few times after that, but the next thing I actually
remember was after the operation. See, my balls were so damaged that they
probably wouldn't ever function properly. The doctor had a long talk with my
mom about how I would never be able to have children, and since I was
transgendered anyway, there was no reason to keep my balls. Finally my mom
realized I would never be a normal boy, and between a 'damaged' son and a more
or less functional daughter, she finally gave in and accepted me as a girl.
When I woke up, I was a eunuch, and when my mom talked to me she told me that
I would get a sex change operation as soon as possible. I'd been in the
hospital for two weeks, so the operation would be a late eighteenth birthday
present. I was told if I lived completely as a girl for my senior year of high
school, I could get the operation before I went to college.
I still have no idea what punishment my sisters got, but they avoided me like
the plague after that. When I did see them, they glared at me silently. I
missed the first few weeks of school when it started back up, and there were
all kinds of rumors about why I'd been gone, but I just ignored them. After
the hell I survived, another year as a social outcast was nothing. Besides, I
was well on my way to becoming a girl in every way.
* * * |
San Carlos Island - Hop Sing - Chapter 10 | GAY, NULLIFICATION, MINOR | The Story continues. Authored by Paolo, with Slammr<BR><BR>The completed story, along with other San Carlos storys is at: <A href="http://www.slammerstories.com/stories/pages/san_carlos/hop_sing/pages/hs.htm">http://www.slammerstories.com/stories/pages/san_carlos/hop_sing/pages/hs.htm</A> | ` `
_**Chapter 10**_
_**Uncle John**_
**The next day wasn't quite as bad Hop Sing's first day on the job.**
**Ben, when he found out that his buddy Wu had given the boy alcohol, almost
had a stroke over it. He then contacted the clients who had either Hop Sing or
Lewie booked for the day and informed them that a longer nap was being
inserted into the schedule. No one seemed to mind. All clients with new boys
were also required to file satisfaction reports, and both of the new boys were
pulling figures in the high 90% ranges. The only complaint about Lewie was
that he chattered a lot and was "tiring". The only complaint about Hop Sing
was that he was "unsure of himself" and "embarrassed".**
**Ben had been extremely worried about that. Actually, he'd expected Hop Sing
to beat up a client. Matti kept claiming that the boy was continually hitting
him, but yet there was no video record of it, or audio. That, and the computer
was "burpy" lately. It was aggravating Ben to no end.**
**But at least John Wong was there to fix it.**
**He'd flown in late the previous night, and although he'd been anxious to see
his "nephew", as he referred to Hop Sing, Ben had said that the boy was too
exhausted and the excitement would be bad for him. Ben wasn't sure whether to
believe his story or not. There were no legal records that he had any claim to
the boy. Usually, parents filed papers when there was an agreement such as the
one that Wong had explained to him. He wasn't sure of this at all as he
watched Wong tinkering with the computer that morning while the boys were all
at breakfast.**
**And Wong wasn't the only one tinkering.**
**In his office at HKS3, Hop Sing's father was busily going over what Wong
did, unbeknownst to Wong, who knew nothing about the virus-like chip implanted
in the boy's neck and its interface with his collar. And the chip was working
beautifully, too. Tsu smiled. He could sell the patent on this chip, and he
would be set for life.**
**If only he'd known that it would work...before he'd been forced to send his
son to San Carlos Island.**
**And if that wasn't enough to worry about, An Dong - his eldest son at almost
17 - had called to say that he'd gotten his girlfriend pregnant!**
**"Why me?" Tsu wondered, as he stared at the glaring bug in Ben Toeber's
software upgrade.**
**It was obvious what that bug was going to do. He'd told Wong over and over
again.**
**But there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. He knew, and Wong knew
that he knew. So if the bug didn't do its thing, right when it should, Wong
would know that he'd corrected it. That thought sent shivers through him.
Wong's advice to him, when he'd tried to explain the glitch that would
randomly leave some boy on the island "invisible" to the security tracking
system via his collar, had been: "I'd suggest you just DO your job, Tsu, and
think about Guo Jian while you're doing it."**
**And so there was really nothing that Tsu could do.**
**Nothing but watch and wait, and suffer right along with his son.**
**He just prayed that Wong didn't get a hold of him while he was there on the
island.**
**Hop Sing, still at breakfast with his friends, didn't know yet.**
**But Hop Sing wouldn't have worried about it too much, had he known. At the
moment, he was too worried about Sander. Finally, that previous night, he'd
been able to get through to him. The sight of his only friend, battered and
dirty from his first hard day at work, had been all that Sander could take.
He'd been brusque at first, lecturing him about how "I told you so," but he
hadn't been mean to Hop Sing. Instead, he'd cleaned him up and put him to bed.
Then he'd apologized. Then the proverbial dam had broken, and everything that
had been hurting Sander from his first day on the island came spilling out.
He'd gone to sleep, cuddling the damaged boy in bed with him, convinced that
he could rehabilitate him. It had made his first terrible day on the job all
worth it to Hop Sing.**
**Chris had been skeptical, though. Having beaten up Sander at least twice
while Hop Sing was recovering from his nullification, he didn't believe a word
of it. Chris had once been Sander's best friend, but the whole ordeal with
Sander's father had ruined that. Hop Sing wasn't sure if the two of them could
ever make up, but at least they had shaken hands on it with Chris promising to
put Sander in the hospital again if he started acting like he had before.**
**Matti was another story. Ben was furious with him for not having lived up to
his agreement to talk to Sander and for not taking advantage of Ben's
permitting him to see the boy while he was working. Actually, Ben had never
forbidden it. It was all Matti. There was nothing in his trainers' contract
that said he couldn't socialize with - or fuck - former trainees. Hell, for
all Ben cared, he could marry Sander! It had all been Matti's idea, and the
boys thought that they knew why.**
**"We don't know shit about him," Timmy said at breakfast. "All we know is Ben
sold him to someone bad and got him back. He's probably just as fucked up in
the head as Sander is!"**
**"Thanks," Sander mumbled, as he got up to take their trays. "Have a fun day.
I won't."**
**Dressed in a red collar and a long white apron, Sander was being punished by
being taken off of active duty. He was washing dishes that morning. Then he
got to mow the golf course. He would also be serving at lunch. Then more
dishes, more mowing, dishes at dinner, and then cleaning leaves and such out
of the main pool before it got dark. If nothing else, Ben figured that he
could spare the boy being sold to someone worse - where he'd probably commit
suicide - and still not have to pay any other employees for grounds upkeep.
Actually, it had only been Hop Sing's tearful pleas for his friend to stay
that had swayed Ben. Ben had already been convinced to sell Sander to Lester
Delray. He hated the thought, and it pained him. Ben had to hand it to Hop
Sing, though. He had one hell of a heart.**
**The boys headed out to face the day. Timmy was grinning, but then again, he
always was. So was Chris. Lewie, who had run to catch up with them and was
holding Hop Sing's hand, was chattering again. He never stopped.**
**"Wear me out," he was saying, "Like to fuck, but all day! I go sleep, miss
dinner yes-ser-day!" He went on, scratching at his butt. He didn't know what
it had been for, but he'd given a suppository right along with Hop Sing. "And
can't pee! Have to get tube to pee! Why?"**
**"You fuck too much," Timmy told him, tussling his hair. "You know, he is
kinda cute. If I had a penis, I think I'd fuck him!"**
**"It's a good thing you don't," Chris laughed, as they met up with their
appointments near the pool. The busy season had gone off at a very good start,
and the boys were all booked. Hop Sing steeled himself, wishing he was doing
dishes with Sander, and greeted his first client of the day.**
**It was easy. The man only had a 5", slender cock, and he fell asleep right
after the first fuck. He'd also been drinking, and failed to make Hop Sing
cum. Not by a long shot - but the boy didn't care. Hop Sing didn't know what
to do, but his collar told him to just hang out and make sure the guy was fine
and try to wake him up. Hop Sing made a report to his collar and used his free
time - since his client was passed out - to go for a quick swim. His next
client had him in the pool, in the shallow end, where Timmy was also busy.
Then their clients thought that it would be arousing to watch two nullos
cuddle. The boys did that. It didn't bother Hop Sing in the least, because he
could sense that Timmy needed to be cuddled in a nonsexual way, too. And Timmy
seemed to realize it, too - right before they both got a good, long fucking
again. Both of them orgasmed, and both of them fainted. Their clients were
amazed, and scored them at 100%. They even took them to the gift shoppe
afterwards and bought them both a gold bracelet and a cold soda. "I always
trade these back in," Timmy whispered to Hop Sing, "I've only got like a dozen
of them already!" But they wore their bracelets to their next jobs, which
aroused their third clients so much that they almost missed lunch. Hop Sing
saw an opportunity and took it.**
**Later that afternoon, after his scheduled nap, Hop Sing found Sander on the
golf course. The boy was dressed - wearing clothes - and Hop Sing almost
didn't know him. Sander was wearing a white work shirt with his name on it,
and lightweight khaki shorts. He also had sunglasses and a ridiculous white
hat, along with work boots. When he saw Hop Sing coming across the grass, he
took a few steps and fell right on his face. "Stupid boots!" He complained,
"Look at me! What is this getup?" He demanded, "What you got there?" He then
asked.**
**Hop Sing was carrying a small box, and it was steaming in the heat. He gave
it to Sander. "A client liked me so much he bought me treats," the boy
explained, his face red again. Sander gasped when he was the liter bottle of
cola and a huge chocolate bar in the portable cooler.**
**"You'll get in trouble!" He exclaimed. Sander hadn't had such treats in a
long time. His clients never bought him things.**
**"No, he won't," Hop Sing's collar told him.**
**Sander looked around. "Mine's been chatting at me, too, like that," Sander
whispered to Hop Sing. "It told me to watch my back, that something bad was
going to happen! Should we tell Ben?" He then drank some of the cola and
shivered in delight.**
**"You can't tell, boys," their collars spoke up in stereo. "No one will
believe you. And you'd be punished. Just be careful. Never be alone and watch
your backs! You're both in danger. But you cannot tell anyone yet. YET!"**
**"Thank you," Sander said, looking very confused as he finished his candy. He
hugged his friend. Hop Sing kissed him goodbye and told him he had to go and
have his next job. Sander went back to mowing grass and dodging golf balls. He
was so distracted that he nearly ran over Chris and a guest, who were going at
it on the 14th hole! "Something bad," Sander was wondering, as he mowed on.**
**Despite having his father's voice in his collar to reassure him, Hop Sing
was again a wreck by the end of the day. He'd been used - as he had come to
think of it as Sander did - eight times that day by Chinese clients. They were
all very taken with him, they all bought him gifts and tipped him, but that
didn't make it any better. His butt was still sore, he still felt dirty no
matter how much he bathed and scrubbed, and he just plain didn't like being
fucked! It was all he could do to NOT run away screaming, or attack his
clients. He was entertaining a whimsical notion that he could always go and
find Matti and work him over to relieve the tensions! But he didn't. He hadn't
seen Matti all day long, and neither had Sander. But at least Sander got to
keep living with them in their dorm, and he still got to eat with them. That
was some comfort, even though Sander didn't see it that way.**
**Hop Sing was paged right after dinner to report to Ben's office again.**
**Of course he was nervous, he always was, even though Ben was usually nice to
him. He was refreshed after his shower, clean outside and inside, fed, but
still tired. He was yawning as he entered the office to find Lewie already
asleep on one of the couches. He also saw another man sitting at Ben's desk,
chatting. He did a double-take. It couldn't be...?**
**"Uncle John?" Hop Sing squeaked in disbelief. "What...what are YOU doing
here?"**
**John Wong stood up, his face a study in surprise. Before him stood the boy
he'd always secretly lusted after. The boy who called him "uncle", the boy who
had no idea. And he was still as beautiful as Wong remembered him.**
**No, more beautiful.**
**Hop Sing was now a nullo.**
**The smooth space between his legs only added to his beauty, and Wong was
almost faint at the sight of the golden-tan bald boy with no genitals facing
him. The boy's smile lit the room, and Wong almost fainted at the very sight
of him.**
**He wanted him.**
**"Hop," Ben spoke up, "Your uncle does what business?" Ben played with him.**
**"Security!" Hop Sing nodded, as he ran to Wong. Wong caught him up and spun
him around, kissing him and squeezing so tight that it hurt his ribs. Hop Sing
returned the affections. He was so happy to see his uncle again. It had been
so long, and he'd been so miserable. Uncle John was someone from home, and Hop
Sing so needed that.**
**"And your collar is what?" Ben asked.**
**"Security!" Hop Sing laughed, "Uncle came to work on your system, Ben!" Hop
Sing leaned back, facing Wong, "You know," he whispered, "what they do here,
Uncle?" As if it were some great secret. "You don't have to wear clothes, you
know."**
**"I know, but I'm here to work," Wong explained. "I can't work on Ben's
computer naked, can I?"**
**"Do you...do you like to do what the guests do...to us?" Hop Sing asked,
suddenly realizing that his "uncle" never had married and didn't have children
of his own. He wondered. He was naive, he knew, but he wasn't that dumb!**
**"Sometimes," Wong confessed, "But only here. It's not proper to just go
around and pick up odd boys for sex. And NO," Wong headed off Hop Sing's next
question, "I NEVER ever did anything to your brothers. Did I ever do anything
like that to YOU?"**
**"No, sir!" Hop Sing smiled at him, still so happy to see him that it didn't
really bother him that his uncle liked little boys. Only hindsight would tell
him much, much later that he should have seen it all coming.**
**"Well, John, since you've been all day working, and the system is fine now,"
Ben said, "Why don't you and Hop Sing spend some quality time together while
he's off duty? He can show you his room, and tomorrow, on his break time, he
can show you around and what he likes to do for fun here?"**
**"Would you like that?" Wong asked the boy.**
**Hop Sing nodded. He was so choked up and happy to see a familiar face that
he could only cling to Wong and cry in happiness.**
**It never even crossed his mind, what his father had told him when they'd
first arrived on the island - "You silly boy, your uncle is the reason that
you're here!" He'd totally forgotten it.**
**"You wanna see my room, an' meet my friends?" Hop Sing asked anxiously.**
**Wong said that he would. Actually, he'd already had Lewie and was sexually
satisfied for the moment. And while he couldn't hurt him, not right there in
Ben's office, he had fucked the smaller boy harder than most did. Lewie was
scared at first, but he got used to it fast. The kid was a slut, Wong saw, and
he got off twice before he had even pulled out of the boy and gone soft. Lewie
had even made him cum again, cleaning him with his mouth. Then Wong had
praised him lavishly, given him a soda (diet, no caffeine or other drugs) and
the boy had gone to sleep in his lap. Ben demanded a quality report. Wong said
that Lewie was beyond repute!**
**But there was Hop Sing - tanned, beautiful, nullified - no longer a real
boy. Wong was getting aroused again. He suppressed it. It wasn't the time,
anyway. He could wait. What was one more day? Besides, the island was full of
boys - and he had his part of Tsu's money to spend, in addition to what Ben
offered him commission only. Wong laughed inwardly that he would be giving Ben
back some of the money that Ben had paid Tsu for the boy, and that he'd soon
be fucking this boy - whether Ben approved or not. It was all part of the
security upgrade; the system would never even know that Wong had fucked Hop
Sing.**
**Besides, if all went according to plan, it was going to be a moot point
anyway.**
**Wong wanted Hop Sing.**
**Wanted him for his own.**
**He wanted to fuck him.**
**"Where's Sander?" Wong asked the boy, holding his hand tightly as they
walked to the dorm hotel.**
**"He lives with me! You know him, Uncle?"**
**"I know OF him, a friend of mine knew him here some time ago."**
**Hop Sing sighed. "I love Sander, he's my brother, but he's really messed
up," Hop Sing offered. "He has to cut grass and do dishes now. He can't have
sex with guests anymore."**
**Wong stopped in his tracks.**
**"What? Why?"**
**"They don't like him. They say he's a "dead fuck". What's that mean,
Uncle?"**
**Wong laughed. He wondered how Delray would take that one when he found out!
It seemed to serve him right, Wong thought. He knew full well what Delray had
in mind for Sander, and even though he liked to hurt boys, he was amazed at
some of the things that Delray did to his victims. Sander was messed up, Hop
had just said? _A dead fuck_?! Well, Wong thought, he'll REALLY be messed up
soon!**
**Wong tried to explain it as they rode the elevator up to the tenth floor. At
the fifth floor, they picked up Sean, the Irish kid, and Pudge. Hop Sing was
bursting to introduce his uncle. Both boys hugged and kissed him, then went
down the hall to their dorm. Hop Sing palmed the door panel, and the door
opened.**
**The boys were sitting on the balcony, watching the sun set and sipping fruit
drinks.**
**"One day, and I swear, I'm gonna die," Sander was complaining. "I ran over a
golf ball with the mower, and it almost hit a guy! Do you know how far those
things can FLY?"**
**"Guys!" Hop Sing shouted happily, "Look! This is my uncle John! He came to
work on Ben's computer! He's gonna be here for a while!"**
**Wong introduced himself to the boys, all of whom had a hug for him. Even
Sander. Hop Sing had, as he'd claimed, made a good friend of him.**
**_So much the better_ , Wong thought, as he took in Sander's beauty. _I can
see why Lester wanted him so badly!_**
**__ Hop Sing was also thrilled to find that his uncle had brought his last
birthday gift - the electric antique train set - with him. It was set up and
running in the playroom. Hop Sing was so happy that he was chattering like
Lewie.**
**Finally, Timmy broke in and got him calmed down.**
**"So, Hop, did you know your uncle liked little nullo-boys?" Timmy asked
provocatively.**
**"Give it up, you're off duty, you little slut!" Chris smacked his arm.**
**"Hey, you gotta work," Timmy justified it. "And just because HE has to work,
don't mean he can't have fun while he's here!" Hop Sing almost died of
embarrassment.**
**"Yes, but not with HIM or his brothers. That family, it's different," Wong
explained.**
**"Awww," Timmy whined, "You're no fun!"**
**_No fun_?! Wong thought. _I'll show you FUN, you slutty little bastard!_ "It
wouldn't be right," Wong repeated. _._**
**"Oh," Timmy nodded; it was clear that he didn't get it, though. Timmy had a
one-track mind, and it was stuck on sex! Wong made a mental note to book him
the day that he planned to leave the island. He'd show Timmy a fun time - IF
he lived through it, that was, he'd never forget it!**
**They watched an old movie that night, and Wong found himself almost driven
to distraction by the attentions paid him by the four boys. Hop Sing, ever the
noble one, was willing to share his uncle with his friends. And from what Wong
could see, the boys didn't see him as a client. Clients were not allowed in
the boys' rooms, and Wong was a guest on a family visit. It was touching, the
way they just sat there and clung to him and leaned in for the petting he gave
them. They were almost all like puppies around him, and Wong wondered at the
change. Every other boy he'd ever seen on the island wasn't like that. The
love was an illusion. But the love in that room was not. It was genuine. In
being Hop Sing's "uncle", Wong thought, he was bringing the boys some reminder
of home and family.**
**It almost made him regret that he got off on hurting boys.**
**ALMOST.**
**When the computer signaled bedtime, he then tucked each of them in and
kissed them all goodnight, surprised that Sander and Hop Sing slept
together.**
**He went back to the guest hotel with a wicked grin on his face.**
**"You wouldn't believe it," He told Delray, via a secure connection he'd
rigged through the communications system, telling him all about what he'd just
seen and done. He'd found and shut off the bugs in his room, both video and
audio, and had the computer feeding Ben's files a prearranged fake video of
himself sleeping.**
**"You can cuddle him all you want, if you don't kill him," Delray said in an
icy tone. "Just so long as I get Sander! I don't care WHAT you do there!"**
**Back in the boys' dorm, Hop Sing's collar whispered to him. "Be careful,
Q.," it said, in the tone of his father, "And watch out for your uncle.
Remember, I told you he was the reason you were there?"**
**But Hop Sing still didn't make the connection. He was still too happy over
seeing his uncle again.**
**Someone who was suspicious, though, was Sander. But he didn't say a thing.
He didn't want to spoil Hop Sing's happiness.**
**The next day was another work day. Wong spent the day on the computer, but
he did take a break at Ben's insistence to "enjoy the scenery." That meant
that he got to use a boy for only the charge of the boy's commission
percentage. Wong ended up with Ty, the black boy who'd only been penectomized
and still had his nonfunctional balls attached. When he was done, Ty had a
very sore butt and his balls were aching from all the squeezing. But then
again, he was used to that. It was part of his job, being only without a
penis. It turned some of the clients on, and Wong had enjoyed the pain that he
could inflict on him.**
**But by that night, he'd made up his mind.**
**He was going to execute the plan the next day.**
**He even knew how to make it so perfect.**
**First, he'd find Sander somewhere. The boy was out alone, working, and the
bug in the security system would lie to anyone who asked where he was. Of
course, once he had the boy off the island, he would unlock the collar and
leave it somewhere - probably on the far side of the island or just throw it
into the ocean. Then the bug would go away, repair itself, and they would find
out that Sander - miserable beyond hope - had killed himself. There would be a
note, too. Wong would force Sander to write one, and leave it for Hop Sing.**
**Then he'd corner Hop Sing somewhere, using the same bug beforehand, and rape
him.**
**He wanted that...**
**To rape him.**
**The thought of how it would shatter the boy's illusions excited him.**
**And so did the thought of training the boy learn that pain - pain inflicted
by his uncle who loved him - would be just a form of pleasure, an expression
of his great love. Hop sing hated sex, they'd told him. Even the boy had told
him that first night. But Wong was going to make him learn to like it. A
lot.**
**Then, after he'd secured Sander somewhere on the far side of the unused part
of the overgrown island, Wong knew that Hop Sing would find the note and come
looking for him. Hop Sing would sneak out, and no one would miss him. The bug
would tell everyone that Hop Sing was in bed that night. Hop Sing was with a
client all day. Hop Sing was napping...and when they found out about it, it
would be too late.**
**Both Sander and Hop Sing would be miles away, without their collars, and in
the hands of Lester Delray.**
**And everyone would think that they were dead.**
**But in the meantime, there was Timmy to deal with.**
**Wong couldn't wait to get him alone. As he worked and thought it out, he
added Timmy to the equation. He couldn't have cared less about Chris. The
spikey-haired white boy did nothing for him. He didn't even want to hurt him.
He had no interest in Chris at all. But Timmy - the little slut - Timmy, who
had propositioned him and said that he was no fun!**
**He'd show Timmy fun, alright!**
**Timmy would have so much fun that he might even die of it!**
**Wong busily began hacking into Timmy's files as well, programming the
subroutine that monitored his collar to lie, too. That was three of them. Two
who'd be gone, never to return to San Carlos Island, and one who would either
be dead - or left behind and be so physically damaged that he'd be worthless.
He might even have a stroke or burst an aneurysm, Wong realized. So much the
better. It was perfect revenge for Ben having banned him and Lester Delray so
long ago. He'd show Ben. He'd teach him a lesson.**
**But Wong wasn't the only one hard at work.**
**Finding the areas of the computer that watched over and recorded his son,
Sander, and suddenly another boy - Timmy - all inaccessible, Tsu went into the
other roomie's file - Chris. Then he remembered something he'd overheard on
the audio, when he listened to Hop Sing's days...Lewie! That other little
Chinese boy that had attached himself to Hop Sing, too. He went in and took
over Lewie's database. Then he began his plans to contact Ben Toeber.**
**Had it not been for the safety of his other sons, Tsu would have contacted
him sooner.**
**But first, he HAD to find a safe place for them. He had to hide them, first.
Yet he knew that if Wong was there to steal Sander, as he surmised from what
he'd seen of the computer bug so far, he also had to assume that Wong would
probably try and make a grab for Hop Sing as well.**
**Tsu just hoped that all the money he'd spent on Kung Fu lessons for the boy
would pay off.**
**For the sake of his three brothers, and his mother, Hop Sing was going to be
- literally - all alone on this adventure.**
**Wong certified the computer to be in perfect condition the next day, and
then took Ben up on his offer. He scouted around the island, knowing that
Delray's men would have the equipment in place. According to the computer, the
far side of the island wasn't monitored well. Not that it mattered. Wong's bug
in the system had that covered, too. It wouldn't take much for Delray to get a
submarine positioned just inside the reef around the island at the one deep
spot. Then someone could be sent on an ATV to rendezvous, and they would leave
the island under the cover of darkness and water.**
**Their next stop would be Delray's complex just off the coast of Chile, where
the boys would wake up to a whole new life.**
**A life of pain.**
**A life of pleasure.**
**If they were good, they'd be rewarded. But if they were bad...**
**Wong was getting excited. He checked the schedule. Timmy's late morning
appointment had cancelled. _Poor man, must have been his drink,_ Wong laughed
to himself, when in fact, he'd already known the client who had Timmy booked
and slipped enough of a drug into his drink to take down a horse. That had
freed up Timmy, and Wong couldn't wait.**
**He met the cocky little slave near the pool, as was usual. Timmy was happy
to see him, and when Wong scanned his collar, Timmy's eyes went wide. "You
wanna find out IF I'm any fun?" Wong asked him. Timmy didn't have to be told
twice, and followed Wong back to his room. "But I like for people to watch,
sir!" Timmy protested, which got him a rough jerk to the arm. Timmy's eyes
went wider. "I hope you like it rough," Wong told him. Timmy reminded him that
clients couldn't hurt boys - it wasn't allowed and the collars monitored them
all to make sure. Wong laughed and tossed Timmy through the door, locking
it.**
**Timmy just lay there on the floor, unsure of what to do.**
**"You don't like rough play?" Wong asked him, teasingly. Timmy smiled and
thought that he was playing with him. _Stupid little slut,_ Wong thought,
going to his suitcase to find what he'd need. He'd hadn't come prepared, but
just as he'd planned, the sealed bag that he had wanted has washed up on the
beach the past night, right on schedule. It contained his favorite toys ...
for boys.**
**"Timmy, do you like bondage, and leather?" Wong asked. "I do!"**
**Timmy, who had only had one fuck so far that day, said that he did. "You
gonna tie me up?" He squeaked in delight.**
**Wong did more than that. As he laid the slave boy out on the bed, he
attached thick leather cuffs to Timmy's wrists and ankles, securing him on his
stomach, spread-eagled. Then he placed a red ball gag in his mouth, tightening
it. He then produced a small enema bulb, and injected Timmy's rectum with
something cool and tingling. "I like my boys helpless, bound, and unable to
cry out," Wong whispered in his ear, licking it. Timmy shuddered. Wong then
penetrated him, using only the residuals from Timmy's last enema for lube. It
was a surprise for Timmy, and he squealed into his gag. Wong was large, and he
entered the boy in one hard thrust. Then he began to fuck him - hard.**
**Something was wrong, Timmy knew as soon as Wong entered him. He tried to
scream at his collar for help, but the gag wouldn't let him. He couldn't spit
it out, and he couldn't move. The only thing that saved him from being torn
open was the extra lube he always shot up into himself, just in case. This
time, it saved him. "You're very loose," Wong told him. "I don't like that.
I'll have to punish you for it," he told Timmy, who was struggling in vain to
get out of his restraints. "You only get to see the first one," Wong told him,
as he rode him violently. Timmy cried, but Wong ignored it. Still, the slave
boy was too well trained and he liked it too much. Even though it hurt, even
though he was scared out of his mind, he moved with Wong and used his ass to
pleasure him. Wong came, and when he did, he collapsed on the bound boy and
squashed him. Timmy thought he'd suffocate before Wong rolled off.**
**"Now," Wong panted, as he got a cold drink and rested a bit. He didn't offer
to untie Timmy, who hadn't orgasmed. Wong had made sure of that, in stroking
up and not down, so as to avoid stimulating the boy's prostate too much. Then
he produced a rubber hood with a suction bulb on it. He placed it over Timmy's
head, but the boy was helpless to avoid it. "Sensory deprivation, Timmy. Once
I seal the hood, you'll be blind, deaf, and it keeps all smells out. The ball
gag won't let you taste, either, so all you'll have it TOUCH. And you will
have touch, Timmy! This will be a fuck you'll never forget!" And then Wong
sealed the hood over his head.**
**Timmy screamed.**
**Then Wong fucked him again, this time, making sure that the boy came as
well. He'd removed the ankle cuffs, repositioning them so that Timmy's legs
were raised and secured to the headboard. It was the optimal position, and he
battered the boy's prostate with his cock. Timmy shook his head, but no sound
escaped the gag. The only sign that he had orgasmed, a dry one, Wong saw - was
when he stopped moving. Wong used smelling salts to revive him.**
**Inside the hood, immobilized, Timmy was scared out of his mind. Why hadn't
the collar reported his condition? Why hadn't it picked up his vitals and
called for help, or why hadn't anyone been monitoring him? He was in a guest's
room - that meant that someone was always watching on security video! He was
in trouble, yet no one was coming for him? And how - how - could Hop Sing's
uncle do this to him? He was so nice! Hop Sing loved him! But Timmy couldn't
dwell on it. He was torn between pleasure and panic. Unable to see or hear,
his only sensation was the fucking going on in his ass. And it was a hard one.
No one had ever fucked him so hard. Wong was hurting him, but the orgasm that
was coming, Timmy knew, would be devastating. He wanted to get loose, but he
also wanted the orgasm.**
**In security, the cameras played back an empty room for the guard watching
Wong's suite.**
**Timmy fainted when it came, but something smelly woke him up. Then he felt
something else being put up inside of him. Something large. And another new
sensation - something being put up his peehole! The suction of the hood
relaxed a bit, and Timmy could hear again.**
**"This is a nice plug for you, Timmy," Wong was saying, as the plug was
forced in. "I've coated it with some of that stuff they stick up your butts
for boys that don't wanna fuck. You're going to itch inside, Timmy. And your
prostate will swell up. But when I inflate this plug, and it begins to
vibrate, it'll work itself back and forth, like an automated fucking machine!
All you have to do is lay there and you can cum, over and over again, all day
long. Why, in fact, I've actually seen boys DIE of pleasure from this setup
I'm giving you! Won't that be fun, you little slut?" Wong asked him harshly.
Timmy then felt a searing pain in his buttocks as Wong whipped him with
something. He screamed again as the plug was inflated and began to vibrate and
caress his swollen prostate. Then Wong was putting that thing up his
peehole.**
**"The probe," Wong told him, "is tight. I'm sure you feel it. It's got a
small battery in it, and it'll sit right inside your prostate and vibrate,
too. Every now and then, it'll deliver a small shock to your prostate. One bad
thing is that it makes it impossible for you to pee, although you'll feel the
urgent need to do so the whole time. You're going to cum, Timmy, all day long,
nonstop! What's that?" Wong mocked him, "No, I'm leaving. You see, Sander and
Hop Sing and I have a date with some very bad men. They're leaving with me,
and they're not coming back. I hope you don't miss them too much, but then
again, it doesn't matter. You see, Timmy, I'm leaving you here. There's a
virus loose in Ben's precious security system, and it thinks that you're with
a client somewhere else. Later, it'll lie and say you're in your room.**
**"No one knows you're here, Timmy, and housekeeping doesn't come until
tomorrow morning. But by this afternoon, maybe this evening, you'll either be
dead - or hopelessly insane. Sensory deprivation does that to a person. You
see, the body can only take so much pleasure! You can't pee, and you can't get
a drink. You can't see or hear. The drugs in your rectum, too, are going to
make you horny and keep you conscious! You're overdosed, Timmy, and your heart
and nerves won't be able to stand it!" Wong then paused to thrash the boy's
buttocks again, leaving angry red welts. "You're going to orgasm to death,
Timmy," Wong promised him. "Tell me I'm no fun, indeed! Isn't THIS fun,
Timmy?" Wong demanded.**
**Timmy struggled, but it was no use. He was trapped.**
**"Goodbye, Timmy," Wong told him, sealing the hood again.**
**He then gathered up his things and went to find Sander and Hop Sing, leaving
Timmy alone in his quiet darkness with the electronic plugs working at him. It
didn't take long for the orgasms to begin - orgasms from which Timmy could not
escape.**
**_Someone help me_! Timmy thought wildly, _I don't wanna die! Help!_**
**__ But there was no way he could call for help, and when Chris asked his
collar where Timmy was, it told him that he was at the beach with a client. **
**Wong first went in search of Hop Sing.**
* * * |
Pussy Envy 4 | TESTICLES | I had a female cousin - Katie. She was of my age and lived not far from ours.
That day I was playing with her in our garden. There were only two of us; my
parents and sister were out in town. We romped around for about for half an
hour and then Katie said:
"Just wait a bit, Gene, I have to go and take a pee."
And she went off into the bushes. After she disappeared behind the leafy
stems, I discreetly sneaked up to the bushes and started peeping. On noticing
me, she exclaimed "Gene!" and got abruptly up to her feet, pulling her panties
up and adjusting the skirt.
"Shame on you," she said coming out of the bushes, "It's not good peeping such
things. You, boys, are lucky - you can go behind any tree and pee there
standing upright."
"You envy boys?" I asked.
"Yeah, you, boys, have peters. It's so convenient."
"But do you know that all boys, and me too, are very weak down there?"
"Where?"
"Didn't you ever kick a boy between his legs?"
"No," she said. And that was true. Katie being rather a shy girl, never had
tried to abuse any boy's groin. I suddenly felt a great wish to show her how
having a convenient peter meant possessing vulnerable sack in the bargain. And
I said:
"Katie, you must kick somebody in the balls to see how you are lucky not to
have them."
"Kick? But who?"
As there was only one pair of testicles around, I said:
"I guess you should kick me. There's no other boy over here."
"Will that hurt you?"
"Sure it will, nothing can be more hurting than balls kicked."
"But why then.., why do you wanna be hurt?"
"Just because you envy me my having a peter. And to be true I sometimes envy
girls..."
"Envy girls what?"
"I envy ..," I stammered, "well.., you see, I don't care much about my wiener
and balls. You may hurt them alright. Okay, let's go inside the house not to
let anybody see us."
Soon we were in my room. I took my stand opposite Katie, my legs wide apart.
"Come on," I urged her, "give me a good kick!"
"No, no, I can't," the girl hesitated.
"Why, it's so easy - just kick me and you'll never envy any boy, no more."
"No, Pete, I.., I..,"
"Well, do it half your strength then, you'll see balls are so easy to hurt."
"Pete, maybe next time..."
"Alright, let me show you how I'm weak down there - just give me a flick in
the balls," I yanked my pants down to reveal my boyish possessions to Katie.
"Here are my balls - just flick them."
Katie wavered for a while, then stepped up to me, raised her hand close to my
balls and gave a light flick to one of my testicles.
"Ouch," I exclaimed painfully, clutching my scrotum and stooping over.
Katie gave a light giggle:
"You're pretending, Pete. It can't hurt you. It's just a flick."
The pain indeed didn't last long. Very soon I was standing straight up again,
feeling just slight aching in the testicle.
"No, I'm not pretending at all. It's really painful. You can't understand it
because you've no balls. Now just kick my balls to see me in real pain."
"Pete, I've no wish to hurt you."
"Katie, please..."
"Pete, I believe now that boys' balls are very weak. Please pull back your
pants up."
"But you haven't seen how weak my balls are yet. Okay, I'll hurt my balls
myself to make you see..."
I looked about the room, saw a plastic ruler on the table and reached my hand
out to grasp it.
"Just look here," I exclaimed, placing the ruler close to my groin. I pulled
down the end that was beneath my scrotum and then suddenly released it,
letting the ruler flew back right up into my hanging testicles. This time the
pain was a score times greater. My legs at once softened and I collapsed onto
the floor. For a few seconds I couldn't even breathe, and then emitted a long
moan. Clutching my throbbing balls in my both hands, I wanted to tell my
cousin how they were terribly aching and how I wished they were replaced
somehow by the thing she had between her legs, the thing that couldn't be so
easily abused just with a ruler flick. But I couldn't say anything but groan.
Instead of laughing at me Katie just cried out: "Idiot!" and ran outside.
I hadn't seen her for about two weeks till she suddenly appeared in our garden
with her girlfriend Ira. They both came up to me and Katie said:
"Hi, Pete! We came to ask.., well.., do you remember you wanted me to kick you
in the balls?".
"Sure, I do," I replied.
Katie smiled and said: "I came to say I want to kick you now. If you still
wish, of course."
"I'm not sure," I looked at Ira, "you're not alone now."
"You said you envied girls, do you still do?"
"Yeah, I still do," I replied.
Katie turned to her girlfriend:
"You see, Pete, Ira says she envies boys the way they pee. I guess she envies
them badly, so you can help her. I want you to stand by some tree and pee onto
it with your legs wide apart. And that's when I'll kick you between your legs
from behind."
I couldn’t believe what I'd just heard. Girls wanted to get some proof of the
fact that being a girl meant possessing a body that I was so envious of.
Surely I was ready to help them in that.
"I agree," I said without any hesitation. "Let's do it by that oak."
We walked up to the tree, I took a position facing a wide trunk of the old
oak, spread my legs, unzipped my pants and took my penis out. The both girls
stood right behind me.
"Pee," I heard Katie command and let a squirt of urine out onto the tree bark.
To add more excitement to the situation, I started teasing girls
provocatively:
"Hey, girls, see what I can. I can write my name on the tree trunk with my
piss. No girl can do that! It's nice to have a peter. No need to squat down to
take a pee! Being a girl sucks!
All of a sudden I felt a foot flew into my crotch from behind. It was Katie
who so broke off my speech. A killing pain pierced my testicles to make me let
out a shrill scream. My penis bounced up, letting the urine squirt splash over
my shirt, my hands grasped my balls and I tumbled down.
"Balls, balls, my balls," I was trying to say something else but the burning
pain in my testicles didn't allow me to utter any other words.
The girls started giggling and Katie said:
"You see, Ira, how boys are weak down there. No doubt Pete would prefer now to
be a girl rather than a boy with all that ability to write words on trees with
his piss. There's nothing more embarrassing for boys than being so easily put
in so much pain by girls. By girls who have neither peters, nor balls to be so
weak down there."
I just groaned to express my agreement with Katie's words and squeezed my poor
balls harder. I looked up at the girls' shapely legs, at their short skirts
that covered their groins, the groins I envied so badly, and then looked at my
hand holding my own groin. The girls noticed my eyes' movement and the jealous
gleam in them, and gave out a loud laugh...
* * * |
|
Errors of Judgement | TESTICLES | Never rush to judgement before you have the facts. The consequences can be tragic | ` Errors of Judgement `
by
Kortpeel
When I came to I wished I hadn't. Every part of me hurt and I couldn't see
properly. My groan of pain was cut off because it hurt my throat to make any
sound.
"Derek, you awake?"
"Struth! It was my old man. He hadn't changed much in the eight years since
I'd seen him. He got up from the chair and came over to my hospital bed.
It was good therapy. I forgot about the injuries and the pain. My mind went
back to the last time I'd seen him. His very last words to me had been "Fuck
off you lousy faggot. You're no son of mine. I don't want to see you ever
again."
I hadn't tried to explain. How can you talk to someone who won't listen? I did
as bid. Just as well he didn't hit me. He'd have liked to do so. He's an ex-
marine, proud of it and he was still keeping up an exercise regime that met
the marines' idea of being fit for active duty. My old man preached and
practiced non-violence as a discipline. It didn't come naturally to him.
I'm as non-violent as you can get. I dislike violence, especially being on the
receiving end of it. Which last thought made me remember my condition and the
pain started up again.
I groaned. I couldn't help it.
"I'm sorry, Derek. Part of this is my fault."
My attempt at speech sounded even to me like something between a grunt and a
croak. I'd been hurt more than I'd realized. I panicked as I tried to move my
arms and neither of them would respond.
"Your arms are in plaster. They'll mend." The old man surprised me with his
observation. He could be quite sensitive at times, in his own callous way.
He poured a glass of water and held it to my lips. He let me take only a small
sip at a time. I'd have swallowed it in one gulp to put out the fire that was
raging in my throat.
"Hello dad." At least I could speak.
He took my hands in his and would have squeezed them hard if he hadn't seen me
wince in anticipation.
He stopped and gave a sort of helpless shrug. For some reason I felt sorry for
him, perhaps the tears in his eyes that he was blinking back. Stupid. I was
broken and helpless and there he was, late fifties and as fit and as strong as
ever.
"How do you feel, son?"
"Not good. What happened?"
"You don't know?" What's the last thing you remember?"
Gee! What did I remember? Nothing much. My mind was fuzzy and I had to force
myself to think. I'd been passing through on the train. It had stopped and I'd
made a spur of the moment decision to get off, stay overnight and have a look
around. I hadn't been back in eight years and I'd had a whim to see my old
hometown. I'd grown up and gone to school here.
It was still Nowheresville. I'd always thought that and nothing had happened
in the last eight years to change my mind. I remembered I'd decided to give up
with it. I cut short my planned walk around and headed back to the mean little
hotel to have a drink in its mean little bar. I'd be out of here on the 8 am
train next morning.
I told dad that. He asked me a few more questions. Where had I walked? What
time would that be?
I sensed he was stalling for some reason. "C'mon dad. What did happen last
night?"
"Last night? Derek, you been in a coma for six weeks."
It took a moment for that to sink in. "Dad, I gotta make a call."
He set me up with a hospital headset telephone but it was difficult to dial
with both arms in plaster. Dad disappeared saying that he was going to tell
them I'd woken up. After all my effort to press the buttons the number was
busy.
A doctor and three nurses came in. They all wore an expression like I was
Lazarus back from the dead. Come to think of it I, Derek Stetler, was pretty
well back from the dead.
I smiled back at them. They asked questions. How was I feeling? Where did it
hurt? Wiggle your toes, your fingers and a whole lot more in that vein.
After portable X-rays on my arms the doctor declared the plaster could come
off. There wasn't much improvement when it did. My arms were so stiff and weak
that I could barely bend the elbows. It hurt like hell even to try. Knees
seemed okay though.
"Can I get up?"
"Let's try," the doctor said. Two of the nurses helped me out of bed. My legs
couldn't take my weight and the nurses stopped me from falling. It all started
hurting again and I got faint.
"Get him back into bed," the doctor told them.
"No," I cried. "Let's keep trying."
We did keep trying with the result that not five minutes later I did faint but
I had walked and I could bend my elbows. I didn't mind. It was just a matter
of time and I'd be okay.
I slept right through until next morning. The old man was there when I woke
up. For a guy who'd never wanted to see me again I thought that was dutiful.
That's the marines for you. I got him to give me a spot of walking practice.
It was a hundred times better than the first time. I could almost walk a few
tottering steps and I didn't faint.
Then the nurse came in, crapped us both out and got me back into bed. She gave
me a blanket bath and I was surprised that I didn't respond as appropriate.
That nurse was pretty. Pain in the elbow was ignored as I put a hand down to
the part that wasn't working as it should. Shit! My balls were gone. My
scrotum was just an empty bag.
My life is over, I thought. I might as well have died. I was in black despair.
The old man must have known but he hadn't said anything. When the nurse left
he came back in and I asked him.
"Yeah. Apparently they swelled up while you were in your coma. Nothing the
medics could do. Then the blood supply must have failed and they just
shrivelled up. Sorry son."
He saw how upset I was. "Look, it ain't the end of the world. They can give
you something to make up for it. Stick on patches. You can be perfectly all
right 'cept you won't be able to have any kids. I guess that don't matter too
much."
Later that day my old man told the doctor that I was ready to go home. The
doctor disagreed but dad persuaded him with the simple argument that he'd run
out of money. The doctor's suspicion that dad was bluffing must have been
allayed when dad pushed my wheelchair into the street instead of heading for
the hospital parking lot. He proposed to wheel me the three miles home.
He made a slight detour. "This is where I found you son. You were in the road.
I was on my way back from a Veterans Club meeting. Thought you were dead."
Nothing came back to me. "Did they catch the man who was driving?"
"Wasn't an auto accident, son. You got beat up." He paused then added "Nobody
deserves what you got just for bein'... what you are." There was a cold anger
in his voice. I didn't know whether it was against me or whoever beat me up.
"Look there's old Stetler with his queer kid. Give us a kiss, Derek." That was
some of the local low life hanging around outside the hotel I'd intended to
stay at. Eddy Faber and his two sidekicks had been the big jocks at high
school in my time. I hadn't liked 'em much then and-- Now I remembered! The
sudden assault: lying on the ground getting kicked. A kick to the head, a
massive blow to my balls...
Dad was staring at them and there was murder in his eyes.
"Get going old timer. You don't wanna mess with us," one of them yelled across
the street.
"Yeah. Fuck off with your faggot or we'll fuck you up too."
"Dad," I cautioned, frightened he'd fall for their provocation.
He turned and continued pushing the wheelchair.
"Chicken fag and father," came the jeer.
To walk away like that was costing dad dearly.
"It was them, wasn't it?" Dad said quietly to me."
"Yeah." It was. Eddy and ... who were the other two? Billy Barnet and Dave
Wurzle. We'd all been at school together.
"Gay bashing I suppose?" Dad said.
I made no reply.
"They overdid it. Those bastards damned near killed you."
I wondered what would have been the right amount of beating up. Right then I
was short on Christian charity. The wounds were healing but my balls weren't
going to grow back.
We got home, or rather to dad's place. I phoned my home and arose from the
dead all over again. Three people joyful at my resurrection made me feel a lot
better. I went to bed early and slept right through. Felt funny waking up in
my old room. It took me a while to remember where I was and all that had
happened since the last time.
I had no trouble with dad's bacon and eggs. He asked me if I felt up to a
short walk to help me get my strength back. I'd practically forgotten that I
was still convalescing. To be up and about and non-institutionalized had
caused me to feel normal. But I was weak. A walk would be a good idea.
Dad's house was on the very edge of town. Turn right at the end of the drive
and you were in farmland. We strolled along, very leisurely. I found I was
doing okay, better than I'd expected. We went off the blacktop on to a dirt
road. There was an artificial irrigation lake along that road where we used to
swim as kids.
The lake was smaller than I'd remembered but it was a pleasant place with
rocks and trees around the water. We sat down for a while. I needed to rest my
legs for the walk back.
The sound of the truck didn't register with me until it stopped by the lake.
"Company," dad remarked on seeing three men get out of the truck and walk
towards us.
"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" Eddy Faber said. "If it ain't the
queer and his old man."
"I thought there was a funny smell in the air," Dave Wurzle observed.
"Yep, that's the smell of the asshole lover." Billy Barnet told his friends.
"Shit comes out and Derek Stetler goes in. Ain't that sick?"
Eddy was standing quite close to me. "Fuck off pervert. This is our place."
Discretion being the better part of valor I made to get up. I just wanted out
of there with no further trouble.
Dad thought otherwise. "Stay put Derek. This chickenshit can't hurt us."
I stayed put and stared at the lake. I was concentrating like hell on not
shaking. I didn't want them to see how scared I was.
Maybe Eddy sensed my fear. It emboldened him. He bent down and whispered in my
ear "Faggot, I told you to fuck off. Do you want some more of what we gave you
last time?"
"And what did you give him last time?" Dad said.
"What he deserved. Six weeks in hospital for being queer," Billy Barnet
bragged.
"Huh! The three of you together couldn't put anyone in hospital. Who else was
helping you?" I wondered why dad was deliberately winding them up.
"No one else." Billy sounded indignant.
"You mean you did it all by yourselves?" Dad was acting impressed by this
feat. "Just the three of you? You, Eddy and Dave Wurzle?"
"Yeah so fuck off right now or we'll send the faggot back again." Dave Wurzle
must have felt that it was time he contributed.
"See Derek," dad said. "I told you there was nothing to fear."
I looked at him. What did he mean there was nothing to fear? I was scared
stiff.
"If these lying assholes were going to do something they'd have done it by
now. They're just talk." Dad looked up at Eddy. "Piss off scumbag. You're
polluting the countryside."
I hadn't noticed it before. Eddy had a rubber mallet in his belt. He took it
out. He held the mallet in his right hand and tapped the palm of his left hand
with it as he looked at dad. "You had your chance old man. Now it's your turn
to learn some manners, like your faggot kid. Get 'em."
Eddy swung the mallet at dad. I didn't see what happened. Dave Wurzle went for
me and I was concentrating on damage limitation.
I hunched myself to guard against the blows he was aiming at me. Suddenly he
stopped. There was a splash. Dad had thrown him into the lake.
Eddy Faber and Billy Barnet were face down in the grass, not moving.
"You okay Son?" There was a vitality about dad. He'd enjoyed the action.
He could see I was okay. He ambled down to the lake as Dave was crawling out.
He frog-marched him to where Eddy and Billy were on the ground.
Dad said something to Dave. Whatever he said Dave went pale and his eyes
widened. Dad had Dave in an arm lock and he gave the arm an upward jerk. Dave
yelped and nodded to show he'd understood.
When dad let him go Dave rolled Eddy on to his back and took down Eddy's
pants. He got 'em right off and shorts too.
Eddy was starting to wake up. "What the fuck--"
Dad pushed him down with the rubber end of the mallet on his nose. It wasn't
hard but Eddy stayed down.
Dave fetched a stone, a big smooth pebble, and put it under Eddy's balls. They
sat on the stone like it was a sacrificial altar.
"Hold his prick out of the way Derek. Else he'll lose that too."
I did so. To Eddy's mortifying embarrassment he began to erect.
"So who's the faggot now,' dad observed, handing the mallet to David Wurzle.
David held the mallet poised, trying to bring himself to strike. Only then did
Eddy realize what was about to happen.
"Jesus Christ! No!"
The scream unfroze David. He brought the mallet down on Eddy's balls. There
was a dull bonk sound as the rubber hit the stone. Eddy passed out.
Billy Barnet had been staring wide-eyed at this.
"Now it's your turn Billy," Dad spoke in a kindly gentle voice. "Get your
pants off."
Billy was paralyzed with fear.
Dad nodded to Dave who started to unbuckle Billy's belt.
"No, please. I promise--"
"O heck! He's shat himself," dad said. "You really are a piece of shit, aren't
you Billy. You'll never be a leader of men like Eddy. You don't have the balls
for it. Not that Eddy does any more."
Dad sent David to clean up Billy's pants as best as he could in the lake. Then
David had to clean Billy's ass with Billy's shirt.
Satisfied with the hygiene arrangements, dad got Dave to set up Billy's balls
on the altar stone. Billy passed out before the procedure.
We stood back, giving him time to recover. When he came to, Billy, buck naked,
made a bolt for it. He didn't have a chance. Dad tripped him up. Billy fell
and banged his face against a rock. There was a mess of blood but nothing
serious.
"See what you done to yourself, Billy Barnet? That's what comes of not doing
what you're told. You spoilt your good looks and the girls won't like you any
more. But that ain't gonna matter is it?" Dad had been speaking in a kindly
reasonable voice. Then he barked "Get your balls on the stone."
Billy, in a total funk, obeyed. He even held his prick out of the way himself.
Dave began his backswing of the mallet.
"Naa-" Again there was that bonk sound as Billy's balls were terminated. Billy
too passed out.
I was trying to catch up with turbulent emotions. Predominant amongst them was
the sense that justice had been done. The rubber mallet was healing balm to my
psyche as it smashed through Faber's and Barnet's balls. Having seen that act
of rough justice with my own eyes I knew that I'd never suffer psychological
damage from what they had done to me. I felt no pity at all. The bastards had
got exactly what they deserved. It occurred to me that the world would be a
better place without them in it.
"Get 'em in the pick-up and take 'em to hospital," dad told David. David just
knelt there vomiting, mallet still in his hand.
"Go," dad yelled, applying a forceful boot to David's rump.
"That's called motivational assistance with the foot," dad told me.
David was moving.
Neither of us made any effort to help Dave as he struggled to get his two
buddies into the pick up. We watched them drive away.
"So what about Dave Wurzle? You left him intact."
"Dad grinned. "They'll do him themselves. With a bit of luck they'll kill him
and that'll be all three of 'em done with."
The police sergeant who came around later knew dad. From the way he talked he
too was a member of the Veterans' Club. They chatted a while over a beer
before he got down to business. "So what happened up at Oswald's lake this
morning, John?"
"Damned trash! I'd taken my boy up there, just out of hospital y' know.
Thought an easy walk 'ld be good for him. We got to the lake. Derek was tired
so we sat down for a rest."
"Yeah?" The Sergeant was listening carefully to dad's words.
"Three men arrived in a pick-up. Started making trouble. Threatened to beat us
up if we didn't leave."
"So what did you do?"
"We left of course," dad said. "What else could we do? They looked like they
meant it. There were biggish guys. Derek's unfit. He's hardly able to walk.
Those guys were what ? Late twenties, thirty maybe."
"Were they armed?"
"No guns. They had a hammer they threatened me with."
"So you walked away. Did they come after you?"
"No. They jeered at us as we left. Made some remarks about Derek."
The sergeant nodded. He was sympathetic to dad at having an aberrant son.
"Funny though. Just as we got back to the house, say 20 minutes later, that
pick-up came past going toward town. Going like hell. You'd have got 'em for
speeding if anyone had been around."
The sergeant nodded. "It figures. I gotta ask you this. Did you in any way
provoke or assault them?"
"Nope. They told us to fuck off and that's what we did."
"Do you know who they were?"
"No. I've seen 'em around but I don't know 'em."
"Okay John. Thanks for your time." The sergeant paused then added. "You're 60
next birthday?"
"Yeah. Time flies."
"Very sensible of you to walk away. You could have been badly hurt."
There was a tacit understanding between dad and the sergeant.
The sergeant finally looked at me and made an effort to be polite for dad's
sake. "Go well, Derek."
"Last we'll hear of that," dad said with satisfaction after the Sergeant had
gone.
Next day dad drove me home. It was a three-hour trip by car and it was at his
insistence. I was the only family he had and he was lonely. Now that we'd met
up I guess he wanted to play father again.
We were less than fifteen minutes from my place when I asked him. "Dad, how
did you come to figure out I was gay?"
"Well, I was always worried about you, even as a kid. All that reading and
stuff."
"Yes?"
"When you got older I saw you going around with that Lester Mathews guy. He
made no bones about being gay. The last straw was that night I saw you with
Lester and you were wearing a dress. That was just too much."
Dad paused, bracing himself for the difficult bit.
"Look Derek. I was stupid. I over reacted. I apologize and I'm sorry. I'd like
for us to... well, keep in touch. Father and son, you know.
"Yeah, sure dad. I'd like that too. But dad, you ought to know --. Here's the
house. Pull into the drive and hoot."
There was no need to hoot. My two little kids came pouring out and wrapped
themselves round me. My wife Margaret, an attractive, tallish woman was close
behind them. She was crying as she embraced me. "We thought you were dead."
None of us noticed dad, staring bemused at the scene.
Later I explained. "Margaret and I were childhood sweethearts, dad. Lester was
around 'cos he's her brother. Must have been Margaret wearing a dress you saw
with Lester. It sure as hell wasn't me."
End
* * * |
Boys am See Teil 2 Fortsetzung | TESTICLES, MINOR | Ich habe die Geschichte weitergeschrieben, es gab ja noch ein paar Eier zu entfernen.Viel Spass dabei | Boys am See 2
Fortsetzung by Kevin
Alle schauten wir geschockt auf Sven, keiner von uns hatte bisher einen
Eunuchen gesehen. Sven rannen die Tränen übers Gesicht und das Blut die Beine
hinunter. Es war irgendwie erschreckend und doch auch irgendwie anregend.
Jeder der anderen 3 hatte schon wieder einen Ständer bekommen obwohl schon
alle mindestens 2x abgespritzt hatte.
Klaus sagte „was sollen wir machen, wir können Sven doch nicht verbluten
lassen, hat einer sein Handy dabei?“ Doch was sollte man sagen, man hat gerade
seinen Freund kastriert?? Hatte sich sowieso erübrigt, keiner hatte Telefon.
Die Blutung hatte mittlerweile auch schon nachgelassen.
Dino hob den abgetrennten Sack von Sven aus dem Gras auf und holte die Eier
aus dem Beutel und betrachtete sie interessiert. „Hättet ihr gedacht dass die
Dinger so klein sind“ fragte er Benni und Klaus und alle 3 lachten, nur Sven
nicht, ihm waren sie so klein lieber wie gar keine zu haben.
„ Ich finde es toll wie Sven aussieht“ sagte Benni......ob er ihn nur trösten
wollte?? Dino und Klaus lachten. „Dann lass sie dir doch auch abzwicken“ sagte
Dino, der anscheinend Gefallen am Kastrieren gefunden hatte. „Vielleicht lass
ich das sogar“ sagte Benni. Die anderen beiden dachten, jetzt fängt er
komplett zu spinnen an, doch als er zum Kastrationsast geht und seine Eier mit
dem Draht festbinden anfängt sahen die anderen nur geschockt zu.
„Ich kann das nicht alleine, und ausserdem hab ich Angst“ sagte Benni, „wer
will mir helfen, ich will auch so aussehen.“
Sven konnte es nicht glauben, sein Freund will kastriert werden. „Ihr müsst
mich dabei aber auch ficken, sonst tut es mir zu sehr weh“. Dino konnte sein
Glück nicht glauben, noch ein Sack war zu entfernen. Sven sitzt nur da und
schaut auf seinen Schwanz und will nichts tun und Klaus weigert sich den
Knebel am Draht auch nur anzufassen. „Ficken tu ich, aber kastrieren tu ich
nicht“ sagte er nur.
Benni lag auf dem Ast und wartete dass einer nun endlich anfangen würde.
„Macht schon sonst überleg ich’s mir noch anders. Ich will nur auch noch mal
spritzten bevor es nie mehr geht.“
„OK“ sagte Dino, „wenn du willst, dann mache ich’s halt, ich hab ja jetzt
schon Übung“.
Dino setzte seinen Schwanz am Poloch an und rammte ihn rein. Benni stöhnte vor
Geilheit auf, fing aber nicht zu jammern an. Man sah dass er es richtig genoss
wie der Boyschwanz sein Loch bearbeitete. „Und du willst wirklich“ fragte Dino
noch mal. „Ja, mach endlich, dreh zu“ stöhnte Benni in seiner Geilheit.
Dino begann unter den Stössen seines Schwanzes den Knebel zuzudrehen. „Geil,
weiter, fester, los mach, ja“ kam aus Benni herausgeschossen. Da spritzte Dino
in seinen Boyarsch ab und er hörte auch auf den Knebel zu drehen. Der Sack von
Benni hatte mittlerweile eine lila Färbung angenommen und tat sicherlich
höllisch weh, doch Benni stöhnte nur vor Geilheit als ihm das Sperma von Dino
die Beine hinunterläuft. „Los Klaus, jetzt du, fick mich!“
Klaus sichtlich angewiedert vom Gedanken seinen Freund zu ficken und zuzusehen
wie er kastriert wird dabei setzte sein Teil an und rammte es rein. Dabei
wurde er aber wieder so geil dass es ihm nur noch ums ficken geht und er die
ganze Welt um sich vergisst. Dino drehte inzwischen weiter am Knebel. Der Sack
wurde heftig abgeschnürt und die Haut begann an einigen Stellen bereits zu
bluten.
„Jetzt bist du gleich kastriert“ sagte Dino, und Benni nur darauf „mach
endlich red nicht nur“. So drehte Dino bis zur Vollendung weiter und Klaus
fickte was er ficken konnte. Auf einmal war auch Benni frei und sein Sack lag
ebenfalls im Gras. Eines seiner Eier ist herausgefallen aus dem Beutel und lag
offen im Gras.
„Scheisse tut das weh“ sagte Benni, der sich die blutende Wunde im Schritt
hält. Aber jetzt ist es endlich geschafft. 4 Jungs gehen zum
Baden.......Baden?? bisher nicht allzu viel, und 2 kommen kastriert nach
Hause.
„Was sagst du zu deinen Alten?“ fragte Benni Sven. „Weiss noch nicht, kann ja
schlecht sagen er ist von selber abgefallen oder, das glaubt mir doch keiner“.
„Stimmt muss ich dir rechtgeben, bei dir wars ja ein Unfall, ich habs ja
freiwillig gemacht“ sagte Benni, „das glaubt mir eh keiner, aber ich finds
geil“.
Klaus, der etwas abseits der Szene sitzt, fängt schon wieder an seinen Schwanz
zu wixen. „Ich finds auch geil wie ihr ausseht aber ich hab Angst vor den
Schmerzen“ sagte er. Darauf Benni „ja weh tuts schon aber es ist es wert“.
Auch Dino betrachtet seinen Sack und meint, ohne würde der Schwanz sicher viel
besser zur Geltung kommen.
Sven und Benni dachten sie hören nicht ganz richtig, das kann doch nicht sein.
Sie beide sitzen blutend ohne Sack da und die anderen beiden Jungs denken
darüber nach auch ihre Eier zu verlieren. „Komm Klaus wir machen es auch“
sagte Dino, „dann sieht jeder wenn wir Baden gehen, dass wir zusammengehören“.
Klaus nickte nur stumm, man sah ihm an dass er eine riesen Angst hat seine
Eier zu verlieren aber er will auch nicht als Feigling vor den anderen
dastehen.
„OK, wir machen es, aber gemeinsam“ sagte er. „Wie soll das gehen?“ fragte
Dino.
„Benni und Sven sollen es uns machen, nicht dass noch einer kneift, wenn dann
sind wir alle 4 kastriert, ich will nur noch einmal abspritzen“.
Dino, auch sichtlich erregt geht zu Klaus und beginnt seinen Boyschwanz zu
blasen. Die beiden legen sich in die 69 Stellung und auch Klaus beginnt Dino
abzublasen. Beide werden richtig geil dabei und spritzen fast gleichzeitig ab.
„So“ sagt Klaus „jetzt lass uns die Eier verlieren“. Dino schaut nur ein wenig
verdutzt aber als Feigling will er sich auch nicht abstempeln lassen.
Klaus stellt sich breitbeinig hin und sagt zu Dino er soll sich vor ihn
stellen, damit die Schwänze am Bauch abgestützt werden und nur die Eier frei
unten hängen.
„Los Benni hol den Draht und bind uns die Säcke zusammen“ sagte Klaus. Jetzt
war auch Dino klar wie es funktionieren sollte. Er wollte schon einen
Rückzieher machen doch Benni war mit dem Draht zu schnell und hatte die beiden
Jungs an ihren Säcken fixiert. Dino fängt an ein bisschen zu jammern, er will
seine Teile doch nicht verlieren. Klaus sagte nur zu Benni er solle endlich
anfangen damit es vorbei geht. Dino fängt noch schlimmer an zu jammern und zu
heulen. „Ich will nicht, ihr Schweine ich will meine Eier behalten.“ Die Jungs
lassen sich nicht mehr abbringen von ihrem Vorhaben. Sven nimmt das T-Shirt
von Dino und bindet ihm die Hände auf den Rücken damit er endlich aufhört zu
zappeln und stopft ihm seine Badehose in den Mund damit er endlich ruhig ist.
Durch das Gezappel haben sich die Säcke schon selbst ziemlich fest abgebunden
und bekamen die schöne lila Farbe. Auch Klaus rannen nun ein paar
Schmerztränen die Backen herunter, doch er sagte gar nichts und Benni begann
sein angefangenes Werk zu vollenden. Er steckte den Knebel durch den Draht und
beginnt langsam und genüsslich die Schlaufe zu verengen. Dino jammert in seine
Hose rein aber wegkommen tut er nun nicht mehr und darüber ist er sich auch im
klaren.
Der Draht beginnt nun die Eier der Jungs heftig abzuschnüren. Die Schmerzen
müssen höllisch sein, doch Benni der ja die Prozedur schon hinter sich hatte
geht völlig cool und gelassen zu werke und dreht immer weiter.
Auf einmal dringt der Draht in den Sack von Klaus ein und Blut strömt heraus.
Jetzt ist auch Klaus ein bisschen am jammern und stöhnen.
Benni machte noch ein paar Bewegungen mit dem Knebel und der Draht dringt nun
auch in den Sack von Dino ein. Sven hatte in der Zwischenzeit sein
Taschenmesser herausgekramt, klappte die Klinge heraus und setzte sie an die
abgebundenen Säcke der 2 Jungs an. Ein kräftiger Schnitt und die Hoden der
beiden liegen auf der Wiese. Jetzt sind sie wieder voneinander gelöst und
frei.
Als auch bei den beiden die Blutung nachgelassen hat liegen die 4 Jungeunuchen
nebeneinander und geniessen die Abendsonne auf ihren nackten Körpern. „Es war
ein megageiler Badetag“ sagte Sven, nun nicht mehr alleine Sacklos.
Die anderen können ihm nur beipflichten. „Was machen wir nun beim nächsten
Mal“ fragte Benni „Säcke abschneiden geht ja nun nicht mehr, aber ficken
können wir noch alle. Cool wär sicher auch wenn wir unsere Ruten nächstes Mal
beschneiden würden. Ich finde es sieht super toll aus wenn die Eichel immer
freiliegt“.
„Ja stimmt“ sagt Sven „noch ist ja keiner cut von uns, und das tut sicher
nicht so weh wie die Eier verlieren“
Als die Abendsonne den Horizont erreichte lagen die Jungs immer noch
nebeneinander und planten ihren nächsten Badetag. Sicherlich gehen sie nur
noch nackt baden, sie sind ja schließlich stolz auf ihre Schwänze ohne Sack.
* * * |
Shacha | GAY, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, MINOR | Ever since Shacha could remember, he wanted to be rid of his cock. Now, he\'d met someone on the Internet that would cut it off -- for free. He wanted to keep his balls, but he wanted to be rid of his cock. It was his cock he hated, not his balls.Also as a picture story at http://www.slammerstories.net/ | **Shacha**
** Shacha had wanted it for as long as he could remember. Even when he was a
kid -- really a kid, maybe five or six, not fourteen like he was now -- he had
wanted it. Then he'd wanted to be rid of all his male parts, his cock and his
balls, but since puberty -- since his balls had begun changing him from a boy
to a man, since the hormones from his balls had started to flow -- that had
changed. Now, he just wanted his cock cut off. He liked the feeling the
hormones from his balls provided him. He liked being turned on.**
**And, he was a typical boy in that respect, too. He jacked off all the time,
at least two or three times a day.**
**_Why?_ you might ask, _would a boy -- a fourteen year-old boy that liked
jacking off, that liked being aroused -- want to have his cock cut off._ Even
Shacha couldn't have answered that question. He didn't know why. He couldn't
have put it into words, but he wanted it. He was obsessed with the idea of
having his cock cut off. He was afraid he might regret it afterward, but that
didn't matter. It was something he had to have done. Only then could he stop
thinking about having it done, about how it would feel to have balls, but no
cock, to want to jack off, but not be able to.**
**Would he be able to cum after his cock was cut off? If he let some other boy
fuck him once his cock was cut off, would he cum, squirting out the pee hole
the doc was going to make him between his legs, somewhere below his balls?**
**Sometimes Shacha would push his cock to one side, hiding it with his hand,
so he'd have some idea what he would look like with just his balls, but no
cock. It wasn't the same, of course -- he knew it'd be different when his cock
was actually gone -- but it gave him some idea what he'd look like -- just his
ball sack with its two occupants, hanging from a patch of pubic hair -- two
balls, without a cock to hide behind. God -- the thought of it turned him
on.**
**Now, it was going to happen. In an hour -- two at the most -- Shacha would
no longer have a cock.**
**He'd often thought about cutting it off himself -- taking a knife and
slicing it off -- but he'd never been able to go through with it. He'd cut his
cock -- just a little -- more than once, but he'd never been able to do it any
real damage. He didn't know what had stopped him. Maybe it was the fear that
he might bleed to death, and Shacha didn't have a death wish. He didn't even
like to hurt himself -- nothing other that his cock, that is.**
**Shacha liked hurting his cock. He could find all kinds of ways to hurt it,
rubber bands around it, until it grew numb -- scalding water run over his cock
until it was red -- sore to the touch for days afterward. But none of that was
enough. Nothing he'd ever done had killed his cock, so a doctor would have to
cut it off.**
**Besides, he didn't want to have a dead cock cut off in some operating room
where they'd put him to sleep first. He didn't want to wake up to find his
cock gone. He wanted to watch while the doc cut it off. And he wanted to feel
it. He wanted his cock to feel it. He wanted it to hurt. It wouldn't be the
same to have his cock cut off, if he didn't feel it -- if his cock didn't feel
it.**
**Oh, don't get me wrong. Shacha knew his cock wasn't a separate entity --
that it was a part of him. He knew that in his head -- in the rational part of
his brain that thought -- but not on the emotional level. There, his cock was
alive, a creature separate from him, a parasite that fed off his blood, a
creature that had a mind of its own. Didn't it get hard, whether he willed it
or not?. Shacha -- the real Shacha -- had no cock. He'd been born without one.
This cock he had now was just some parasite that had attached itself to his
groin.**
**Anyway, Shacha had told himself that so many times he had come to believe
it.**
**"Are you ready?" Doc asks me. I nod. "And you don't want any anesthetic?" I
shake my head. "It's going to hurt. It's going to hurt a lot."**
**"I know," I finally say, my voice little more than a croak. "I want to feel
it. I want to feel you cut it off."**
**"I'll have to strap you down, then. You won't be able to hold still, and I
can't have you moving. There's a lot of blood vessels I have to cauterize.
Can't have you bleeding to death, can we?"**
**I shake my head again. Although I want to speak, talking like it was nothing
to me to have my cock cut off -- something that concerned me not in the least
-- I can't. It feels like something is stuck in my throat -- fear, I guess. I
am afraid -- afraid of the pain -- afraid that I will regret it afterward.**
**But, in spite of my fear, I know I'm going through with it. I've wanted it
too long to turn back now. Being cock-less is my destiny. Having my cock cut
off might not make me happy, but -- if I keep it -- I'll never know, will I?
I'll always wonder. I'll go though the rest of my life, thinking about nothing
but having it cut off. At least, once Doc is though, I'll no longer wonder.**
**You might wonder why Doc is going to cut me, a fourteen year old boy. I can
hear you say, _No doctor's going to cut off a fourteen year-old boy's cock._
Well, he is a doc -- a veterinarian actually -- and he is going to cut off my
cock, and I'm not going to have to pay him anything. I guess -- as much as
I've always wanted to have my cock cut off -- he's always wanted to cut off a
boy's cock. Fate somehow -- fate and the Internet, lol, -- brought us
together.**
**On a penectomy site on the Internet -- a site where guys talked about their
fantasies of having their cocks cut off -- I constantly said I intended to
have mine cut off. When Doc found out I was only fourteen, he said he'd do it.
The only thing he wants for it is my cock. He wants to keep it as a souvenir.
Hell, he can have it. After it's cut off, I never want to see it again.**
**You notice I never use Doc's name. I don't know it. All I know to call him
is Doc. But I guess that's best. I imagine he could spend some serious jail
time for cutting off the cock of a fourteen year-old boy, even if the boy
wanted it.**
**Funny thing is, Doc and I live in the same town. After we made the
arrangements, he picked me up at the park in a van he rented or borrowed. He
blindfolded me and brought me to his office. Nothing on the walls has his name
on it. I don't know what his name is, and I don't know where we are. We could
be anywhere in the city, and it's a big city.**
**I chuckle.**
**"What's funny?" he asks.**
**"Nothing really," I answer. "I was just thinking about all the dogs that
must have lost their balls on this table. Now, I'm going to lose my cock on
it."**
**"I could cut off your balls, too," he says. "Wouldn't you rather have it all
gone? You'll look weird with balls, but no cock, but you'll really be hot,
smooth."**
**"No," I said, "I want to keep my balls. You promise you won't cut off my
balls?"**
**"I promise, if that's what you want, but I still think you'd look better
without them."**
**"Tell you what," I say, "If I decide later to have them cut off, you can do
it."**
**Doc starts setting out his instruments; scalpel, clamps, sutures. Everything
he needs for the operation.**
**"I'm going to have to tie you down, now," he says. "Once I start cutting,
you're going to beg me to stop, but I won't. Once I start, I'm cutting it all
off. Are you certain you don't want an anesthetic? I could just give you some
shots that would deaden your cock. You'd still be awake -- able to watch. It
just wouldn't hurt."**
**"No," I say, "I want it to hurt."**
**"OK. It's your cock."**
**"Not for long," I say, making a small attempt at humor. "Soon, it'll be
yours." He smiles and nods.**
**I lay back and he begins strapping me down. I wonder if he'd stop now, if I
asked him to. I'm almost tempted to ask, but I don't. I bite my lip and let
him tie me down.**
**It was done. Doc had turned away, carrying my cock in a bowl. It no longer
belonged to me. It was no longer attached to me. It would never get hard
again. My cum would never shoot through it again. I would never be able to
jack off again. If I someday had another orgasm, my cock would play no part in
it. I'd have to find another way to have a climax.**
**It had hurt. God damn, it had hurt. And Doc was right. I had begged him to
stop. "I've changed my mind," I had screamed. "Don't cut it off."**
**But doc paid no attention to my screams. He kept cutting. He cut -- then
paused to cauterize a leaking blood vessel -- then cut some more. It didn't
take him long -- I guess -- although -- at the time -- it seemed to take
forever. He slid my cock off the catheter he had in it, then placed it in a
bowl.**
**I don't know which hurt the most, the cutting or the cauterizing. Both hurt
-- both really hurt. But, it's done. My cock is done for. I no longer have one
-- just two balls hanging from my crotch.**
**Doc isn't finished. He's going to stitch the skin together over where my
cock was, then he's going to make me a pee hole between my legs, below my
balls, between them and my asshole. I'll have to pee sitting down like a girl.
He's going to give me a shot first, so I don't feel it. That's OK. I just
wanted to feel him cut off my cock, and that was enough pain for a lifetime. I
don't want to feel him make me a pee hole.**
**It was his idea to make me one between my legs. I just thought I'd have one
where my cock was, but he said, "If I do that, you'll pee all over your balls
every time you pee, and it'll be hard to direct your piss into the toilet.
This way, your piss will shoot down into the toilet. You might have to hold up
your balls to keep from pissing on them, but that'll be easy for you to do."**
**I'll be glad to have the shot. My crotch hurts like hell.**
**There's some blood running down my ass now -- I can feel it -- but it's not
too much. He was able to stop most of the bleeding. "You'll be OK," he told
me. "Most of it's just seepage. It'll stop."**
**God! Are my parents going to freak when I come home without a cock. I guess
they'll never have grandchildren now. I'm their only kid.**
**But, I would never have had kids anyway. I don't like girls much, and the
last thing I want is kids.**
**Maybe they won't even know. Neither my mom or dad have seen me naked in
years. If I don't have any complications from this cutting, they might not
ever find out. I'll just have to hope I don't get sick and have to go to a
doctor -- a real doctor, not a vet like Doc.**
**No tight pants around my parents, though, and no trips to the bathroom in my
underwear. They might notice I no longer have much of a bulge. My cock was no
monster, a little less than six inches when hard, but it definitely added to
the bulge in pants. I won't have much now.**
**No more jacking off. What's that going to be like. Fuck, hurting as I am, it
turns me on to think about it. Imagine -- wanting to jack off -- needing to
jack off -- but having no cock to jack off with. I wonder if I'll be able to
cum rubbing my bare crotch? I read on the Internet that some people could cum
without rubbing their cocks. I guess I'll find out.**
**And if I can, the cum will come out between my legs, out my pee hole. Won't
that be weird? I wonder if it'll shoot out? Do you need a cock for that? Will
it just kind of ooze or dribble out?**
**The thought of cumming without a cock excites me. If I didn't hurt so much,
I'd try it now. But, it'll probably be a while before I'll feel like trying. I
imagine I'm going to be sore for some time yet.**
**I'm not going home tonight. I told my parents I was going camping with
Michael, and that we'd be gone for a week. Michael knew I was getting my cock
cut off. He thinks I'm crazy, but I think it turns him on, too.**
**Maybe I'll let Michael fuck me after I'm healed. Maybe I can cum with his
cock up my ass. He has a big one, at least seven inches long, and I've heard
some guys can cum by having a guy's cock stimulate their prostate.**
**It's not like we're queer for each other. We've jacked off together --
sometimes we do each other -- but we've never sucked each other off, or
anything like that.**
**I think he'd fuck me, though. He got hard every time I talked about having
my cock cut off -- we both got hard actually -- and we'd usually end up
jacking each other off.**
**Yeah, he'll fuck me, if I ask him to. I'm sure of it. And I'll ask him. I
know I will; if for no other reason than to satisfy my curiosity.**
**I can't believe it's over and done with: my cock is gone -- cut off -- lying
in a bowl, shrunken, pitiful, little cock.**
**Did I do the right thing? I don't know yet. It's too late to worry about it,
I guess. It's done. I don't guess Doc would sew it back on, if I asked him to.
He probably couldn't, anyway. He's just a vet, after all. I imagine it would
take real skill to sew a cock back on, so it would work at least. Besides, he
did all that cauterizing. That's sealed most of the blood vessels and burned
through the nerves.**
**Even if I wanted my cock back, I certain he couldn't do it.**
**Besides, I don't want it back -- not yet, anyway. I might want it back
tomorrow or the next day -- or next week or next year -- but it's gone for
good.**
**Doc turns around. He has a hypodermic in his hand. He's going to give me a
shot to deaden my crotch, then make me a pee hole.**
**Picture this: it's my first day of school, between second and third periods.
I have to piss. I walk into the boy's bathroom and walk up to a urinal, as
I've done probably hundreds of times before. I drop my pants and push down my
drawers. Fuck! I can't pee at a urinal anymore. I don't have a cock.**
**I'd gone to the urinal out of habit, forgetting for a moment that I couldn't
use it. Pulling up my pants, I glanced at the guys next to me. Had either of
them seen? I'd pulled my pants down past where my cock used to be. All I have
there now is a pink scar half hidden by my pubic hair.**
**The guy on my right is glancing in my direction. I don't know whether he
noticed or not. I'm not about to ask. Would he really believe his own eyes
anyway? He was in my gym class last year. He probably saw me naked every day.
I had a cock then.**
**I pull up my pants and go into a stall, where I can sit down to pee. I'm
glad the stalls have doors on them.**
**It's been six weeks since Doc cut off my dick. I'm pretty well healed. He
gave me some antibiotics, so I didn't get an infection. There's a puckered,
pink, scar where my cock was, but -- given time -- I don't think I'll have
much of a scar, and my pubic hair will cover most of it.**
**My parents don't know I no longer have a cock. I always wear baggy pants
when I'm not in my room, and like I said, they haven't seen me naked for
years. I think it's funny. Their son doesn't have a cock, and they don't even
know it.**
**Am I glad I had my cock cut off? Most of the time, I guess. I know if I
still had it, I'd still want it cut off. That doesn't mean that there's not
times I'd like to have it back. I haven't been able to cum, since it was cut
off. I've had a couple of wet dreams, waking up to cum gushing out my pee
hole, running down my crack. I can't get myself off, though, and -- fuck --
I'm horny all the time. Sometimes, I think I'll go crazy from it.**
**But -- in a way -- that's cool, too -- to want to jack off -- more than
anything -- but not to be able to. Weird, I know, but I guess I'd have to be a
little weird to want to have my cock cut off in the first place.**
**I wonder if Doc kept it, like he said he was? I wonder if my cock's floating
in some jar in his office -- or whether he took it home with him?**
**I think I'm going to let Michael fuck me. I'd like to see if that'll make me
cum. I haven't let him yet. He and his family were away on vacation during the
last weeks of summer, and I was too sore before. He's never even seen me
without a cock. I had bandages on when I stayed at his place after my
operation.**
**Doc was right. I have to hold my balls up when I piss to keep from pissing
on them. At least I don't have to shake the last drops out of my pecker any
longer. I just wipe my pee hole with some toilet paper, and I'm done.**
**Fuck! Gym class. What the fuck am I going to do about gym class? We have to
dress out in shorts, t-shirt, and gym shoes and wear fucking jock straps.
There's no fucking privacy in the dressing room. Even the toilets don't have
doors. And guys are always fucking horsing around, snapping a towel at your
balls, or something. Shit -- shit -- shit. I didn't think about fucking gym
class, when I let Doc cut off my cock.**
**I'll tell the coach I don't feel good today. Maybe he won't make me dress
out. That might work today, but it won't work every day. Fuck. They're going
to know. Everyone's going to fucking know. Maybe I can tell them I had cancer
or something and had to have it cut off. I'll still be a dickless wonder, but
maybe they won't think I'm crazy. Maybe if they think my parents already know,
they won't tell them.**
**Am I crazy because I wanted my cock cut off?**
**The coach said I'd have to go to the nurse first to get out of dressing for
P.E., and I don't have a fever, so it probably wouldn't have worked. I told
him I had a headache, but he said I had to dress anyway. I don't have to play,
but I have to dress.**
**By the time I return to the locker room, though, the other kids have already
changed. I have it to myself.**
**Turned, facing the wall, I have just taken off my pants and underwear.
"Hurry up, Atonally," I hear someone say. I recognize the voice, that of Bret
Spicer, one of my friends. Bret had been at my house one night when I was
chatting with Doc about his cutting off my cock.**
**"You'll never fucking do it," Bret had said.**
**"Yes, I will," I had answered.**
**"Bull shit. No fucking way"**
**"Just wait. You'll see." Well, this was my chance to show him. I turn
around, pulling up my shirt.**
**I don't think it registered at first. Possibly because Bret expected to see
a cock on me, it took him a moment to realize I no longer had one. After a
long minute, he said, "Fuck me! You did it! You had your cock cut off."**
**"Yep."**
**His mouth hung open. I noticed another reaction: he had a boner. It pushed
out the front of his shorts. A fucking boner. I'll never have another one.**
**Bret kneels down to have a closer look. "How do you pee?" he asks, when he
sees there's no opening where my cock used to be, nothing there but pink skin
and a scar.**
**"I have a pee hole between my legs." Propping my leg up on a bench, I hold
up my balls so he can see. Well, I've done it now. Bret Spicer has a big
mouth. He'll tell everyone not only that I don't have a cock, but that I
wanted it cut off.**
**"Why did you keep your balls?" he asks.**
**"I like how they make me feel."**
**"What do you mean? Why have balls, if you don't have a cock? It looks stupid
to have balls, but no cock."**
**"You need balls to get turned on."**
**"What are you going to do about it without a cock. You can't jack off."**
**I'm turned on; he is, too; he has a hell of a boner. Shit! At that moment, I
would like to have a cock. I want to jack off. Shit. I'd do it in the locker
room with Bret watching, if I had a cock. I don't remember ever being so
horny. But, too, I like the feeling, that intense desire to cum, but not being
able to. No doubt I'll have a wet dream tonight. I'm about to cream now. Then,
I have an idea.**
**"Do you want to fuck me?" He's turned on. Maybe he'll do it. We have thirty
or forty minutes before class is over and everyone comes in from the gym.**
**"You want me to fuck you?"**
**"Yeah," I say. "I'm turned on and I can't cum by myself. Maybe I can, if you
fuck me. Don't you want to? You have a hell of a boner. I know you're turned
on." Reaching over, I rub his crotch.**
**He bites his lower lip, then nods. "Where?"**
**"Right here. Everyone, including Coach, is out in the gym. We've got a half
hour at least." He doesn't stop me when I pull down his shorts. His cock is
sticking straight up, making little jerking motions. It's not as big as
Michael's, but it's bigger than mine was, probably six -- six and a half --
inches.**
**I lie down on my back on the floor, raising my legs as I've seen guys do in
porn flicks. He kneels down between my legs, nuzzles his cock against my hole,
then pushes.**
**It hurts, but only at first. I feel his cock press against my prostate. His
cock is hard, but so is my prostate -- hard as a fucking rock. He cums, and I
cum -- the best fucking orgasm of my life. Spunk shoots out of my pee hole all
over Bret's groin. It shoots and shoots. I don't think I'm ever going to stop
cumming.**
**We take a shower, then finish dressing for P.E. "Don't tell anyone about my
cock," I tell him, but I know he will. By tomorrow, everyone will know I don't
have one. That's all right. I don't care. I want them to know. I even want my
parents to know. Maybe, I'll tell them tonight.**
**You're probably curious about what's happened since I saw you last --
remember in the locker room where Bret fucked me? I told you then that
everyone would find out that I had no cock; and they did. I knew Bret couldn't
keep his mouth shut, so I told my parents that night when they came home from
work.**
**Boy, did they freak. I guess I can't blame them. I mean, what would you do,
if your kid came up to you and told you he had his cock cut off. That little
revelation cost me six months worth of visits with a shrink. Eventually, he
decided I wasn't crazy -- not about anything else, anyway. He never understood
why I wanted my cock cut off. I told him some people just didn't want their
cocks; some didn't want their balls; and some didn't want either; but I don't
think he ever really understood.**
**My parents didn't either; neither did my teachers or the other boys. Fuck,
the boys really think I'm weird. Most of them are in love with their cocks.
Several of them told me, "I'd kill myself, if I lost my cock."**
**And, how do I feel about not having a cock? Most of the time, I'm OK with
it. Sometimes, I wish I could have been like other boys and wanted my cock,
but that's just not who I am. I'm pretty much of an outcast now. Most of the
other boys won't have anything to do with me. Maybe they're afraid it's
catching, that they'll want to have their cocks cut off, if they hang around
me.**
**That's OK. I didn't have many friends before anyway; and I still have a
couple: Michael and Bret. They're my fuck buddies. Both of them like to fuck
me. No problem as far as I'm concerned. I love it. It's the only way I can
cum.**
**Michael's the best. He has the biggest cock.**
**Pretty soon, Michael will be my only fuck buddy. Bret wants both his cock
and balls cut off. (Maybe it is catching, lol.) He's coming over tonight. I've
been chatting with Doc, and he's agreed to cut off Bret's cock and balls. Doc
still has my cock in a jar, he says. I wonder if he'll put Bret's cock and
balls in the same jar, or whether they'll have a jar of their own? A jar of
their own, probably.**
**I know this is going to cost me a shit load of trouble. Fucking Bret won't
be able to keep his mouth shut. He'll tell everyone that I arranged it. It's a
good thing he doesn't know who Doc really is. He'd squeal on him for sure. I
shouldn't do it, but -- hell -- Bret's become as obsessed about being a eunuch
as I was about having my cock cut off. (I wonder if I'm a eunuch? I still have
my balls.)**
**I know I did the right thing. It's better to not have a cock than go through
life wishing you didn't have one. I'm glad I kept my balls, though. With them,
I'm the same person I was before. The same hormones are gushing through my
veins. I feel like a boy -- just a boy without a cock. I never wanted to be a
girl.**
**I think Bret wants to be one, though. That's why he wants both his cock and
balls cut off. He wants to be smooth like a girl. Michael fucks him, too; and
he cums. I tell him he might not be able to, once his balls are cut off, but
he still wants them cut off.**
**We'll be a pair, won't we: a boy without a cock and a boy with neither cock
or balls?**
**Fuck. I hope they won't put me in jail or juvie for arranging this. I really
shouldn't do it, but I want to watch. Both Bret and Doc have agreed to let me
watch. Doc's going to give Bret shots. Bret's not into pain. He doesn't want
to feel his cock and balls cut off. He wants to watch it, but he doesn't want
to feel it.**
**Oh! The doorbell. You'll have to excuse me for a minute. It must be Bret.
We're supposed to meet Doc online and make the final arrangements, then he'll
meet us somewhere tonight, take us to his office, and operate on Bret. In a
few hours, Bret will be a eunuch.**
**And, I get to watch -- cool.**
**Bret and I are in front of my computer. I'm online with Doc arranging the
meeting.**
**I type back to Doc. "McConnell park at 7:00 PM. We'll be there, waiting by
the swing set and slides.** **"**
**He types back, "Are you certain he wants to go through with it?"**
**I look at Bret. He's been watching the screen the whole time. I raise my
eyebrow. Bret nods. "You sure," I ask.**
**"Yes," he says.**
**I type, "Yes, he's sure."**
**"OK," Doc types, "7:00 PM."**
**It's set. Time to go. It'll take us about 30 minutes to walk to the park.**
**It's over. Bret's cock and balls are in a bowl on Doc's desk. Doc made Bret
a pee hole between his legs like mine. It took a long time -- two or three
hours -- but it's done.**
**"You did a good job, Doc," I say. "Have you done this much? Have you cut a
lot of boys?" I think he must have. He's too good at it to have just cut Bret
and me.**
**"You two are the only boys I've cut. I cut men. I'm what's known as a
cutter. I don't cut them for free, like I cut the two of you. I charge $2000
for either cock or balls, $3000 for both, so you boys are getting a good
deal."**
**Bret's pretty much out of it, even though the cutting didn't hurt him, since
Doc gave him some shots to deaden his dick and balls. I guess it was all the
blood, cutting, and cauterizing. I thought I was going to hurl myself, and I
wasn't being cut.**
**It's over, though. Bret's a cock-less, ball-less, eunuch. I think it's cool
that he is. Hell, he wanted it. Besides, it's cool to know there's another boy
like me, one without a cock. Of course, Bret took it one step further; he had
his balls cut off, too. Doc asked me if I wanted him to cut off mine, but I
said, _no_. I like myself just like I am. It was always my cock I hated, not
my balls.**
**Bret does look cool without either -- kind of like a girl without boobs. Doc
cut off his ball sack, too.**
**Shit. I'm almost tempted to let Doc cut off my balls. They get in the way;
and if I didn't have any, I wouldn't have to worry about getting hit in
them.**
**No -- I'll wait. If I want to have them cut off later, I can. I'll wait to
see how not having balls affects Bret. I like to cum. I like to squirt spunk
out my pee hole. I'm afraid I won't be able to without balls.**
**Doc's given Bret something to relax him. He wants him to sleep for a few
hours. Rather than sit around, I have a better idea. "Hey, Doc. Would you like
to fuck me?"**
**I've never been fucked by a man. I wonder if Doc has a bigger cock than
Michael. I hope he does.**
* * * |
A Teasing Penectomy (translated in German language) | PENECTOMY, NULLIFICATION | A Teasing Penectomy - This great story translated in German language! Enjoy it! | ` Schwanzlos und verspottet `
Original title: A Teasing Penectomy
Author: A Lonely
Es war nicht alles so geplant. Beginnen wir mit der übersüßen grausamen
dunkelhaarigen Hexe, nennen wir sie Ryn, (sie hat eine wunderbare Fotze, und
tolle dralle Brüste) und dem Dummkopf, der es überdrüssig ist den Träumen
seines pochenden Schwanz zu verfallen, und diesem Anhängsel hörig zu sein.
Sie fesselt ihn an einen Stuhl, die Szene ist strahlend hell beleuchtet. Sie
ist nackt, mit weißer zarter Alabasterhaut, ihre enge Scham ist von sahnig
weißer Farbe, und ihr rabenschwarzes langes Haar liegt über ihren Brüsten wie
ein dunkler Fluß. Ryn drückt mit ihren schönen Händen und den schwarzgefärbten
Fingernägeln kraftvoll seine Schenkel auseinander. Seine Gliedmaßen sind durch
seidene Bänder gefesselt fest anliegend und trotzdem sanft weich wie ihre
Haut.
Der Raum ist weiß, kalt und steril im Gegensatz zu seinem heißen fleischigem
Verlangen seiner Erektion. Gegenüber in einem wandgroßen Spiegel sieht er sich
und seinen Schwanz sowie Ryn über ihn gebeugt zu seiner Rechten. Ihr dunkles
Haar fällt über ihn, und kitzelt seine Leisten, als sie begierig seinen Penis
abschätzt und genussvoll die Maschine in welche er eingelegt und zerschnitten
werden wird betrachtet.
Dazu wird sie eine kleine Guillotine mit dünnen Doppelblättern aus
chirurgischem Stahl benutzen, welche mitleidlos und präzise durch vorgespannte
Federn so stark sind um zuverlässig das Stück Fleisch schnell zerteilen zu
können. Jede der Schneiden hat eine Kraft von 1000 Pfund oder einem Kilogramm.
Ein einfacher süßer Schmerz und ein einfacher Auslöseknopf an der Maschine
wird seinen Orgasmus für immer beenden. Dieser Schmerz wird synchron mit
seiner ersten Ejakulationswelle erfolgen, und so wird er gerade noch den
Anfang seines letzten Ergusses spüren, bevor die Maschine seinen Orgasmus
unterbricht und sein Schwanz vom Körper abgetrennt wird.
Ryn lächelt, und beginnt mit dem Reizen. Sie nimmt seinen hart pochenden
Schwanz in ihren Mund, und verteilt mit ihrer rosa feuchten Zunge sanft ihren
Speichel über das gesamte Glied, um ein leichteres Einführen in die Maschine
welche ihn abtrennen wird zu gewährleisten. Dazu muß sein gesamter Schwanz
sehr gleichmäßig mit Speichel bedeckt werden, damit er leicht und ohne die
Haut zu verletzen durch den engen Ring der Maschine mit den entsicherten und
gespannten Schneidklingen schlüpfen kann. Ryn trägt einen schwarzen
Lippenstift, welcher sich über seinen Schwanz legt, und ihn wie ein zartes
Todesnetz bedeckt. Er stöhnt, und hält sein Gefühl gewaltsam zurück, seine
Penismuskeln kontrahierend, während sie sich über seine Anstrengungen nur
amüsiert. „Nein, bitte tue es nicht, ich habe es mir überlegt“ fleht er,
„bitte schneide mir nicht meinen heißgeliebten Schwanz ab“. „Zu spät“ gibt sie
kalt grinsend zurück. Sie wird seine Entmannung jetzt genießen, und wenn es so
weit ist einen außergewöhnlich starken Orgasmus haben.
Sie kniet jetzt auf dem Boden und reizt den Schwanz indem sie mit ihren
schwarzen Lippen die Haut des Schwanzes auf und nieder schiebt und in die
Basis des Schwanzes mit ihren scharfen Zähnen hineinbeißt und dabei leicht mit
ihrer flinken Zunge die Eichel stimuliert. Er krümmt sich und erliegt ihren
Verführungen wobei wahre Wogen der Wonne ihn erfassen. Von der Peniswurzel bis
zur Eichelspitze verwöhnt sie ihn unermüdlich. Sie weiß, dass er irgendwann
ejakulieren wird, und dann wird er nur noch die erste Welle seines letzten
Orgasmus spüren.
Nach einem Moment stoppt sie abrupt, und entlässt den Schwanz aus ihrem Mund.
Es wird das letzte Mal gewesen sein, dass sein Schwanz die warme Mundhöhle
eines geilen Weibes genießen konnte. Mit der linken Hand greift sie die
Schwanzwurzel und beginnt sie genüsslich rythmisch zu quetschen, um den
beginnenden Orgasmus, welcher durch das Zittern und Pochen des empfindlichen
Organs angedeutet wird, zu unterdrücken. Er stöhnt unter dem Abbruch seiner
geilen Wonnegefühlen und versucht durch Bewegung seiner Hüften den Reiz mehr
über den gesamten Schaft des Schwanzes zu verteilen, was ihm jedoch durch die
zarten Bänder, welche seine Oberschenkel weit gespreizt fest an den
Stuhlbeinen fixieren, nicht gelingen kann. Sein ganzer Körper bäumt sich gegen
den verhinderten Orgasmus auf, und erschaudert unter der Verweigerung der
Verzückung.
„Es ist jetzt soweit“ sagt sie. Ryn macht die Maschine klar, und ergreift die
Spitze seines Schwanzes und führt sie durch den Ring der Maschine zwischen die
gespannten und entsicherten superscharfen Klingen. Der Anblick des starken
Schwanzes kurz vor seiner Zerstörung löst ein Wonnegefühl in ihrem Schoß aus.
Ein Weib hat dereinst dieses kostbare Glied geschaffen, und ein Weib (Ryn)
wird es zerstören. „Neeeiiin bitte“ schreit er als sie seinen Schwanz jetzt an
der Spitze ergreift durch den Ring zieht. Anders als in der weichen warmen und
feuchten Scheide eines Weibes wird der Schwanz jetzt durch den kalten
Stahlring umklammert. Der Ring umfasst den Schwanz und sichert das exakte
Führen der Klingen, und bestimmt exakt den Punkt an welchem der Schwanz vom
Körper getrennt wird.
Der größte Teil seines Schwanzes ist jetzt schon durch den Ring, aber sie
schiebt ihn weiter bis zum Ende, damit das gesamte Organ abgetrennt wird. „Ich
will dass er vollständig abgeschnitten wird, du sollst nicht mal einen kleinen
Stummel zum Spielen übrig behalten“ sagt sie. Und mit einem Ruck zieht sie das
letzte Stückchen Fleisch durch den Ring, sodass der Ring jetzt endgültig an
der Wurzel des kostbaren Stückes angekommen ist. Ein großer roter Knopf löst
die Guillotine aus, und wird unwiderruflich das kostbare Organ zu totem
Fleisch degradieren, zu nichts mehr nutze, höchstens noch zum kochen und
aufessen. Der Schwanz würde dann verdaut den Darm in entgegengesetzter
Richtung als Kot das Weib welches ihn verspeist hat verlassen, und wäre nicht
mehr nachweisbar. Ryn sitzt etwas rechts vor ihm auf einem Stuhl, und er kann
ihre erregte geöffnete Vulva erkennen. Sie ist nass vor Erwartung! Über den
Spiegel kann er auch seinen verdammten steifen pulsierenden Schwanz in dem
Ring der Maschine sehen. Ebenfalls kann er über den Spiegel ihren geilen
formvollendeten Arsch erkennen, welcher sich verlockend auf dem Stuhl
ausbreitet.
Jetzt beginnt sie noch einmal seinen Schwanz mit ihrem Mund und ihren Lippen
zu reizen. Der Metallring kneift etwas als sie mit den schwarzen Lippen bis
zum Ende des Schaftes diese kostbaren Juwels kommt, welches bald nur noch
totes Fleisch sein wird. „Der Reiz und dein Vergnügen ist zu stark für Dich“
warnt sie und nimmt einen kleinen Schlüsselring, welchen sie mit Speichel
befeuchtet und fest über die Eichel presst bis in Höhe des Bändchens. Sie
drückt dazu mehrmals die Eichel fest zusammen und befeuchtet sie auch mit dem
Saft welcher jetzt aus ihrer Scheide kommt und ihre Erregung verrät. Letztlich
sitzt der Ring in der Rille am Ende der Eichel und schneidet fest in das
empfindliche Fleisch. Jetzt nimmt sie wieder den Schwanz in ihren Mund und
massiert hart mit ihren Lippen den gesamten Schaft, wobei es jetzt zwei Zonen
gibt welche kneifen und schmerzen: Einmal durch die Maschine an der
Schwanzwurzel und einmal am Kopf durch den Schlüsselring. Sein Vergnügen ist
daher etwas gezügelt, und sie kostet jetzt jeden Moment bis zum Finale aus,
und sie weiß, das dauert nicht mehr sehr lange. Bald wird es vorüber sein.
Jeder krampfhafte Versuch der Unterdrückung seines Ergusses löst wiederum
einen Reflex durch die Ringe aus, und er kann nichts dagegen unternehmen.
Sie stoppt und blickt genauer auf die Eichel seines Schwanzes. Sie ist
hellrosa feucht und glänzend. Liebestropfen kündigen von der alsbaldigen
Ejakulation und verraten somit seinen Zustand bzw. den Fortschritt ihres
mechanischen Reizes. Sie verreibt seine Liebestropfen in die Rille und das
Bändchen, die empfindlichsten Stellen seines Schwanzes. Dann nimmt sie einen
Katheder in die andere Hand, und führt diesen langsam über die jetzt gut
geölte Pissröhre ein. Die Liebestropfen haben die Röhre gut geschmiert und der
Katheder lässt sich zügig einführen. Langsam verteilt sie weiter mit ihrem
Zeigefinger die Liebestropfen auf der Eichel.
Damit sein Leiden noch etwas verlängert wird, beschließt sie das Vergnügen für
ihn etwas zu reduzieren, und wird brutaler. Sie ritzt mit dem großen Diamant
welcher den Ring auf ihrem Zeigefinger ziert hart über die Eichel. Der Diamant
verletzt das freiliegende verwundbare hochempfindliche Fleisch. Es macht
nichts, wenn sie dem empfindlichen Fleisch noch ein paar Verletzungen
beibringt, es wird ihre Behandlung verlängern, und für den bald leblosen
Schwanz sind solche zusätzlichen Verletzungen jetzt eh nicht mehr von
Bedeutung. Und Ryn hat ihren zusätzlichen Spaß daran. Er kontrahiert seine
Penismuskulatur bei jeder schmerzhaften Berührung mit dem Ring und erbebt
sowohl vor Schmerzen als auch vor Vergnügen.
Sie beschäftigt sich weiter mit ihrem Spiel von Zuckerbrot und Peitsche und
schiebt langsam den Katheter weiter in die Pissröhre. Er nimmt dies durch ihre
Berührungen auf der Eichel kaum zur Kenntnis. Letztlich hat sie die gesamte
Länge des Katheters von 12“ in die Pissröhre geschoben. Das Ende des Katheters
schaut kaum noch heraus, und Liebestropfen perlen immer noch aus der
Pissröhre. Der Katheter ist jetzt vollständig in die Röhre eingeführt und wird
durch die Maschine ebenso wie das Schwanzfleisch durchgetrennt werden.
„Ok, mach dich fertig für deinen letzten Schuss“ sagt sie jetzt mit etwas
erregter Stimme. Ihre Pussy ist nicht mehr feucht, nein sie ist tropfnass! Ryn
geht jetzt hinter den Unglücklichen. lässt jedoch ihren Finger weiter auf
seiner Eichel kreisen. Eigentlich gönnt sie ihm den letzten Spaß gar nicht,
aber um selbst einen Super-Orgasmus zu haben muss sie das jetzt zu Ende
führen. Von hinten presst sie ihre Schamlippen an seinen Oberkörper und
umklammert den Oberkörper mit ihren wohlgeformten Beinen. Sie hat jetzt den
gleichen Blick auf dem zum Tode verurteilten Schwanz wie sein Noch-Besitzer.
Sie sieht sein Pochen wenn sie die Eichel reizt. Sie sitzt sozusagen in der
ersten Reihe bei einer sexuellen Enthauptung. Er fühlt die Hitze ihrer Spalte,
und lechzt nach ihrer Lustgrotte, aber die kalte Maschine lässt ihn
erschauern. Er würde seinen Schwanz so gerne in ihre weiche feuchte Lustspalte
stecken, aber der kalte Stahl der Maschine hindert ihn daran.
Ihre Finger werden jetzt langsamer, und sie streichelt und verletzt die Eichel
weiterhin abwechselnd mit ihrem Zeigefinger und dem Diamant ihres Ringes und
die Eichel ist jetzt schon ganz schön aufgerieben. Sie streichelt ihn nur noch
wenig, und er sehnt sich nach jeder zarten Berührung, welche sie ihm aber nur
noch widerwillig gewährt. Er genießt jede köstliche Berührung ihrer Finger.
Sie will weder ihre Hand noch zusätzliche Finger benutzen, sie will ihm nur so
wenig Vergnügen bereiten, damit es gerade ausreicht für ein letztes Kommen und
sie sofort die Maschine veranlassen kann ihn mitten im Höhepunkt von seinem
kostbaren Glied zu befreien und ihm dieses Vergnügen für immer zu nehmen.
Sein letzter Orgasmus ist jetzt nicht mehr fern. Er genießt jede Bewegung
ihrer Finger auf dem geröteten Fleisch seiner Eichel. Liebestropfen kommen
immer noch aus der Pissröhre und sie verreibt diese weiter auf dem
empfindlichen Kopf des Schwanzes. Somit bleibt die Eichel naß. Bald wird sie
naß sein von Fett, heißem Fett in der Pfanne, in welcher der Schwanz gebraten
und anschließend flambiert wird, bevor ihn Ryn genüsslich verspeist. Kein
Beweis wird zu erbringen sein, wo der Schwanz geblieben ist. Ihr Zeigefinger
ist ebenfalls naß von seinen Liebestropfen und ihre Fingernägel mit dem
schwarzen Nagellack glänzen verführerisch. Sie nimmt ihren Zeigefinger kurz
weg, und taucht ihn in ihre nasse Lustgrotte und benetzt den Finger
vollständig mit ihrem eigenen Saft. Dann schmiert sie ihren Saft über den
gesamten Schwanz, indem sie den Finger immer wieder in ihre Pussy taucht und
ihr edles Sekret immer wieder auf seinen Schwanz überträgt. „Dies ist das
letzte Mal, dass Dein Schwanz den Saft einer Pussy fühlt“ sagt sie mit
deutlicher Erregung in ihrer Stimme, allerdings fehlt leider die enge weiche
Umschmiegung der weiblichen Scheide. Ihr Scheidensaft wärmt und erregt ihn,
und er beginnt zu stöhnen.
Sie merkt, dass er jetzt sehr nahe vor seinem letzten Schuss steht, und sie
ergreift die Maschine mit ihrer linken Hand. Sie keucht jetzt in sein Ohr,
sein Ohrläppchen leckend und beißend. Sie beginnt seine Eichel gezielt mit dem
Diamant zu ritzen, und bald ist sie richtig verkratzt. Sie macht jetzt beides
abwechselnd. Aber er genießt selbst den harten Schmerz wenn sie mit ihrem
Diamanten sein kostbares Fleisch aufritzt. Sein Atem wird kurz, und er fällt
jetzt in den ultimativ letzten Akt der sexuellen Erregung. Seine Hüften
versuchen zu stoßen um ihren Finger zu erreichen, den sie ihm entzieht und nur
noch widerwillig gönnt, aber die seidenen Bänder verhindern das, was sie zu
schallendem höhnischen schadenfrohen Gelächter bringt.
Sie entzieht ihm absichtlich ihre Streicheleinheiten auf seiner Eichel, um
seinen Schmerz und sein Verlangen zu steigern. Ihr Daumen und ihr Zeige-,
Mittel- und Ringfinger umgreifen fest den Schaft seines Schwanzes, und
abwechselnd fährt ihr Ring über die Eichel oder der Ringfinger massiert die
Eichel. Sie macht dies jetzt in einer sehr aufreizenden Art, und er hungert
nach jeder weiteren Liebkosung aber sie gewährt ihm jetzt nur noch widerwillig
und sehr rar diese Streicheleinheiten. Er lechzt und schmachtet und vergisst
die Maschine. Nur ihre Berührung und dieses süße Gefühl leiten ihn, und er
genießt jede kleinste Berührung die sie ihm gewährt. Sie fühlt jetzt eine
Muskelbewegung in seinem Penis und weiß, jetzt ist das Ende gekommen. Eine
großes Gefühl der Macht durchströmt ihren Körper. Sie wird jetzt Henker für
den kostbarsten Besitz eines Mannes sein, und durch bloße mechanische
Manipulation einen Mann so zum Wahnsinn treiben, dass dieser wissend um seine
Entmannung bei Erreichen seines Orgasmus durch seine niedrigen Instinkte sein
Urteil über seine Männlichkeit praktisch selbst spricht.
Ryn ergreift die Maschine mit der linken Hand, und reibt ihre Klitoris hart am
Rücken des Unglücklichen. Ihre Schamlippen sind jetzt weit geöffnet, naß,
warm, köstlich süß, und sie geniest den Anblick der Maschine über dem
pochenden Glied. Sie leckt sein Genick und presst nochmals ihre Klitoris an
seinen Körper und fühlt, dass seine Beherrschung jetzt endgültig zu Ende ist.
Er kann es nicht mehr zurückhalten. Er fühlt einen tiefen Impuls in seinem
Schwanz und weiß jetzt ist sein Schicksal besiegelt. Einmal noch darf er kurz
spritzen. Eine unkontrollierbare Welle des Vergnügens packt ihn, tief von der
Basis seines Gliedes. Eine gigantische Kontraktion schleudert eine Blase von
heißem Samen aus der Spitze seines kostbarsten Stückes. „Das war’s“ spricht
sie mit süßer Stimme, und preßt den roten Knopf der Maschine herunter. Als sie
den Knopf drückt, preßt sie ihre Klitoris wieder gegen seinen Körper und spürt
einen gewaltigen Stoß in dem Moment, als die scharfen Klingen den Schwanz vom
Körper des Unglücklichen trennen. Eine mächtige Woge eines nie erreichten
Orgasmus erfaßt ihren gesamten Körper und durchfährt sie wie einen Blitz mit
unvorstellbarer Energie.
Die Klingen sind frei, und genau als ein zweiter Schwall von Samen den Schaft
emporsteigen wollte, ist sein Schwanz abgetrennt, und der Strom von Samen ist
abrupt unterbrochen. Sie sieht seinen abgetrennten Penis im Todeskrampf
bedingt durch die Nerven ein wenig restlichen Samen ausspucken, als der
gewaltige Orgasmus sie trifft. Sie drückt aus dem toten abgetrennten Organ in
ihrer Hand mit gewaltiger Anstrengung den Rest der paar Samentropfen heraus.
Welch erhebender Anblick. Sie ist am Ziel ihrer grausamen Träume!
„Oooooooohhhh, was ein gigantischer Fuck“ schreit sie. Solch ein Erlebnis
sollte jede Frau wenigstens einmal in ihrem Leben haben. Wieder preßt sie ihre
Klitoris gegen den Körper des entmannten Individiums. Er war jetzt ein Es! Das
abgetrennte Organ schrumpelte jetzt etwas. Sie nimmt es auf, küßt es mit ihren
nassen schwarzen Lippen und verspottet den Entmannten. Vor seinen ungläubigen
entsetzten Augen führt sie den abgetrennten Schwanz in ihre Pussy ein, zieht
ihn heraus, führt ihn ein, zieht ihn heraus und fragt: „Na, kommt’s dir,
fühlst du ihn, ich fühle ihn! Aber er scheint ein bisschen klein zu sein. Ich
glaube zum Ficken taugt der nichts mehr“! Sie wirft ihn in eine bereitstehende
Pfanne mit Fett. „Jetzt kommst du ins Fett, und nicht in die Futt“ spricht sie
laut lachend, und beobachtet ihr geschlechtloses Etwas.
Nach dem Abtrennen des Schwanzes hatte der Geschlechtslose noch Ejakulationen,
aber das Vergnügen und die Befriedigung endete zu dem Zeitpunkt des
Durchtrennens. Da seine Vorsteherdrüsen versuchten den Samen herauszupumpen,
fühlte er nur ein freudloses Fließen einer Flüssigkeit aus ihm egal ob Pisse,
Blut oder Samen, aber keine Verzückung oder Freude hervorgerufen durch die
Kontraktion des Penismuskels. Sein Penis setzte nach dem Abtrennen die
Ejakulation fort und einige Minuten vergingen, bis die Freude verblasste und
durch den beginnenden Todeskampf abgelöst wurde. Die späteren Wellen des
Vergnügens wurden exakt da unterbrochen, als die Klingen die Mitte des
Schwanzes erreichten, aber eine begleitende Welle des Genusses von dem letzten
Herausspritzen des Samens aus dem bebendem Organ vertrieben wurde.
Da Nervenimpulse viel langsamer als Licht transportiert werden, sah er
tatsächlich für eine bestimmte Zeit den abgetrennten Penis ejakulieren, und
spürte noch die Wonnen seines Abspritzens, als bereits Ryn in Verzückung das
abgetrennte Glied wegzog und er noch die erlöschende Glut seines ersten
Orgasmus fühlte. Diese Erinnerung behielt er noch für den gesamten Rest seines
Lebens. Es verfolgt ihn in seinen fiebrigen Träumen – ein abgetrennter
Schwanz, nicht länger Teil von seinem Körper, und zur gleichen Zeit erlebte er
das glühende Gefühl des letzen herausgefolterten Zuckens aus dem Penismuskel.
Überflüssig zu sagen, dass sein sexuelles Vergnügen vorüber war. Sein
Verlangen aber blieb, da das grausame Weib ihm seine Eier gelassen hatte,
welche weiterhin das Testosteron produzieren. Sie jedoch behielt ihn als ihren
Sklaven, und quälte ihn indem sie ihm so oft als möglich ihre offene bereite
Spalte zeigte. Vögeln jedoch tat sie ein anderer Mann, und ihm, dem
Schwanzlosen, überließ sie allenfalls das Lecken ihrer Muschi, auch wenn sie
gerade frisch gefüllt war. Das aber war ihm manchmal egal, da er wahnsinnig
vor Verlangen war.
* * * |
Eine Neue Methode. German Language | GAY, TESTICLES | “Morgen wirst Du kastriert. Basta.” Dann schlug die Tür zu. Tim stand nackt
da. Dann drehte er sich um und schlüpfte wieder zu dem blonden Jungen ins
Bett. Der grinste ihn an und sagte:” Dann haben unsere Treffen wohl bald ein
Ende. Wenn Du erst keine Eier mehr hast.”
“Halts Maul.” herrschte Tim ihn an. Dann drang er in den Jungen ein und nach
einigen heftigen Stößen schoss er sein Sperma in dessen Darm.
Tatsächlich brachte Tims Vater ihn am nächsten Tag zu einem Arzt. Der
untersuchte Tims Geschlechtsteile sehr genau. Für Tim war das sehr Peinlich,
weil er schnell eine Latte bekam.
Der Arzt beendete die Untersuchung und schickte Tim ins Nebenzimmer.
“Herr Meier. Eine Kastration birgt immer ein Risiko. Eventuell ein
Operationsschock. Oder eine Entzündung. Außerdem bleibt oft eine hässliche
Narbe zurück.” sagte der Arzt.
“Aber es muss doch was passieren Herr Doktor. Es wird immer Schlimmer mit ihm.
Jetzt schläft er schon mit seinem kleinen Freund. Ich bin bald verzweifelt.
Sein Bruder ist ein Jahr älter und hat schon 5 Babys gemacht. Mit 15 Jahren.
Er ist jetzt im Heim. Aber demnächst kommt er wieder nach Haus. Und dann habe
ich zwei von der Sorte. Einer bespringt jeden Rock, und der andere ist Schwul.
Das halte ich nicht aus.” sagte Tims Vater.
“Nun, ich meinte auch nur, dass es auch ohne Operation Möglichkeiten gibt. Zum
Beispiel mit Medikamenten.” sagte der Arzt. Tims Vater sah den Arzt fragend
an. “Ich habe großen Erfolg mit einem neuen Produkt eines Labors. Die
Anwendung ist sehr einfach.” Der Arzt legte eine Kapsel auf den Schreibtisch.
“Geben Sie ihrem Sohn diese Kapsel in einer Mahlzeit. Innerhalb von 24 Stunden
sterben seine Hoden ab. Dann geben Sie ihm noch 3 Monate diese Tabletten.”
Er legte noch eine Packung auf den Tisch. “Das unterdrückt jeden Sexualtrieb
und sorgt dafür, dass sein Penis schrumpft. Danach hat er den Penis eines 9
Jährigen Jungen. Und die abgestorbenen Hoden, werden vollständig abgebaut.
Diese Methode ist Neu aber absolut sicher.”
Tims Vater nickte begeistert. Er zuckte zwar kurz als er den Preis hörte, aber
200 Dollar war ihm die Sache wert. Er kaute sogar noch eine weitere Kapsel für
seinen anderen Sohn, falls der in alte Gewohnheiten zurückfallen sollte.
Auf der Heimfahrt war Tim sehr ruhig. Er glaubte noch mal davon gekommen zu
sein.
Er schickte seinem blonden Freund eine SMS “ Meine Klöten sind noch dran.
Erwarte Dich in einer Stunde.”
Als der Junge kam, war Tim schon nackt. Er riss dem Jungen förmlich die
Klamotten vom Leib und fiel über ihn her.
Tims Vater bemerkte das Treiben:” Genieß nur Dein letztes Mal. Morgen ist der
Spaß dann vorbei.”
Am nächsten Morgen trank Tim wie immer seinen Saft. Er hatte keine Ahnung von
dem brisanten Inhalt des Getränks. Dann ging er zur Schule. Den ganzen Tag
spürte er ein seltsames aber sehr angenehmes Prickeln in seinen Hoden. Es
machte ihn richtig Geil, und er freute sich schon auf seinen Freund. Als der
kam, erlebte Tim aber eine Überraschung. Sein Glied wurde nur halb Steif.
Nichts zu machen. Sein Schwanz weigerte sich zu stehen. Der blonde Junge
lachte sich schlapp und Tim konnte nur seine Beine breit machen, und sich
besteigen lassen.
Am nächsten Tag ging gar nichts mehr. Sein Glied weigerte sich zu stehen.
Außerdem spürte er seine Hoden nicht mehr. Tim war am Verzweifeln.
Sein Vater beobachte sehr genau, wie Tim seinen Saft trank.
“Las mal Deine Hosen runter. Los. Los.” sagte er. Tim sah ihn fassungslos an.
Aber er gehorchte. Tims Vater massierte seinen Penis. Nichts. Dann kniff er
Tim kräftig in die Hoden. Nichts. Kein Schmerz. “Der Arzt hatte Recht. Du bist
Kastriert mein Junge. Deine Hoden sind Tot. Und Dein Penis wird nie wieder
Steif.” Tim konnte nicht glauben was er da hörte. Aber es war wohl Wahr.
Tim ging verzweifelt zur Schule.
3 Monate später waren Tims Hoden fast verschwunden. Sein Penis weigerte sich
anzuschwellen. Und er war um einiges geschrumpft. Von stattlichen 16
Zentimetern auf 7.
Und er schrumpfte weiter. Nach weiteren 2 Monaten hatte Tims Penis nur noch 2
Zentimeter Durchmesser und war nur noch 5 Zentimeter lang. Die Hoden waren
völlig verschwunden und sein leerer Hodensack war auch nur noch zu erahnen.
Außerdem verlor Tim auch seine Schambehaarung. Er sah zwischen seinen Beinen
aus wie ein kleiner Junge.
Schon nach wenigen Tagen nach der Einnahme des Präparates hatte Tim jedes
Interesse an Sex verloren.
Nach diesem Erfolg beschloss sein Vater auch Tims Bruder eine Behandlung zu
verpassen.
* * * |
|
Clitoridectomy Support Group 5 My plan | clitoridectomy | My plan to lose my clitoris | My plan
I continued my assignment. But I could not get the idea out of my head. I knew
what I had to do and I knew who could help me.
I contacted Christine. She was reluctant to meet. I think she might have been
embarrassed by our last meeting. However we did meet at the centre. At the
same table we had been at before, we again had some tea. I asked Christine how
she was.
‘Deflowered,’ she replied.
‘That’s progress,’ I said.
She smiled and said, ‘Yes, penetration is a relief. I don’t feel anywhere near
as bad as I did.’
‘You remember our last conversion?’
‘Yes, of course. I was bitter against everybody.’
‘Are all those feelings gone?’
‘No, not quite. They do resurface from time to time.’
‘Would you still like to cut of my clitoris?’
She looked me in the eyes, “Are you serious?’
“I think so.’
“Then I’m your girl.’
“I have some arrangements to make. I want you to help me.’
‘You mean were not going to go and do this right away?’
‘No, I want an audience.’
I explained my plan. She looked at me and said she wasn’t sure it would work.
In the main hallway of the centre were two upright pillars, both of wood. They
were about ten feet apart. In front of them was a space of about 20 feet
square where spectators could gather.
My plan was to be spreadeagled between the columns, with my crotch at head
height so everyone could watch me. A smooth wire would be attached around my
clitoris, which would lead backwards about five feet to a pulley wheel and a
light weight. I would be able to thrust against the wire to bring myself to
orgasm. At the point of orgasm, Christine would press the remote control
activating a miniature guillotine on the wire. This would slice off my
clitoris and then be pulled backwards out of the way by the wire and the
weight.
Christine looked at me. “You really are an exhibitionist. But could you
actually come in those circumstances?’
‘I’m not sure. I will probably need a rehearsal.’
‘I think we’ll need Sal and Marion to help. They’re really good at
contraptions.’
* * * |
Tim's Last Orgasm 4: Tim Finds A Clinic | GAY, PENECTOMY, MINOR | Tim keeps searching and advertising, and eventually finds a clinic that shows real promise. | ` IV Tim Finds A Clinic `
Over the next month or so Tim spent many hours chatting with Eric. He told him
of all the incidents in his life that had led to his final decision while Eric
tried to convince him to consider being castrated instead. "If you simply cut
off your cock you'll still have the same desires and needs," he said. "But you
will have no way of relieving yourself. You won't be attractive to women, and
even men won't want you if you continue to refuse to even discuss anal sex."
But Tim had made up his mind. "That's exactly what I want," he replied every
time it was brought up. He said that he loved his cock and the feelings it
gave him, but it was time his sex life was over, and this was the way he had
chosen. Eric was really beginning to develop a feeling for Tim now, so he
continued to try and convince his new young e-friend to consider other
alternatives.
Tim was sure he wasn't going to take Eric's suggestions. Eric was all about
slavery and bondage, torture and pain. None of those things interested Tim,
although he had tried to get himself interested because so far Eric was the
only chance he had; but try as he might, he simply could not force himself to
accept submitting himself to such indignities. He had been severely
traumatized by his dream, especially considering the fact that he had no one
to share it with or discuss its meaning. He kept up his association with Eric
though, because if nothing else turned up, this was better than nothing. If he
absolutely could not find a legitimate medical facility to do the job, he
might have to resort to what Eric was offering. It wasn't what he wanted, but
the end result would be the same. If he got desperate, he thought, he could
always enlist the help of Larry to act as a monitor to be sure Eric didn't go
too far.
If Tim had been skilled enough to do a little more self analysis, he would
have known that his chats with Eric were somewhat therapeutic. Even though
Eric was only a name and someone somewhere in the huge cloud that is called
Internet, he was someone with whom Tim had shared things he'd never told
anyone else. Eric was the only one who knew of Tim's passion and plans. Anyone
who had taken Psychology 101 would realize what Tim didn't: that what he was
planning was very traumatic and had to be talked out, so Tim had a deep need
to keep up the association even though he was becoming terrified of the man.
{Eric} How long until you're finished school for the year, Tim?
{Tim} A little more than a month. I get out for the year on June 7.
{Eric} Why don't you plan on spending a week or so with me here in Atlanta? Do
you think your parents would allow you to come?
{Tim} I can't, Eric. I have a job. I will be working for the whole summer, and
I want to be sure I have enough money when I find someone to do the surgery.
{Eric} Tim, you are not going to find a professional to do it. No one will do
it, especially since you are under age. And I have already told you, if you
allow me to do it for you, it won't cost you anything.
{Tim} There must be someone, somewhere. All I have to do is keep looking. You
know I have been advertising on the net.
{Eric} Yes I've seen some of your ads. Rather bold, don't you think?
{Tim} It's safe enough. There are certain benefits to working for the same
computer store for three years. I have a perfectly secure Internet account
through them, and every single word I send and receive is encrypted. Even the
email account I gave in those ads is bogus. I can access the account and check
the messages, but it is meaningless to everyone else. Anything that comes and
goes on that email account goes through a server in Germany.
{Eric} How do you do that, Tim?
{Tim} If I told you, it wouldn't be perfectly secure, would it?
{Eric} Ok, I get the message. But there's something I'd like you to try, Tim.
It is fairly easy, and I think it will tell you something about yourself. I
think you owe it to yourself to give it a try, ok?
{Tim} What is it?
{Eric} Will you do it?"
{Tim} I won't make any promises until I find out what it is you want me to do.
{Eric} It's really very simple. Actually the more I think about it, the more I
think you would want to do it, for your own sanity. For the remaining time you
are in school, I would like you to pretend you have already had the surgery.
That means for the next month you have to sit down to pee, always. No jerking
off, no getting yourself off in any way. Treat your penis as if it were
already gone! That way you will get a small sample of what it will be like
once you've really lost it. Will you do it?
{Tim} Yeah man! I think that's a great idea! I'll start tonight.
{Eric} No, not tonight. You should treat yourself to one last wonderful orgasm
tonight, all the time telling yourself this is your very last. Psych yourself
up for this, and then when you wake in the morning it will be as if you have
awakened from the surgery. Your penis will be gone for a whole month. I can
even help you get a chastity belt if you think that will help.
{Tim} I don't need any chastity belt. You don't think I can do it, do you?
{Eric} Frankly no, I don't. That means no urinals at school, no sneaking a few
strokes in the stalls, nothing!
{Tim} Bet you a blow job I can do it.
{Eric} That won't be necessary, Tim. Just do it for yourself.
{Tim} Ok, I will start in the morning.{Eric} Great! I have to go now. Have fun
tonight because it's your last for a month!
{Tim} You're on! Bye Eric.
Tim was excited by Eric's proposition. He wouldn't be completely nullified as
he wanted, but it would be the second best thing. He was already planning to
go far beyond the month commitment he'd made to Eric. Perhaps he could start
the rest of his life now, so when he finally had the surgery it would be no
big deal. He would be removing a part of his body he no longer used anyway.
This was gonna be great!
Before he shut down the computer, Tim checked for mail on his phoney email
accounts, but there was nothing there. He followed up on two links he'd heard
about on the Eunuch Archive, but they both turned out to be nothing of
interest. One of them did indeed do SRS surgery, but only after extensive
psychological testing. The other was a urinary clinic that claimed to do all
sorts of different "cosmetic" surgeries, but only on patients over 18. _Same
old crap!_ he muttered to himself as he secured everything and then shut the
computer down. _What the heck is so special about bein' 18 anyway?_ It was
still early, so he wandered downstairs to see his family. In his mind this was
what he would do if he were facing surgery in the morning, and in his
fantasies that's precisely what he was doing.
"Is something wrong?" Tim's Dad asked as he noticed his son drifting about the
living area as if lost.
"No, Dad," Tim replied. "What makes you think there's something wrong?"
"I dunno, Tim. You just seem... different somehow. You don't usually come
downstairs in the evening unless you have some purpose. You seem sorta lost or
something." Tim ached to tell his parents that he was having surgery in the
morning, just to add to the fantasy, but he knew better that to try such a
bold move.
"I think he's in love," Terry offered with a mischievous grin.
"Timmy, you do have a girl friend, don't you?" his mother told more than
asked.
"No, Mom, I don't have a girl friend! And I'm not in love! Terry, I'm gonna
kill you!" The little boy giggled.
Terry's giggle was too much. Tim loved that giggle! It was so honest, so
innocent, so infectious! He attacked his brother, and in minutes both boys
were rolling on the living room floor, both giggling and tickling, punching
playfully, showing every indication they were going to trash the entire house
before they were through. "Boys!" their mother yelled.
"Let them be," their father said. "They don't do things like that nearly
enough. They're brothers, Honey! I love it when they act like brothers." Their
mother knew he was right, and she did have to admit it was nice seeing her
children having fun together for the first time in quite a while.
It didn't take too long for Tim to get the better of his brother. Of course
they both knew he would, but the tussle had been fun for both of them anyway.
Now Tim was sitting on Terry's chest, his knees holding Terry's elbows nailed
to the floor. The little boy was panting, sweating, still struggling, and
still giggling. Tim noticed with some dismay that he was hard as a rock, and
he knew Terry had noticed it as well. But Tim had noticed that Terry was also
somewhat aroused. It hadn't been on purpose, but during their wrestling Tim
had brushed his brother's groin and felt the unmistakable prodding of a penis
that was obviously not that of a little boy. Terry was indeed in puberty!
"You got a woodie!" Terry giggled, not loud enough for their parents to hear.
"So do you," Tim countered as he tickled Terry's ribs. Now Terry was really
giggling. "How do you know?" he challenged. Tim didn't know what to say.
Remembering that their parents were in the room, he screwed up his face and
motioned for his brother to drop it. Terry got the message and Tim let him up
before anything else embarrassing happened. He had a horrific aching boner now
and he knew it wasn't going to go away before he took care of it, so he
announced he was going to bed. "Me too!" Terry said. They said good-night to
their parents and both headed up the stairs.
In his room, Tim was half expecting his brother to ask to come in, but he
didn't. Tim didn't know if he was relieved or disappointed as he busied
himself getting ready for bed. Once he was down to his boxers, he slipped out
the bedroom door and across the hall to the bathroom. At the last moment he
remembered his commitment and sat down to relieve himself. _This isn't gonna
be too bad,_ he said to himself. _Actually I kinda like the idea of sitting
down to pee, and I know Mom's gonna love it! No more piss on the floor and
toilet seat!_
Back in his room, Tim carefully locked the door. He fired up his computer and
looked for a hot story to get his engine really running. He browsed a few
stories, but couldn't find exactly what he wanted. He then went to a picture
site he had often visited, and there he wasn't disappointed. He began browsing
through dozens of pictures of naked boys and men, each one invoking a fantasy
in his mind as he slowly manipulated himself. This was going to be so awesome,
he thought, his last orgasm! He was really playing the part now, so he decided
to go to bed and make up his own story, acting it out as he went. Just as he
was getting settled, his mom tapped on the door. "Telephone, Tim," she said.
"It's Larry."
"Hi Larry," Tim said when he had put on his robe and picked up the phone in
his parents' room.
"Hey dude. Just checkin' in. What's goin' on, Tim?"
"Not much, Larry. Ok, I got it, Mom." Tim waited, and finally heard the click
as his mom hung up. "Sorry, Lar, but... well, I gotta talk to ya, but not
here."
"I understand, dude. I got the same problem. Basically that's why I was
callin.' What're ya doing Saturday?"
"I dunno. I guess I don't have any plans, really. What ya got in mind?"
"I thought maybe we could have a game of golf. My dad's already said I could
have the car and if you don't have the green fees it's ok, it's on me. I'm
really missing you buddy, an' I want to spend more time with ya."
"Saturday?" Tim said with hesitation. Golf had been the big barrier that had
kept Tim and Larry from being totally inseparable. Larry's dad was a total
golf nut, and Larry was following in his father's footsteps. Tim had tried,
but he just couldn't get into the game. But he did like a game once in a
while, especially when it was just he and Larry. "I suppose your tee time
isn't like 11 or something, is it?" he said.
"Fraid not, Tim," Larry said. To him it was no sacrifice to get up early to
play a round of golf. "How's a 7 AM tee time sound?"
"On a Saturday morning? Downright abusive!" Tim replied."Why don't you sleep
over?" Larry suggested. "That way I won't have to get up quite so early and
I'll be sure you're up."
"Sounds good, I guess," Tim said. He knew he didn't have to ask his parents
because his parents adored Larry, and had always agreed readily to whatever
Tim had to do to spend time with him. Tim loved Larry like a brother, even if
their paths had diverged somewhat. They agreed that Tim would go home with
Larry after school on Friday, returning home on Saturday night. They talked a
while about Larry's new girl friend who wasn't really a girl friend but merely
a girl he was hoping for, then they hung up.
Now Tim had to go get clearance with his parents for all that he'd just agreed
to, but he knew it wouldn't be a problem and he was right. "I wish I had got
interested in golf when I was your age," his father said. "I honestly think
that I could go further in my career if I was a golfer, but at my age it just
doesn't seem to work."
"It doesn't work with me either, Dad," Tim replied. "But lately it seems if I
want to spend any time at all with Larry, it's gotta be on the golf course."
"You're already better than I ever hope to be," his dad pointed out.
"Spending time with Larry is worth a lot of sacrifice," his mom added.
"Larry's such a nice boy! And so polite!"
Tim thanked his parents, then again headed for bed. It gave him a true,
genuine warm feeling that his parents were so approving of his very best
friend. He would never have admitted it to his mom, but she was right. Larry
was indeed a "nice" boy, and worth any sacrifice Tim had to make to spend time
with, including a day on the golf course.
Tim's Imaginary Emasculation
"Are you sure this is what you want, Tim?" a pretty male nurse asked. In Tim's
imagination, the nurse bore a striking resemblance to Terry, his brother.
"Yes," Tim replied. "I've been waiting for this moment my whole life!"
"In that case, I've been assigned to help you tonight with anything you want.
When you're ready to go to sleep I'm going to give you a shot, and you won't
wake up until the surgery is finished. I presume you'd like to cum one last
time?"
"Yes, sir," Tim responded as he slipped his boxers off. "I don't really need
any help though, thank you."
"I thought you might like to make this one special, since it's your last
time," the nurse said. "I really don't mind you know, you're a very nice
looking guy! Actually it's a bit of a shame they're gonna cut that off because
it really is a nice one." The male nurse was slowly slipping out of his white
uniform as he spoke, and the spectacle was causing an increasing amount of
blood to surge into Tim's already throbbing tool. "May I touch it?" the nurse
said when he was down to his briefs. Without waiting for an answer he gently
pushed Tim's hand away and began gently, slowly stroking Tim's anxious cock
with his hand.
Tim gasped as he tried to keep himself still on the hospital bed. This was
total heaven! Where in the world had this nurse been all his life? Why
couldn't they have gone to high school together? Why couldn't they have been
lovers all these years? If that had happened, Tim knew that he wouldn't now be
lying naked on a hospital bed, only a few hours away from being asexual
forever! The sensations coursing through his body were so incredible as this
man who looked like his brother stroked him gently, erotically.
Tim reached out his hand and felt the nurse's ample erection through his
briefs. He could see a small wet spot on the fabric, obviously a drop or two
of precum. The nurse responded by slipping his briefs down with his free hand,
then getting up on the bed to give his patient free access to his body. "When
you cum," the nurse said softly, "do you want it, or would you rather I take
it?"
"You can have it if you want it," Tim panted, "long as I can have yours."
"That sounds like a plan," the nurse said as he continued to stroke slowly,
gently, almost lovingly.
Tim felt the storm building in his loins, so he slowed his strokes almost to a
stop while his fantasy went on. His doomed cock was drooling a steady stream
now, and in his mind his nurse's was running a stream that had covered his
entire hand. He continued to admire the body of the imaginary man who was
getting him off and would then put him to sleep. He was about Tim's age,
although Tim knew in reality there would never be a sixteen year old nurse
doing what this one was doing; but this was a fantasy, and anything goes in a
fantasy. He was as handsome as a god, built like a swimmer and tanned a light
golden brown. His cock might well have been a clone of Tim's, although perhaps
a shade larger, and it was uncircumcised, just like Terry's.
Tim had picked up the pace of his stroking without even knowing it as his
fantasy took complete control of his mind. The nurse arranged himself on the
bed so that he would have oral access to Tim's load when it came, and Tim
would have access to his. They both knew it wouldn't be long now. "Think about
your orgasm, Tim," the nurse said almost in a whisper. "Analyze it when it
comes; savor it; enjoy it! Remember as you start to cum that this will be the
last time in your life you will have this feeling! Make it count, my handsome
young friend!"
Tim did indeed make it count. When he felt his first shot building, he was
totally paralyzed as his entire body went rigid, every ounce of his strength
and consciousness centered on the tiny muscles deep in his groin that would
propel his seed out of his manhood. He moaned softly, urgently as the first
volley came, landing squarely on his face as if it had been trained. The
fantasy was forgotten now as Tim concentrated with everything in him on his
orgasm. It was truly sensational!
"That was truly wonderful!" the imaginary nurse exclaimed as Tim came down off
his high. "Sleep now, my handsome young friend! When you wake up, you will
have your wish."
Tim's fantasy that night, the night before he was to begin his month of
celibacy, had a very dramatic effect on his mind. He awoke at 4 AM, having
just had another bone rattling orgasm in his sleep. It was the first wet dream
Tim had ever had, and would be his last for quite a while; but of course Tim
didn't know that. The experience served only to encourage Tim in his quest.
Now he knew that his body had a safety valve that worked; if he couldn't get
himself off, his body had the ability to do it on its own! At least that's
what he thought.
He had a bit of a mess to clean up in the morning. Two huge orgasms had left
their unmistakable mark on his bed clothes, so before he went for a shower he
had to change the sheets. He rolled up the soiled ones and hid them in his
closet, planning to wash them when he got home from school. Remembering that
he was supposed to be acting as if the surgery had already been done, he
smiled to himself. _This is the last time I'm gonna have to do this exercise,_
he said to himself.
"Man, you musta had some kinda good time last night," Terry exclaimed as soon
as they'd left the house. "I never heard so much moaning and groaning in my
life!"
"I dunno what in the world you're talking about," Tim replied defensively.
"Come on, big brother, how stupid d'ya think I am? I know you been doin' it
for years. I've even seen ya do it!" Tim's cock, the one that he was supposed
to be ignoring as if he no longer had it, sprang to full attention.
"Now it's you that don't know what you're talking about," Tim answered. "I
gotta give you this much, Terry, you certainly got a great imagination!"
"Yeah, well, we'll talk later. See ya tonight, Tim," Terry said with a wide
grin as he made his turn to go to his middle school. Tim thought he noticed as
Terry called his good-bye that there was a new hoarseness to the kid's soprano
voice. Or was it his imagination?
Now Tim was nervous; or was he simply incredibly turned on? What exactly had
his little brother heard? What had he seen, and when? Could it be that he had
got so turned on, so involved in what he was doing that he hadn't noticed
Terry watching him? Tim thought he was always very careful and had always
locked the door before his sessions. But he also knew how easy it was to
defeat that simple lock. He thought about getting a bolt for his door, but
then he remembered that would no longer be a problem. He was done with that
sort of thing, wasn't he? There was no doubt in his mind that he would do his
month of celibacy with no problem whatsoever, and having done the month he
would just continue. His hardon got even harder as he thought about that last
big orgasm, the REAL last one, after having deprived himself for almost a full
year until just before his emasculation. Man, that was going to be something!
Tim actually enjoyed school that day. Sitting to pee wasn't as much of a
hassle as he had expected. There were booths with toilets in the boys'
washrooms, but there were no doors! But to Tim's surprise, no one seemed to
notice that he wasn't standing at the urinals. Of course in the booths he
didn't enjoy the scenery he'd always made a point to watch as he relieved
himself, but that wasn't necessarily bad as he tried to force his mind to
think of other things. He was hard as a rock all day and didn't see any relief
from this situation any time soon, so he resolved to buy himself some briefs
to do what he could to restrain his raging member.
{Eric} So Tim, how did you do today?
{Tim} Fine. I sat down to pee all day. I kinda liked it!
{Eric} what about the other? Did you beat off today?
{Tim} Nope.
{Eric} And are you doing ok?
{Tim} So far so good. It isn't that bad really.
{Eric} I'm impressed. Frankly I didn't think you'd last that long.
{Tim} I told ya I could do it. This is really important to me.
{Eric} Well it's only one day. What about last night? Did you have your one
last orgasm?
{Tim} O yeah man! Did I ever!
{Eric} Tell me about it.
Tim did. He went into a great deal of detail about his evening, beginning with
his wrestling match with his brother and how hot that had made him. He went on
to describe his fantasy, about the male nurse who insisted on looking like his
brother no matter how hard Tim had tried to imagine someone else. He described
how that imaginary nurse had got him off, and how his imagination had actually
taken control of his mind and given him the most intense orgasm he had ever
experienced.
Eric watched the description of Tim's evening as it appeared on his screen,
line by line. Before Tim had really got into his account, Eric was breathing
hard and... well... HARD! Before Tim had got halfway through, Eric was
creaming his jeans, literally! By the time he had finished, Eric had done it
again! Somehow, some way, Eric had to meet Tim! He HAD to! But at the same
time he had come to the realization that he had met someone he cared for. This
young sixteen year old had more than captured Eric's fantasies; he had
captured his heart!
{Eric} Sounds to me like you should fool around with your brother before you
do anything drastic. I think he wants you, and there is no doubt you want him.
{Tim} No way man! He is my brother! And he's only 12!
{Eric} But from what you have told me he is a rather mature 12.
{Tim} It doesn't matter. I am not going to mess with my little brother! I love
him, Eric! But I don't love him that way. I love him enough to leave him
alone. I messed with one 12 year old and I've been carrying that guilt ever
since. I'm not gonna do that again and especially not to my brother.
{Eric} Ok, sorry, I was just making an observation. So how are you doing now?
{Tim} I already told you, I am doing fine.
{Eric} How about right now? Are you hard?
{Tim} Yes. I have been hard all day.
{Eric} Are you going to be able to get through the evening?
{Tim} You bet I am! Actually I have to go now. I have a big homework
assignment I have to do.{Eric} Ok my friend. Do your homework. And remember,
every time you think about getting yourself off, remember this is only a test.
Think about how it will be after you have your surgery. You won't be able to
just give up like you can now. Once you have lost your dick, it will be gone
forever! But if you follow my plan, you can always just beg your master to
take off your chastity belt for an hour or so. We could even arrange for some
sort of signal for when you are really desperate. It would be the very same
thing, but not so final.
{Tim} It wouldn't be the same at all, Eric. I would still have all that
equipment there, and more! I know that once it's gone, it's gone for good.
That is what I am waiting for. But being dependent on someone else is not my
thing. I've already told you, Eric, I am not into all that. I just want my
cock gone and I won't be happy until I have it done. Bye for now Eric.
{Eric} Bye Tim.
Tim hadn't been exactly truthful with his chat buddy. Yes, he did have an
assignment he had to do tonight, but he knew it wouldn't take that long. But
he wanted to track down three leads he'd got from answers to his Internet ads.
Hopefully they would give him some real leads to where he could get his
surgery. He was starting to get really frustrated with Eric, but he had to
keep up the contact just in case. If nothing else turned up, he might have to
resort to Eric, as much as he found the idea distasteful.
And then there was Terry. His little brother had said this morning that he
wanted to talk tonight, and Tim was very anxious to hear what he had to say.
He wasn't very proud of what was in his mind, would never have admitted it,
but Tim was wondering, hoping, would Terry want to talk about his sexuality?
Not that Tim would ever bring it up, but if Terry did...
Tim's thoughts drifted to Nathan and their encounter in the Boy Scout tent. He
had just told Eric about the guilt he was bearing for that incident, and that
revelation was a surprise even to Tim. As he thought about the boy he thought
he'd harmed irreparably, and he wished things could have been different with
Nathan. Tim and Terry were four years apart in age. Why the hell couldn't
their parents have had another boy in between? And why couldn't that boy have
been Nathan? Once more Tim thought of calling him, but then he remembered the
consequences and he abandoned the idea. Nathan was better off without him and
he knew it.
There were five emails tonight, but only one of interest to Tim. The four
discards were all from "cutters" who were anxious to meet Tim, all assuring
him that they could do the job with the skill and finesse of a major surgeon.
Of these Tim wanted no part; but the fifth had Tim's heart really racing! It
was a link... just a link! There was no message, no other information, just a
link; but Tim had a feeling about this link. Just as his shaking finger
clicked the mouse, there was a light tap on his bedroom door. "Tim?" a young
male voice called. "Can I come in?" Tim quickly clicked on STOP on his
browser, then closed the window and unlocked the door.
"Tim, can you please help me with this math?" Terry said. "I been workin' on
it all evening and I just don't get it! I asked Mom and she tried, but she
said you're a lot better at math than anyone else in this family. Can ya?
Please?"
Tim felt his already stiff boner growing and intensifying. There stood his
little brother, clad only in his briefs again, looking up at him innocently,
holding a math book and scribbler in his left hand. He was the picture of
innocent beauty, the personification of the young prince in the story Tim had
been reading. _Does he have any idea what he's doing to me?_ Tim wondered. _Is
he tryin' to drive me nuts? Or is he so naive he has no idea what his gorgeous
little body does to me? Does he really want help with his math, or does he
want help with something else?_ Tim thought about this morning as they parted.
_We'll talk later,_ he'd said. Was this why he was here?
"C'mon in," Tim said as he opened the door wider, then closed and locked it as
soon as Terry was in the room. Why had he locked the door? Tim didn't really
know, but it seemed like the thing to do. The two boys sat down at Tim's desk
and Terry explained as best he could the problem he was having. All the time
Terry was talking, Tim had an almost debilitating urge to take his beautiful
little brother in his arms and hug the very life out of him, but he somehow
resisted. "Your problem is, you don't understand the basics," Tim said. "We
gotta go back a little and really understand what multiplication is, I mean
what it really means when you multiply two numbers together." He was the big
brother now, all thoughts of sex forgotten for the moment, just helping his
younger sibling with a pretty basic and common problem. It felt really good!
Tim was one of those born teachers, and imparting some knowledge or
understanding to someone was almost as good as sex to Tim.
Almost.
"I understand multiplication," the younger boy defended.
"I don't think so, Ter," Tim explained. "There's a big different between
knowing how to multiply, knowing your multiplication tables, and understanding
what you're doing. Here, let me show you."
"Man, you're so smart!" Terry said an hour later as he threw his arms around
his big brother. Finally, Tim was getting his hug and he enjoyed it more than
words can tell. Finally the lights had come on in the little boy's head, and
they were shining through his gorgeous eyes and bright smile. He understood
now, and he understood something even more profound: that there are many
concepts whose understanding depends upon the knowledge of the principle that
is more basic. He didn't need help with his current assignment now, he could
figure it out using the grounding that he should have received several years
ago but hadn't!
"I'm not that smart," Tim replied. "I guess I just got a better teacher in the
first few grades than you did." He returned the hug, which of course placed
his hands on the naked back of his little brother. He gasped as he suffered
yet another testosterone attack. He felt himself snap back to attention as he
savored the silky smooth, velvet soft, yet hard muscular torso of his brother.
"Time for bed, dude," he whispered huskily, desperately trying to get Terry
out of his locked bedroom before he did something he would forever regret.
"Thanks, man," Terry said as he gathered his things. "You're the greatest big
brother in the world!"
_If you only knew what I'm thinking you might not say that!_ Tim said to
himself as he let Terry out and re-locked the door. He felt really guilty for
the feelings he was having about his brother; but that guilt was not so strong
as to prevent him from trying to think of a way to bring up the subject that
Terry had evidently forgotten. Every day, it seemed to Tim, that little boy
was developing, growing, maturing. And with every step in the long road to
adolescence, he became more beautiful, more irresistible to Tim.
Tim turned back to the computer and brought up the web site he'd started to
view. It was a simple site, with very few graphics or other embellishments to
make it more attractive. As he read the text, his eyes grew wider, his pulse
quickened. This site was showing promise! A LOT of promise! Having visited
several such sites only to be disappointed, Tim looked for the link that would
probably rule this one out as it had done so many times before. Yes, there it
was! _**PREREQUISITES.**_
Almost hyperventilating now, Tim clicked on the word. Another window opened
with a simple heading followed by a list:
**We at the Sanchez Clinic realize that there are many human conditions that
require special considerations. We do our very best to accommodate any and all
who might have been turned away by other clinics. There are however certain
basic requirements each patient must meet. These we keep so a minimum. The
requirements we must insist upon are the following:**
1\. The patient must be in good basic health and be HIV negative. There will
be a blood test and a short medical examination before any treatment or
surgery.
2\. All accounts must be settled in advance in cash or traveler's cheque
before any procedure is begun.
3\. In cases of extreme body modification, we reserve the right to perform a
basic psychological examination prior to surgery. We keep this exam as simple
as possible, usually a simple interview; but we must be assured that the
patient is well informed before proceeding.
4\. The patient must be prepared to remain in or near the clinic until it is
determined that he or she can leave safely. Each case will be evaluated on its
own merits to determine how long a stay will be necessary.
5\. The patient must be at least 14 years of age, unless accompanied by an
adult.
That was it! Tim almost screamed a cheer as he read stipulation 5. Fourteen
unless accompanied by an adult! **FOURTEEN!** This was IT!
Quickly, he noted the email address and typed up a note to the clinic, stating
his needs and the time frame he had in mind. He had checked the web page
carefully for an address or phone number, but there was none; just a simple
email link. No problem, he thought, they were probably acting on the very
fringe of the law and had to be careful. So he was more open and frank than he
had ever been in his life and stated precisely what he wanted. In anticipation
of their very first question, he made sure they understood that he had no
desire to become physically female now or any time in the future. He simply
wanted, needed, his penis amputated.
Next: V A Plan Begins To Form
* * * |
mother's job | STRAIGHT, Other: cbt aand circumcision | A woman interrogator tortures a young man | Mother’s job
She got another call today and they have a new prisoner for
interrogation. She loved her job. It gave the chance to fulfil her
deepest desire and at the same time recognized as an Honored
citizen as her government. Ever since the military regime overtook
the government, there have been a series of arrest made especially
in the universities where the radicalism grew like contagious
disease. The government recruited the help of medical personnel to
help break these radicals. They had information and the government
needed it. When Sarah first applied for the job she was doubtful
she would get it after all the military regime was predominantly
male-oriented regime. However she got her chance with a young
political prisoner and she was told that if she could break him,
she will get the job. The prisoner was naked at her request and
after two hours he was broken. The prisoner never recovered from
her methods and most probably never will. That was history for
Sarah. Nowadays she gets an average of five prisoners per week to
break and she loves every minute of it.
The prisoner was naked when she stepped into the room. He must have
been about twenty-three at most. She wasn’t really sure what
information he could have that was so crucial for national security
but she didn’t care. All she was interested in was the torture. She
loved the look of fear in the prisoner’s eyes when she stepped into
the room. He was feeling very vulnerable, as he was totally naked
and strapped onto a dentist chair. He did not know what to expect
from this elderly woman. She must have been pretty at one time and
today she was just a plain elderly person. He was ashamed to be
naked before but at the same time he was relieved it was a woman.
Somehow his mind rationalized that a woman interrogator was more
compassionate than a man was. Sarah knew exactly what was going
through his mind; it is a common thought in this country of men
brought by women. She slowly approached the chair and had a quick
glance at his genitals. The prisoner was beginning to feel more
self-conscious of his nakedness at this point. She told him that
everything was done for the sake of the country and he had the
power to stop everything right now if he wanted. He just looked
stoically at her without saying a word. Just what she hoped for.
She told him that she would give the same opportunity after an hour.
She took her needle case and approached the prisoner once again.
This time she reached and pinched his right nipple and twisted it.
He screamed in pain and she just smiled and pierced his nipple with
the needle. She did the same to the left nipple. She was getting
warmed up now. She took a pair of pliers and started pulling out
his nails. The boy was screaming to the point of delirium. When she
was done with his tenth finger, she told him that the next part was
her favorite. She took out a scalpel and put it right in front his
face teasing him. He was begging her to stop and have compassion
but his pleas fell on deaf ears. She asked him which part of his
body would he like to be mutilated. He just kept quiet. She looked
at his genitals and asked him when was the last time he
masturbated. He was silent. She gave him three seconds to answer
then she was going to cut off his ears. She counted one and then
reached for his left ear. Immediately he cried three days before he
was arrested. She smiled and asked what was his sexual fantasy, was
young girls or with older women like her. He did not know what to
say but she wasn’t interested in his answer anyway. She looked at
his penis and said that men’s penis are all the same. She wished
that they different then she would cut them up and collect them.
She asked him if his mother ever played his penis. He wasn’t sure
what she was doing to him and he did not know what to say. She
shouted the same question at him and slapped him hard. She had
ripped his lips in the process. He told her no. She laughed and
said that if he was her son, she would play with his penis
everyday. She reached out and took hold of his penis. He was
uncircumcised like most man in his country. She held his penis on
her right hand and stroked it with her scalpel. He was getting
really nervous now and wished that he had just confessed to the
lies that wanted to confess to in the first. Anything was better
than this. She asked him how times he masturbated everyday. He told
her once a week and she screamed liar and slapped him again. She
grabbed his penis and slashed with her scalpel. The boy was filled
terror and pain. He thought she had castrated him. Then he saw the
white line on his penis slowly turning red. It was a flesh wound
but he knew that this woman was crazy enough to do anything. She
asked him the same question once again and he told her everyday and
she laughed once more. She stretched his foreskin and told him that
in some countries women circumcised their sons. As she was saying
this she was stretching his foreskin as far as it could go and then
she looked into his eyes and said that she has decided to adopt him
as her son. With that, she slowly circumcised him. She circumcised
him half way with the scalpel and then completed the procedure by
ripping it off. He was such intense pain that he fainted.
He heard someone shouting and then in a moment he realized that it
wasn’t nightmare but this evil woman was real. She was holding up
something in her finger before his face and after a while he became
clearer, It was his foreskin. She said that he was officially her
son and now she can do what she said she would with her son that is
play with his penis. She reached out once to his newly circumcised
penis and began to masturbate him. He was screaming in pain and
begging her to stop. She just laughed and said that she was just
doing what he does everyday. She was doing him a favor she said.
The pain was unbelievable, he just wanted to die and this woman
wasn’t going to stop until he reaches orgasm. He was hoping that he
would faint but it did not happen. He just cried and begged her to
stop. She kept on masturbating him. She wasn’t going to stop and
she loved seeing him writhed in pain. She loved this job. She loved
seeing them all naked. She loved the fear she instills in them and
she torturing young men. She kept tugging his penis till his hour
came. By that time he had broken out in cold sweats and was able to
make any rational statements.
She quiet cleaned his penis and wiped all the blood off the chairs.
After washing her hands she carefully put his foreskin in a small
container and she was happy to have a new addition to her
collection. She looked at the boy and gave him kiss on his
forehead. She whispered into his ear that she is mummy is looking
forward to playing with him again. When she stepped out of the
room, she told the officers that he would be ready to cooperate
when he gains consciousness. If he doesn’t, just tell his mother
will be back for him. |
Anke (Fortsetzung von "Einschulung") | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES, MINOR | Geschichte über Schwester Anke (bekannt aus der Geschichte "Einschulung") und ihren Feund, der nicht glaubt, wie weit seine Freundin gehen kann und am Ende seine Männlcihkeit verliert... | Ich lernte Anke in der 9. Klasse kennen. Damals war sie mit ihren Eltern in
unsere Stadt gezogen und war an unsere Schule gekommen.
Es war Liebe auf den ersten Blick. Sie war einfach die Göttin. Sie war nicht
gerade groß, höchstens 1.65m, aber ihre langen blonden Haare, die das
niedliche, immer freundliche Gesicht umrahmten, der süße Bußen und die schönen
schlanken Beine. Das war für mich die ideale Frau. Natürlich machte ich mich
sofort an sie ran; wie etwa die Hälfte der gesamten männlichen
Klassenkammeraten. Und ich konnte mein Glück kaum fassen, dass ich ihr
„Auserwählter“ war. Nur manchmal denke ich, währe es für mich besser gewesen,
sie hätte einen Anderen genommen. Wie ich zu dieser Einschätzung komme, nun:
lest selbst...
Als wir mit 16 die Schule beendet hatten, fing jeder von uns seine Lehre an.
Ich als KFZ-Mechatroniker und Anke als Krankenschwester. Sie wurde in einem
größeren Krankenhaus ausgebildet.
Am Anfang lief alles ganz gut. Aber mit der Zeit bemerkte ich, dass sie sich
veränderte. War sie zu Beginn unserer Beziehung beim Sex noch ehr devot, so
nahm sie jetzt immer öfter das Zepter in die Hand. Allerdings konnte ich nicht
behaupten, dass mir das missfallen hätte, ganz im Gegenteil. Es machte mich
echt heiß, wenn sie vor mir stand (ihre makellose weiße Haut schön betont
durch schwarze Spitze, die ihre herrlichen 80C Brüste stützte und ihre süße
enge Grotte bedeckte) und mir Anweisungen erteilte. Und das war nicht die
einzige Veränderung. Immer öfter wollte sie mit mir Rollenspiele veranstalten.
Meist war ich dann der Patient und sie die verruchte kleine Krankenschwester,
die etwas genauer untersuchte.
Eines Abends beim Essen sagte sie dann: „Weißt du, ich soll ab nächste Woche
versetzt werden. Die Leitung vom Krankenhaus will meine jetzige Station
schließen. Ich soll dann auf die Urologie wechseln. Weißt du, was das ist?“
„Urologie,“ fragte ich, „natürlich weiß ich, was Urologie ist. Warum fragst
du?“ „Nun, es macht dir also nichts aus, wenn ich andere Männer an ihren
Genitalien anfasse?“ „Ach was“, sagte ich. „Das hast du doch bislang auch
schon hin und wieder mal gemacht. Wie das, was du letztens erzählt hattest, wo
du den älteren Mann waschen und windeln musstest. Ich habe das vollstes
Vertrauen in dich!“
Zu dem Zeitpunkt wusste ich noch nicht, welche Konsequenzen das für mich haben
würde.
Etwa ein halbes Jahr später kam ich etwas später von der Arbeit heim. Beim
Ölwechsel hatte ich mich von oben bis unten mit der schwarzen Brühe übergossen
und wollte so schnell es geht unter die Dusche. Als ich die Wohnungstür auf
schloss hörte ich schon das Wasserrauschen aus dem Bad. Anke war also auch
schon daheim. Ich freute mich. Unter der Dusche hatten wir es schon lange
nicht mehr getrieben. Ich zog mich also nackt aus und stieg zu ihr unter die
Dusche. Sie wandte mir den Rücken zu. So sah und hörte sie mich nicht kommen
und stieß einen kurzen Schrei aus, als ich ihr von hinten an die Brüste
fasste. „Hey, was machst du denn da“, lächelte sie mich verführerisch an.
„Weißt du“, sagte ich, „du musst im Krankenhaus ja sicher auch immer mal Leute
waschen. Und was du kannst, kann ich schon lange!“ Damit begann ich ihre
großen, herrlich festen Titten zu kneten und zu streicheln. Mit der Zeit
wanderten sie dann immer weiter nach unten. Über ihren schönen flachen Bauch,
die breiten Hüften und weiter hinunter zu ihrem Heiligsten. An ihren
Schamlippen angekommen stutze ich. „Hast du dich da unten etwa rasiert“,
fragte ich verdutzt? Bis her hatte Anke dort immer einen schönen dichten natur
belassenen Busch blonder Haare, der mich jedes Mal bei seinem Anblick verrückt
vor Geilheit werden ließ. Nun war sie da unten völlig kahl. Glatt wie eine
Kinderpussy. Nicht einmal einen schmalen Streifen war noch da. „Gefällt es dir
nicht Schatz“, fragte sie? „Nun, eigentlich fand ich dein Dreieck immer sehr
schön. Es ist schon ein bisschen schade, dass du das Abrasiert hast. Warum
hast du das gemacht?“ „Ach, ich hatte halt Lust drauf“, war ihre knappe
Antwort. Wenige Tage später war ich zu einem Freud zum Geburtstag eingeladen.
Anke konnte dieses „Macho Arschloch“ wie sie ihn nannte nicht besonders gut
leiden und bat mich sie zu entschuldigen. Auf dem Weg wollte ich noch schnell
tanken. Erst an der Tankstelle bemerkte ich, dass ich meine Brieftasche
zuhause vergessen hatte. Also erstmal rein an die Kasse und das Problem
klären. Leider erwies sich der Kassierer als nicht besonders
kooperationsbereit, weshalb eine längere Diskussion folgte. Er drohte mir an
die Polizei zu holen, sollte ich das Auto noch einen Meter bewegen. So blieb
mir nichts übrig, als nach hause zu laufen und meine Geldbörse zu holen. Zum
Glück war es nicht sehr weit, aber es dauerte trotzdem eine gute halbe Stunde,
bis ich endlich da war. Eigentlich wollte ich ja nur schnell meine Brieftasche
holen und wieder verschwinden, ich war eh schon spät dran, aber da hörte ich
auf einmal Geräusche aus dem Schlafzimmer. Vorsichtig näherte ich mich der
Tür. Sie war nur leicht angelehnt, weshalb ich einen guten Blick auf die Szene
vor mir hatte. Anke lag völlig nackt auf dem Bett und rieb sich wie in Extase
ihre Brüste. Zwischen ihren Beinen saß eine Frau, ebenfalls nackt, ungefähr so
alt wie Anke und leckte ihre Muschi. Ich konnte nicht glauben, was ich da sah.
Meine Anke, die ich nun seit Jahren kannte, mit der ihr heftigen, geilen Sex
hatte war eine Lesbe?! Völlig schockiert lief ich zurück zur Tankstelle. Was
sollte ich machen? Auf die Party hatte ich keine Lust mehr. Aber nach hause?
Da wollte ich eigentlich auch nicht hin. Also doch auf zur Feier.
Als ich spät abends (oder besser gesagt zeitig Früh) nach hause kam schaute
ich vorsichtig ins Schlafzimmer. Anke lag da, als sei nicht passiert. Ich
wusste nicht, wie ich mit dem gesehenen umgehen sollte. Das klingeln des
Weckers riss mich aus meinen Gedanken. Richtig, Anke musste ja heute in die
Klinik. Ich verschwand schnell aus der Wohnung um ihr aus dem Weg zu gehen.
Auf einem höheren Treppenabsatz wartete ich, bis sie die Wohnung verlassen
hatte und legte mich dann schlafen.
Als sie nachmittags heim kam lächelte sie mich an, als sei nichts gewesen. „Na
Schatz, ist ja auf deiner Party ganz schön spät geworden. Hab dich ja nicht
mal heute früh gesehen.“ „Ja, war ganz ok dort“, sagte ich, um einen
unauffälligen Ton bemüht. Anke setzte sich zu mir und sah mir in die Augen.
„Du, ich muss dir mal was erzählen. Aber bitte denk nicht fasch von mir, wenn
du jetzt hörst was ich zu sagen habe!“ Ich dachte nur: „Jetzt kommts. Da
machst du dir Gedanken wie du sie auf das Thema ansprichst und nun kommt sie
von selbst mit der Sprache raus!“ „Weißt du“, setzte sie an, „wir spielen ja
schon lange solche Rollenspiele im Bett. Aber gestern in der Klinik ist etwas
vorgefallen, was ich bisher noch nicht hatte, was mich aber absolut geil
gemacht hat. Und ich dachte mir, so etwas in unsere Spiele mal mit einzubauen,
wollte aber ich wollte halt vorher noch mal mit dir darüber reden.“ Was meinte
sie? Was sollte in der Klinik passiert sein, was sie in unsere Rollenspiele
mit übernehmen wolle? Ich dachte, sie wollte mit mir über den letzten Abend
sprechen. „Auf einer urologischen Station passiert halt hin und wieder mal
etwas, was mich z. T. auch richtig geil werden lässt, verstehst du? Und
gestern war so ein Fall. Ein Mann, nicht viel älter als du wurde eingeliefert,
weil er Symptome eines Hodenkrebses zeigte. Wir bereiteten also alles für den
OP. In der OP schnitt der Arzt dann den Hodensack des Patienten auf und führte
an jedem Hoden eine Biopsie durch. Das Gutachten ließ dann nicht lange auf
sich warten. Krebs an beiden Hoden. Keine halbe Stunde später hatte der Arzt
dann beide Hoden amputiert. Das war das erste Mal, dass ich eine Orchiektomie
mit erlebt habe und dann gleich eine komplette. Es war so geil! Mir und
Simone, das ist eine Kollegin und sehr gute Freundin von mir lief der Saft in
Strömen aus unseren heißen Fotzen.“ „Orchiektomie“, fragte ich?! „Ja, im
Volksmund sagt man einfach Kastration“, erklärte sie. „Wie gesagt, ich bin
dabei so geil geworden. Was meinst du? Könnten wir das nicht einmal in einem
unserer Rollenspiele mit machen?“ Ich wusste nicht so recht darauf zu
antworten. Aber sie ließ mir kaum Zeit zum Überlegen. „Komm, das machen wir
jetzt! Ich geh ins Schlafzimmer und in fünf Minuten klopfst du an, kommst rein
und sagst, dass du Beschwerden mit den Hoden hast. Keine Angst, den Rest mach
ich dann schon!“
Und schon war sie verschwunden. Obwohl ich keinen Deut schlauer war, beschloss
ich mit zu spielen. Ich klopfte also nach fünf Minuten an der Tür an und wurde
herein gerufen. „Schönen guten Tag“, sagte Anke, welche in ihrem kurzen
Schwesternkittel, den sie bei unseren Spielen häufig trug an hatte. „Was kann
ich denn für sie tun?“ „Nun, ich habe in der letzten Zeit Probleme mit den
Hoden“, spielte ich das spiel mit. „Na dann, ziehen sie sich mal aus und wir
schauen mal nach, was das sein könnte.“ Ich musste mich also nackt auf das
Bett legen und wurde von ihr mit Händen und Füßen an die Ecken des Bettes
gefesselt. „Reine Vorsichtsmaßnahme“, sagte sie. Und schon begann sie meine
Hoden ab zu tasten. Nach kurzer Zeit sagte sie dann: „Ich fürchte sie haben
Krebs an beiden Keimdrüsen. Um das genauer zu beurteilen muss ich eine Biopsie
machen.“ Sie nahm einen bereit liegenden Bleistift und stach ihn mir in die
Hoden, bis ich vor Schmerz schrie. Da selbe noch einmal bei meinem anderen
Hoden. Sie tat dann etwas beschäftigt und kam nach kurzer Zeit wieder zu mir.
„Wie ich es mir gedacht hatte! Sie haben Krebs. Ich muss die Hoden sofort
amputieren!“ Als sie das sagte, wurde mein kleiner Freund sofort steif.
Irgendwie machte mich die Vorstellung richtig an. Anke zog sich
Behandlungshandschuhe aus Latex über und kam auf mich zu. „Bevor wir sie nun
kastrieren werden wir noch eine letzte Spermaprobe von ihnen nehmen.“ Damit
fing sie an meinen Schwanz mit den Latex behandschuhten Händen zu wichsen. Ein
geiles Gefühl. Als nach kurzer Zeit noch nichts kam stieg sie dann über mich
und fing an mich zu reiten. Dabei befingerte sie meine Hoden die Ganze Zeit
mit ihren Handschuhen. Als sie dann plötzlich beide Hoden in die Hand nahm und
straff vom Körper weg zog gab es für mich kein Halten mehr! Mit Druck spritzte
ich ihr meine Ladung in ihre heiße nasse Fotze. Dabei kam auch sie zu einem
Orgasmus, der gar kein Ende mehr nehmen wollte. Erschöpft lagen wir neben
einander im Bett. „Und, war das nicht extrem geil“, fragte sie mich? „Es war
schon nicht schlecht“, gab ich zu. „Wenn du willst, können wir das ruhig öfter
machen.“ Anke freute sich sehr dass ich so darüber dachte und blies mir dafür
noch extra einen, obwohl sie das wirklich nicht gerne machte.
So ging es ein ganze Zeit lang. Natürlich hatten wir auch noch andere
Rollenspiele, aber das war immer das geilste.
Als Anke dann ihre Ausbildung beendet hatte, bekam sie eine Anstellung als
Schulkrankenschwester. Schon am ersten Tag kam sie völlig aufgeregt nach
hause. „Du glaubst gar nicht, was für eine super Stelle ich da gefunden habe!
Die Kastrieren dort alle Jungs, die neu kommen. Allein heute, an meinem ersten
Tag haben wir elf Jungen die Hoden abgeschnitten. Die waren alle erst zehn
Jahre alt. Du kannst dir nicht vorstellen, wie geil das ist, solche kleine
Kindereier in den Händen zu halten und vorher noch gesehen zu haben, wie sie
ab gemacht wurden!“ Während sie noch redete hatte sie schon angefangen sich
und mich auszuziehen. Auf dem Weg ins Schlafzimmer meinte sie noch: „Leider
werden die Sachen bei so einer Operation sehr schnell blutig und OP-Kittel wie
im Krankenhaus bekommen wir nicht bezahlt. Da muss ich mit der Ärztin noch
eine Lösung erarbeiten. Sie hatte schon vorgeschlagen, dass wir, wenn mir
nichts aus machen würde, die Kastrationen nackt durchführen könnten.“ Das
ganze Gerede machte mich richtig heiß. Nur zu gut konnte ich mir Anke und eine
scharfe Ärztin vorstellen, wie sie kleinen Jungen die Bällchen absäbelten. An
diesem Abend kam ich so heftig wie schon lange nicht mehr.
So ging wieder einige Zeit ins Land. Eines Abends, wir standen unter der
Dusche und seiften uns gegenseitig ein, meinte Anke beim Griff nach meinen
Hoden: „Weißt du, wie süß und niedlich die Jungs an meiner Schule aussehen?!
So schön glatt zwischen den Beinen. Nichts, was da irgendwie störend
rumbaumeln würde. Nur die leckeren kleinen Schwänzchen. Na gut, einige Eltern
lassen auch Hodenprothesen einsetzten, aber die Meisten lassen auch den Sack
gleich mit entfernen. Das sieht so zum Anbeißen aus. So etwas könnte ich mir
bei dir auch vorstellen. Was Schatz, du als mein persönlicher kleiner
Schüler!? Schade das wir nicht zusammen auf dieser Schule waren, ich hätte
dich so gerne mal auf solch seltene Art verschönert gesehen.“ So wie sie das
sagte klang das sau geil. Ich bekam schon wieder einen Steifen. „Na die
Vorstellung scheint dir ja auch zu gefallen“, lächelte Anke mich an.
Danach hatten wir wieder richtig heftigen und versauten Sex. Die Vorstellung
kastriert zu werden hatte tatsächlich seinen Reiz. Zumindest in den
Rollenspielen, die wir jetzt immer häufiger machten.
Nach einigen Monaten bat Anke mich eines Tages, sie von der Schule ab zu
holen. Ihr Auto musste in die Werkstatt und mit dem Bus wollte sie nicht
fahren. Das war kein Problem, da wir etwa zeitgleich Feierabend hatten. Sie
würde nur die halbe Stunde warten müssen, die ich von meiner Arbeit bis zu ihr
brauchen würde.
An der Schule angekommen machte ich mich gleich auf die Suche nach dem
Arztzimmer und fand es auch schnell. Nur war im Behandlungsraum niemand?!
„Anke, bist du hier“, rief ich. „Ich bin hier im Nachbarzimmer“, rief sie
zurück. Ich ging also auf die Tür zu, hinter der ich ihre Stimme gehört hatte
und trat ein. Tatsächlich war sie hier und reinigte einige medizinische
Instrumente – vollkommen nackt! „Entschuldige Schatz, aber wir haben kurz vor
Feierabend noch einen Jungen zur Kastration bekommen. Wegen der blöden
Hodenprothesen passiert es immer wieder mal, dass uns einer durch rutscht,
weil er behauptet, schon kastriert zu sein. Den haben wir nur bemerkt, weil er
durch ein Mädchen in die Eier getreten bekam.“ Das interessierte mich
allerdings gerade recht wenig. Mein Blick galt einzig ihrem Körper. Und schon
hatte ich wieder einen mächtigen Ständer. Natürlich bemerkte Anke die Beule in
meiner Hose. „Was denn, so ungeduldig? Nun, wir sind hier völlig allein, also
wenn du Lust hast?!“ Dabei sah sie mich schon wieder mit so einem Blick an,
dem kein Mann widerstehen kann. Was hatte ich nur für eine kleine geile
Freundin! Schnell hatte ich mich all meiner Sachen entledigt und ich weiß
nicht, ob es Zufall war, dass sie sich gerade bückte, oder ob sie es mit
Absicht machte, auf jeden Fall fand mein Schwanz schnell sein Ziel und ich
nahm sie von hinten. „Huch, nicht so stürmisch mein großer. Schau mal dort. Da
hinten steht sein Behandlungsstuhl. Setzt dich mal da rein und du bekommst von
mir die geilste Erfahrung deines Lebens!“ Ich drehte mich um. Tatsächlich
stand dort ein gynäkologischer Stuhl, den ich noch gar nicht gesehen hatte. In
Erwartung des Kommenden legte ich mich natürlich sofort hinein. Es war ein
merkwürdiges Gefühl. Dadurch, dass die Beinstützen so weit aus einander waren,
waren meine Genitalien sehr gut zugänglich. Ich stellte mir vor, wie die
kleinen Jungen hier drin saßen und zusehen mussten, wie ihnen die Eier
abgeschnitten wurden.
Endlich war Anke mit ihrer Arbeit fertig und kam zu mir. Dabei ließ sie ihr
Becken verführerisch kreisen. Mein Schwanz wurde noch härter. Wortlos begann
sie meine Hände mit Lederriemen straff an den Stuhl zu fesseln. Meinem
fragenden Blick erwiderte sie: „Das kennst du doch schon. Machen wir zuhause
doch auch. Jetzt wird der Schüler kastriert!“ Wie geil dachte ich. Durch die
Umgebung und den Stuhl bekam unser Rollenspiel ein ganz neue Dimension. Als
Anke mit dem Anlegen der Lederriemen fertig war rief sie: „Simone, ich bin
fertig, du kannst jetzt rein kommen!“ Völlig verstört sah ich mich um. Wer?
Was? Da sah ich auch schon eine Frau, die offenbar Simone war. Wie Anke völlig
nackt. Gegenüber Simone war sie noch üppiger bestückt. Mindestens
Körbchengröße DD! Aber dafür hatte sie auch einen kleinen Bauch. So dich wie
ihre Brüste waren auch ihre Schamlippen. Aber trotzdem noch sehr sexy
anzuschauen. Betont wurden diese durch einen kleinen Alibistreifen braunen
Schamhaares. Ich sah genauer hin. Das war doch die, die ich mit Anke zusammen
im Bett gehen hatte! Ich hatte zwar damals ihr Gesicht nicht gesehen, aber ich
war mir trotzdem zu hundert Prozent sicher! „Anke, was soll das? Was macht die
Lesbe hier“, schrie ich? „Lesbe?“ Anke war sichtlich irritiert von meinem
letzten Kommentar. „Ach tu nicht so“, rief ich, „ich hab euch zwei damals
genau gesehen! Ich hab gesehen, wie sie dir deine Fotze geleckt hat, während
du dir die Titten massiert hast!“ „Ach das meint er“, mischte sich Simone ein.
„Weißt du mein Schatz“, sagte Anke, „ich war damals nach dieser Kastration, du
weißt ja, es war meine Erste, so geil, dass ich es mir im Schwesternzimmer
hinterher sofort selbst machen musste. Da kam dann auf einmal Simone rein und
hat mich erwischt. Ich hätte nie gedacht, dass ich Gefühle für eine andere
Frau haben könnte, aber Simone hat mir gezeigt, wie der Sex mit einer Frau ist
und ich fand es einfach herrlich. Das du das sehen musstest tut mir leid. Ich
dachte, ich könnte meine bisexuelle Ader vor dir geheim halten. Aber ab heute
wird alles anders! Glaub mir. Was jetzt passiert, wird das Bester für uns alle
sein. Wir beide können zusammen bleiben. Simone kann dann auch mit da bleiben
und wir führen dann zu dritt ein schönes Leben!“ Ich konnte Anke nicht ganz
folgen. Sollte Simone mit bei uns einziehen? „Was hast du vor“, fragte ich
Anke? „Das wiest du gleich sehen“, antwortet statt Anke Simone! Anke sah mich
mitleidig an. „Ich werde jetzt mit dir das machen, was ich sonst mit den Buben
mache, die sonst hier in dem Stuhl liegen. Hab keine Angst, es dauert nicht
lang. Wir haben zwar leider kein Betäubungsmittel, aber wenn das die Kinder
aushalten, dann wirst du das auch schaffen. Mach dir keine Sorgen. Das ist
eine ganz kleine Geschichte. Du wirst es gar nicht spüren, dass wir dir die
Eier abschneiden, so schnell wird das gehen!“
Ich konnte nicht glauben, was hier vor sich ging. Auf einmal wurde aus unseren
Rollenspielen Ernst. Und so geil ich auch bei der VORSTELLUNG meiner
Kastration war, so wenig wollte ich meine Hoden tatsächlich verlieren! Da sah
ich, wie Anke einen Skalpell von einem kleinen Beistelltischen nahm, das ich
bis dahin gar nicht wahr genommen hatte. Gleichzeitig bestich Simone meine
Genitalien mit einer braunen Flüssigkeit. „Keine Angst, das ist nur Jod. Wir
wollen doch nicht, dass sich die Wunde später entzündet und wir noch mehr
abschneiden müssen“, sagte Simone. Dann ging es los. „Anke, ich bitte dich,
nimm das Messer weg! Ich akzeptiere doch deine Neigung! Du kannst so viele
Frauen haben wie du willst, aber lass mir meine Hoden! Bitte, ich...“ Weiter
kam ich nicht, denn ein irrsinniger Schmerz zerriss meinen Unterleib.
Ungeachtet meiner Worte hatte Anke meinen Hodensack der Länge nach
aufgeschnitten. „Schrei nicht so rum Großer“, meinte Simone. „Du bist doch ein
Mann und kein Memme; na ja, zumindest noch! Du brauchst auch gar keine Angst
haben, deine Anke hat das schon so oft gesehen und auch schon oft selber
gemacht, da kann nichts schief gehen.“
Es war mir herzlich egal was diese Simone neben mir sagte. Die Schmerzen
sprachen eine andere Sprache! „Anke“, rief ich, „bitte mein Liebling, hör
jetzt auf, ich ertrag das nicht mehr! Ich mach wirklich alles was du willst,
aber lass meine Eier ganz!“ Aber es half nichts. Der Einzige Kommentar war:
„Los Simone, Steck ihm den Knebel in den Mund. Ich brauche meine Ruhe beim
Schneiden!“ „Ich verstehe nicht, warum du für ich keinen Elastrator nimmst.
Bei meinem Bruder hat das hervorragend funktioniert!“ „Ich will es aber
richtig machen, so wie ich es gelernt habe und hier an der Schule häufig
praktiziere“, entgegnete Anke. Mir war das herzlich egal, aber ich hatte keine
Wahl. Während ich von Simone einen Knebel verpasst bekam, musste ich zusehen,
wie Anke meine beiden Hoden aus dem Sack heraus holte. Das Ganze war etwas
surreal. Plötzlich hatte ich keine Schmerzen mehr. Dafür lief alles um mich
herum ab wie in Zeitlupe. Auch die Geräusche um mich herum waren plötzlich
verzerrt, so dass ich der Unterhaltung zwischen Anke und Simone letzten Endes
nicht mehr folgen konnte. Ich sah nur noch, wie Simone einen meiner Hoden in
den Händen hielt. Anke machte einen Schnitt und zog so etwas wie eine
Schutzhaut ab und hatte nun meinen eigentlichen Hoden in der Hand. Ihre
Finger, die sie in die selben Handschuhe gehüllt hatte, wie bei unseren
Spielchen, waren Blut überzogen. Ich sah, wie sie den Strang, der zu dem Hoden
führte fest mit einer Schnur ab band. Dann war es so weit. Mit einer Schere
kappte sie die Versorgung meines ersten Hodens. Ich wollte Schreien: „Anke,
hör auf, bitte, lass mir wenigstens den einen Hoden!“ Aber es half nichts. Der
Knebel machte jedes Wort zu unverständlich. Ich musste mit ansehen, wie Anke
mit Hilfe von Simone auch meinen zweiten Hoden frei legte und ab schnitt. Bei
dem Anblick, wie die sich die Schere eine Weg durch den Versorgungsstrang
meines Hodens bahnte schossen mir die Tränen in die Augen. Sie machte es
wirklich! Sie kastrierte mich. Was bisher immer nur ein geiles Spiel gewesen
war, war auf einmal traurige Realität geworden. Dann musste ich mit ansehen,
wie sie mir mit einer Schere den Rest meines Hodensacks abtrennte. Ich konnte
es nicht fassen. Ich wollte schreien: „Anke, wie kannst du mir da antun? Bitte
lass mir wenigstens meinen Sack!“ Aber ich konnte nicht. Das letzte an das ich
mich erinnern konnte, war wie sie mir den Rest Haut vernähte.
Die nächste Zeit war sehr schwer für mich. Simone wohnte nun mit bei uns.
Während ich im Schlafzimmer darauf wartete, dass die Schmerzen in meinem
Unterleib endlich nach ließen, hörte ich das geile Stöhnen der beiden Frauen
aus der Wohnstube. Besonders einschneidend war für mich, dass ich keine
Erektion mehr bekommen konnte.
Dennoch fand ich mich mit der Zeit damit ab. Was sollte ich auch sonst machen?
Dann passierte etwas unvorhergesehenes. Durch Einsparungen wurde das Personal
an der Klinik, an der Simone noch immer arbeitet drastisch reduziert und
Simone war eine der Schwestern, die entlassen wurden. Ihre neue Arbeitsstelle
lag hunderte Kilometer weit weg und sie musste ausziehen. Das schmerzte vor
allem Anke sehr. Aber schon weinig später, es waren vielleicht drei Monate
vergangen, stellte sie mir eine neue Gespielin vor. Ein noch junges Mädchen
von höchstens 15 Jahren. Anke sagte, sie hieße Hanna und sie würden sich von
der Schule her kennen. Was es mit Hanna tatsächlich auf sich hatte wusste ich
natürlich nicht.
Wie immer freue ich mich über eure Kritik...
* * * |
The Traitor's Son 24 | GAY, WARNING, TESTICLES, MINOR | Herewith are the next chapters of the saga of Marius, son of the traitor, Sejanus. The story is by Zelamir but has been adapted, with the author’s permission and oversight, for eunuch.org by Pueros. | THE TRAITOR’S SON
By Zelamir, adapted by Pueros
Chapter 24
Marius’ relative comfort in Scyrax’s lap was not, of course, in anyway related
to any liking for or trust of the fat man and nor was his weariness the main
cause. The boy was instead simply becoming more inured to his humiliating
situation, which included his continued shameful nudity and the regular
intimate manhandling of his most private parts.
Marius’ slumber was eventually interrupted when Scyrax decided that he could
not delay his usual midday meeting with his secretary for long. In Roman
society, the holder of such a position was always masculine and often a slave.
The fat man’s household was not an exception and, in fact, possessed no
feminine staff at all.
Scyrax disliked females. His only liking was for young and pretty males, in
respect of whom, as well as enjoying sexually, he also derived immense
pleasure from occasionally hurting, either emotionally or physically.
There was one notable exception to Scyrax’s love/hate relationship with young
and pretty males. There was a highly attractive homosexual youth of patrician
background, whom he adored and was infatuated with. The fat man would never
want to harm a hair on the boy’s lovely head and, in fact, would instead do
virtually anything to make him happy.
Unfortunately, the youth’s highly attractive looks were not matched by his
character. He was a hateful sadist, who especially relished in seeing other
boys suffer, particularly if he was the cause of their pain.
The youth did not even like Scyrax. However, he kept this emotion well hidden
because the fat man, in return for his company and occasional sex, which the
boy deliberately teasingly rationed to help boost his obese paramour’s clear
obsession, provided him with money and entertainment.
The youth needed the money because his family, despite being of patrician
status, had fallen on hard times as a result of unwise investments. His
sadistic homosexual tastes were also well served by Scyrax’s trade in buying
and selling particularly beautiful slaveboys.
Most of this boy merchandise was only in Scyrax’s ownership briefly. However,
the youth rather liked such a turnover, as there were always fresh gorgeous
young bodies to play with, humiliate and hurt, although he did not just
restrict himself to the fat man’s newest purchases, as Dictys had regularly
discovered to his cost.
The youth visited Scyrax’s home virtually daily, usually to dine in the
evening, when he would pick up his pocket-money and be entertained by some of
the fat man’s boys. Unfortunately for Marius, the young patrician was to adopt
a particularly sadistic affection for the merchant’s latest exceptionally
beautiful purchase.
Perhaps fortunately for Marius’ current damaged emotions, the boy remained
unaware of the youth’s existence and nature when he was now awoken, still in
Scyrax’s lap, after the fat merchant began to address his secretary, whom he
had finally summoned. The assistant was a plump young man named Felix, whose
soft chubby face and high voice betrayed his emasculated condition.
The bulk of Scyrax’s adult staff were eunuchs, who would, by virtue of having
no balls, be no sexual danger to the beautiful boys in whom he traded. The fat
man wanted to restrict any molestation of their gorgeous forms whilst present
in his home to himself and his beloved young patrician, and even they
generally allowed the rare virgins to retain their purity because of the
substantially increased auction value such an unusual but prized attribute
earned.
The secretary made his report. He subsequently took notes of his master’s
instructions and introduced visitors, who had been waiting patiently in the
atrium for an audience with their wealthy patron. The clients included
military officers and government bureaucrats on their way to accept or return
to positions in the provinces. Once there, they would seek to boost their
state income by lucratively trading in human flesh.
Also seeking an audience with Scyrax was a particularly disreputable ship’s
captain. He often resorted to piracy and kidnap in order to secure required
goods.
Marius, still sitting naked in Scyrax’s lap, was witness to all of these
audiences and was amazed at the extent of the fat man’s contacts and his
consequent reach in terms of the territories from which he secured boys.
Meanwhile, as the intrigued 11 year-old watched and listened quietly, he was
ogled by the visitors, all of whose expressions appeared to indicate that they
liked what they were viewing.
Marius now made no effort to cover his cute genitals from the sight of the
visitors, as he did not want his knuckles rapped again. However, avoidance of
the rather natural instinct to hide his shame was not helped when his little
cock perversely reacted to the ogling by becoming hard and maintaining its
humiliating rigidity until after the last client had gone, helped to do so by
occasional resumed fondling by Scyrax.
When the final visitor had left after several hours of meetings and the
penultimate secretarial report had been considered, Scyrax turned his
attention to domestic matters. However, even here, private and business
interests overlapped, as his own household served as a training ground for his
choice merchandise before they were sent to take their turn on the auction
block.
In reaction to an instruction from Scyrax, the secretary consulted a fresh
clay tablet, whilst an eager smirk formed on his plump face, as what was
imminent was the part of the daily routine that he most enjoyed. Being a
eunuch, he envied and hated the beautiful boys that formed the bulk of his
master’s household, especially their still whole genitalia. He, like most of
the other adult gelded servants, therefore enjoyed seeing them suffer and
hoped that most were eventually castrated after finally being auctioned.
“You seem to have a full list, Felix,” Scyrax remarked. He did not sound as if
he was displeased with the fact.
“A very full list, Sir,” affirmed Felix in his high effeminate voice. The
secretary subsequently giggled excitedly.
As Scyrax and Felix spoke, the four adult servants, who were all eunuchs and
had earlier brought and subsequently taken away the bath, reappeared, this
time carrying buckets of fine sand, which they began to spread evenly over the
marble paving stones of the courtyard. After they had finished and departed, a
great gong sounded deep in the house, followed by the noise of many lightly
scampering bare feet.
Boys of varying ages subsequently began to file into the large courtyard. The
youngest were attired only in minuscule thongs, whilst those in the middle age
range sported tiny loincloths and the oldest were covered by the briefest of
tunics. All of the garments were white and tight, and all of wearers were
exceptionally beautiful.
As each boy entered the courtyard, they knelt briefly before Scyrax and
pressed their lips to a small round golden plaque imbedded in the marble
paving stone immediately in front of his couch, from where the bath had
earlier been removed whilst Marius dozed. An erect phallus was engraved into
the precious metal.
The boys subsequently scuttled off to take their place in the swelling ranks
of their fellows, sitting cross-legged at a respectful distance from where
their master sat on his couch. The fat man happily observed the scene, with a
grin playing on his lips, whilst the smirking Felix stood beside him, with his
eyes glinting in excited anticipation. However, there were no smiles on the
faces of the gathering young males, who, as their owner had advised Crastus
earlier, amounted to about forty in number.
The adult servants again reappeared and on this occasion pulled forward a low
wooden bench and set it on the sanded floor before stepping aside to watch the
fun from the edges of the courtyard. Dictys, who had been allowed to redress
and leave whilst Marius was dozing, also arrived, carrying a great pot in
which about a dozen canes were sinisterly soaking in brine.
Dictys placed the pot at one side of the bench. The youth subsequently knelt
and kissed the ground in front of Scyrax too before taking up position
adjacent to the container that he had brought.
The gigantic black African servant, who was also a eunuch, albeit one who,
unlike the others in the household, did not exhibit any effeminacy but rather
the opposite, next strode in, with a heavy whip clasped in his right hand. As
he bowed to Scyrax, a susurration of in-drawn breath, representing an
involuntary murmur of terror, rose from the huddled crowd of boys.
Scyrax waited momentarily until complete silence, apart from the tinkling
waters of the fountains in the courtyard, had finally descended before
speaking. “First,” the fat man then announced, “we have a new addition to our
family!”
Scyrax spoke hardly above a whisper. However, the acoustics of the courtyard
were good and his every word could be clearly heard by all.
“He is called Mariullus,” Scyrax advised, whilst picking the boy in his lap up
and standing him on the floor. “He will live in this house,” the fat man
added, “and serve here until he is ready to be sold.”
Marius immediately blushed but not because of what Scyrax had just said. The
boy was instead very embarrassed to be the only person present who was
completely naked. However, recalling the fat man’s earlier instructions and
the painful rap of the rod on his knuckles, he made no effort to hide his
exposed genitals, to where tingling sensations now returned. The 11 year-old
associated this phenomenon with the fact that many of the spectators of all
ages were clearly ogling his nude body with apparent interest and even
admiration.
“Dictys, take Mariullus and show him where to sit amongst his fellows,” Scyrax
subsequently commanded. The youth obediently stepped forward and, taking the
naked child gently by the hand, led him over to the front rank of boys.
Marius, still weary, stumbled after him. The boys in the front rank then
shuffled sideways and made just enough room for him to sit cross-legged
amongst them.
Scyrax waited until Marius was settled and Dictys had returned to his post
before he spoke again. The fat man subsequently addressed his young audience
with continued quietness. However, there was now a more menacing tone to his
voice.
“I speak of us as a family,” Scyrax declared in his usual preamble to this
daily ritual, which everyone present except Marius had heard before, “and you
as my children because that is what we are. While you live here, I am your
father, for you have no other in this world.”
“As your father,” Scyrax continued, “I look after you and part of the care
that I afford you sadly has to be to chastise you whenever you are bad.
Disobeying a parent’s instructions and rules is naughty and, in respect of me,
is doubly so because I am your master too.”
“I, out of the goodness of my heart have bought you at great expense,” Scyrax
preached on, “and taken you into my household to serve me and prepare you for
resale but too often my kindness is met with insolent ingratitude. Instead of
working hard to please me, you are often lazy and disobedient. However, as is
the way with a good father, I do not disown you at once for such attitudes but
attempt instead to correct your faults and teach you the error of your ways.”
“I can see that Felix has a tablet full of names of boys,” Scyrax informed,
“who have failed me since this time yesterday. This situation greatly saddens
me because all of you are fortunate. You are lucky to be in the ownership of
so kind a master as I. Those of you destined for the slave market should be
especially grateful to be trained in my household for you will realise a good
price at auction and therefore be valued by your purchasers. However, some of
you are still lazy or disobedient. Such brats should remember that my patience
is not unlimited. If I find any one of you so sunk in indolence and mischief
that you will never profit from my efforts to improve him, then he will be
sent away to be sold but not to decent people.”
“Such idle and unruly brats,” Scyrax rambled on, “don’t deserve good homes. I
shall instead ensure that they are sold to labour in fields, quarries or
mines, and so be condemned to a living death of constant hard toil!”
Scyrax paused again to allow the full ominous weight of the threatening words
of his usual sermon to be felt. The fat man was happy to observe that all of
the normally extremely beautiful faces in his young audience bore suitably
miserable expressions.
Some of the youngest boys were already quietly snivelling in anticipation of
what they knew was now to come. Scyrax initiated these proceedings by again
heaving himself up from his couch.
Knowing that every movement of his was watched with dread by his youthful
audience, Scyrax subsequently walked slowly across to where Dictys had placed
the pot containing the canes beside the punishment bench. The fat man then
selected one of the sinister implements and lifted it out of the container.
Scyrax deliberately weighed the cane in his hand and menacingly swung it
experimentally, making the supple rod sing in the air. A shudder ran through
the rows of boys.
“Felix, who is the first offender?” Scyrax next asked in the mildest and
quietest of voices. “Sulis, Sir,” the secretary joyously answered.
“Sulis, come here,” Scyrax therefore growled. A nicely round-bottomed 10 year-
old boy, wearing only a minuscule white thong, immediately rose from the front
rank of young slaves and stumbled reluctantly forward.
Sulis moved stiffly. His arms and legs, indeed his whole body, appeared to
have lost co-ordination.
Sulis’ normally very pretty face was also twisted in such a grotesque
expression of misery and terror that Scyrax almost laughed out loud, whilst a
flash of white crossed the black African’s dark face as he revealed his teeth
in a broad grin. The boy eventually respectfully dropped to his knees before
his master and dutifully pressed his lips to the golden plaque, simultaneously
elevating his curvaceous bare bottom invitingly in the air
“Felix, tell me what has this brat been up to,” Scyrax next enquired, whilst
looking down at the boy at his feet and with his voice shaking with hardly
suppressed amusement. “He showed a lack of respect to the household gods,” the
secretary announced, “and the images of the Divine Emperors Augustus and
Tiberius, Sir, by not bowing to their effigies when he passed their
sanctuary.”
“Failed to make obeisance to the household gods and our beloved divine
Emperors,” Scyrax squeaked in feigned disgust, “but that’s both impiety and
treachery. Does the profane brat not know that our mutual prosperity depends
on a proper respectful observance of all rites?”
“He must know Sir,” Felix replied. “However,” he cruelly falsely added, “it
would seem that he does not care!”
“Well,” Scyrax responded, “we’ll have to make him care. However, I am a fair
man and before I flog a boy I always give him an opportunity to tell his
version of events. Well, Sulis, what therefore have to say for yourself? Speak
up you miserable little profane brat!”
Sulis raised his now tearstained face from the sand-covered marble paving. His
rosy lips then tremulously moved but no sound emerged, as utter terror had
robbed him of speech.
In annoyed reaction, because he disliked cowardice almost as much as he hated
displays of courage, Scyrax lashed his cane diagonally across Sulis’ bare
chest. A deep red bead of blood began to form where the tip of the supple rod,
which had curled round the boy’s ribcage, had nicked his skin.
Sulis immediately howled and clasped his hands to his tortured flesh. “Don’t
you know better than to raise your arms when I’m thrashing you, brat?” Scyrax
was therefore compelled to ask rhetorically whilst now in a sudden cold fury.
“Put your arms down by your sides and keep them there,” Scyrax also commanded,
whilst again ominously raising his cane above his left shoulder. The fat man
then momentarily stood with the rod poised to strike, whilst he looked down at
the almost naked boy, cowering tearfully at his feet, reluctantly obey his
order.
Sulis’ anguish and terror at perhaps imminently being beaten for the first
time ever in his young life caused him to lose control of his bladder. Amber
fluid began to soil his thong before spilling from the edges and running down
the insides of his legs to create a dark patch of dampness on the newly spread
sand below. “Filthy little animal,” Scyrax remarked in reaction to the sight.
Scyrax also reacted by again slashing his cane viciously across Sulis’ chest.
On this occasion, the tip of the rod agonisingly caught the boy across the
edge of his right nipple, splitting the flesh.
Sulis’ mouth again first opened silently, this time because his excruciation
had temporarily driven the breath from his body. The boy then screamed shrilly
but somehow also managed to keep his arms at his sides.
“That’s better,” a calming Scyrax suggested softly on observing Sulis’
continued obedience, “and obviously represents one lesson that you’ve learnt.
Now, since you seem to have regained the use of your voice, I’ll again give
you the opportunity to explain why I should not have your bottom sliced into
ribbons for your recent profane behaviour.”
“Master,” Sulis’ restored voice, rendered shrill and uncertain by terror,
begged “please don’t hit me again. Felix sent me on an errand to the kitchen
and he said he would flog me if I wasn’t quick. I was therefore running and I
forgot about the sanctuary. I didn’t mean to and I won’t do it again. I
promise!”
“You mightn’t forget again,” Scyrax replied, whilst clearly enjoying himself,
“but boy’s memories can be very short unless assisted. We must be absolutely
sure that you never again act in a profane manner and so I believe that you
must be provided with such help.”
“It also seems to me,” Scyrax added, “that you are currently more concerned to
avoid a sore bottom than to show a proper respect for the gods and Emperors. I
must therefore take action to make certain that you achieve a better
understanding of the relative values of a slave brat’s buttocks and the
dignity of the divinities!”
Turning to his secretary, Scryax asked “If Sulis had been slow in performing
his errand, Felix, how many times would you have flogged him?” “Well, Sir,”
the eunuch answered, “he’s small, young and new and hasn’t caused too much
trouble so far. I would have considered three cuts to be enough for a first
offence!”
“Then six should be sufficient to make him realise that respecting the gods
and Emperors is more important than avoiding a sore backside,” Scyrax happily
declared. Sulis, who had been kneeling and looking up into his master’s face
with damp imploring eyes, let his head drop forward in despair on hearing his
sentence. His narrow shoulders also began to shake as he again sobbed.
By now Sulis fully appreciated by witnessing relevant events how much hurt and
harm that even a single stroke of the cane could cause to a young boy’s flesh
if vigorously applied. He was only a small 10 year-old, who had never been
beaten previously, and was not a sturdy youth, whose bottom was well seasoned
to the rod.
“Take your soiled thong off, filthy brat,” Scyrax next commanded of Sulis,
“and lay across the bench. Don’t delay because the exceptionally long list
that Felix has prepared means that I’ve got a lot of boys to thrash this
evening!”
Sulis attempted to be compliant and tried to rise to his feet. However, the
boy’s trepidation was such that his legs failed him and he collapsed back onto
his knees.
“Come on, brat, get into position before I lose my patience and double your
punishment,” Scyrax therefore threatened. However, despite the warning, Sulis
still experienced difficulty in rising. The brave and kind-hearted Dictys
consequently decided to intervene.
Dictys scuttled forward and, with a fearful glance at Scyrax, hauled Sulis to
his feet. The older youth then carefully pulled the younger boy’s currently
damp and soiled thong down and off, subsequently casting the shed garment
aside.
Sulis’ immature but nicely proportioned genitals were now exposed to view.
However, the boy’s petrified mind did not become focused on his shameful
nudity but instead continued to contemplate in dread what was about to happen
to him.
With Dictys supporting him, Sulis was now encouraged by the older youth to
make his way on shaking legs towards the low wooden bench where so many young
slaves had previously suffered. However, on reaching the furniture, the boy
again appeared to freeze with terror.
Sulis stood trembling before the flogging bench, with his eyes glazed and
rolling like a calf taken to slaughter. Dictys therefore slipped his arm about
the younger boy’s shoulders and whispered words in his ear, encouraging him to
be brave, whilst also easing him down across the wooden surface, which was
noticeably stained with the dried blood of some of the previous young victims
chastised here.
“Dictys, I am most grateful for your assistance,” Scyrax now finally
commented, “although I don’t remember requesting it!” Despite the fact that
these words were mild in context, they were delivered with such an ominous
tone of irritation that the youth’s lovely face immediately turned pale.
Dictys had appreciated that he was taking a risk in helping Sulis without
Scyrax’s agreement, for he did not know how his master would react to his
intervention. The fat man might welcome the youth’s action or he might be
annoyed.
Scyrax’s verbal tone suggested that he was displeased. Such an attitude did
not bode well for Dictys’ immediate future, although his master thankfully now
turned his attention on Sulis, who was now finally lying facedown over the
wooden flogging bench.
Scyrax slipped his left hand between Sulis’ thighs and, pushing forwards and
upwards, lifted the boy’s buttocks so that the delicious smooth curves were
appropriately raised in readiness to be hit by the cane. Satisfied that his
next young victim was correctly positioned, the fat man subsequently ran his
hand gently over the child’s tight little bottom.
Meanwhile, the other boys sat silently, watching in fearful anticipation. They
appreciated that any one of them could be called on to follow Sulis onto the
flogging bench at the whim of their master or his adult servants, especially
the hated and feared Felix.
Although some of the boys already knew that they were to be chastised, and so
were tremulously waiting to be called forward, the rest recognised that
advance notice was not always granted. They might have been espied allegedly
performing some minor misdemeanour, which might not be revealed to them until
Felix went through his long list of supposed miscreants. Excuses for
punishment were also frequently petty, with the young slaves often not even
realising that they had apparently committed an offence.
Marius was as fearful as his new companions, with whom he was sitting, cross-
legged on the ground. The boy appreciated that from now on he too would be
subject to the appalling disciplinary regime that he was witnessing.
Scyrax suddenly delivered a sharp open-handed slap onto Sulis’ pert bottom.
The sound of the fat man’s chubby hand striking the boy’s tautly drawn flesh
rang out loudly in the silence pervading the courtyard, which was also
disturbed by a surprised yelp from his young victim.
Scyrax subsequently placed his cane across the upper curves of Sulis’ bottom
in order to gauge the initial target that he wanted to hit. The terrified boy
tensed under the cruel implement’s touch, deepening the cute dimples on either
side of each of his curvaceous buttocks in the process.
Scyrax then lifted the cane high over his shoulder and paused, looking down at
Sulis’ lovely slim body, stretched naked and defenceless before him. To some
of the more philosophic witnesses of the scene, the fat man’s massive bulk
towering over the boy’s little form appeared to serve as a symbol of the
despotic power that nature has given the strong and brutal over the meek and
mild. They could see, as the 10 year-old in his terrified heart also knew,
that resistance was useless and escape impossible.
Scyrax waited a moment, savouring his power and enjoying through the suspense
increasing the misery of his now whimpering young victim. The fat man then
finally slashed the cane downwards with all his strength and weight behind the
stroke. The rod hissed through the air with a deep terrifying whistle and
struck Sulis’ bare bottom exactly on target with a sharp crack, which echoed
round the silent courtyard.
Sulis immediately jerked convulsively but was initially momentarily silent, as
the pain had again temporarily driven the breath from his body. However, the
quietude was only brief and the boy soon uttered a shrill scream, whilst his
feet rapidly beat the ground repetitively as a result of the unprecedented
agony reverberating through him.
Scyrax therefore decided to wait until Sulis had recovered his composure and
was still again before delivering the next blow. The fat man was in no hurry,
and anyway he wanted the boy to have plenty of time to feel to the full
excruciation of every cut inflicted on him.
Whilst Scyrax waited patiently, with his cane again raised ominously high into
the air, he noticed that the white streak that the cane had at first left
across Sulis’ flesh was quickly reddening and darkening. Areas of deep purple
and blue bruising were beginning to develop at the edges. Having gained plenty
of experience of beating boys, the fat man knew the best wounds would add
green and yellow to the colours decorating his young victim’s bottom but such
hues would probably not emerge until after the thrashing had been completed.
The sobbing Sulis, still somehow remaining compliantly in place, eventually
stilled and so Scyrax launched his second blow, which was aimed and delivered
to a point just below the first. After hearing the associated whoosh, the boy
actually screamed before the cane struck him, whilst his bare feet again beat
a tattoo on the sand-covered marble paving. His young and pretty body then
arched and writhed when the hit landed and agony once more coursed through
him, devastating his nerve ends and destroying every sensation within his form
except that of the all-consuming pain.
The cane rose and fell another two times and the sound of wood striking naked
boy flesh blended with that of Sulis’ screams and the thumping of his feet, as
he shrieked and convulsed with each impact. Whilst he suffered in this way,
Scyrax, with all the skill that came with many years of practice at flogging
boys, laid the strokes on methodically and neatly, each one at a similar
distance and parallel below the last.
Scyrax deliberately delivered the fourth blow exactly along the crease where
the back of Sulis’ thighs met the curves of his bottom. The fat man knew that
the hit would burn the hottest and longest. However, he was resolved to ensure
that the boy would also not easily going to forget the last two strikes.
Slightly shifting his ground, Scyrax delivered the fifth and sixth strokes
diagonally across Sulis’ already well-beaten bottom. Each of these hits
intersected with the earlier wheals and dark droplets of blood began to form
there.
“Get up, brat!” Scyrax then commanded, reinforcing his order with a harsh slap
across the bruised and bleeding bottom of the sobbing 10 year-old. Sulis
immediately scrambled to his feet in compliance and instinctively began on
rubbery legs to make his uncertain way back to his place among the ranks of
the other boys.
“No, don’t go there,” Scyrax instructed, “but go instead to wait by my couch.
I haven’t finished with you yet!” Sulis obediently changed direction, whilst
worrying about what his cruel master still had in store for him.
“Now, Felix, what have you next for me?” Scyrax then asked of his secretary,
who again consulted his clay tablet. “Lysias, Sir,” the eunuch later began to
announce, “for gross impertinence in that he……..”
Over the next two hours, boy after terrified boy was summoned from among their
sitting comrades to take their places stretched over the flogging bench,
whilst the courtyard was filled with the sounds of the crack of wood on tender
flesh and the shrill screams of youngsters under correction. During this time,
the watching Marius became aware of the purpose of the pot, as the inevitably
drying cane being used was regularly changed for one made suppler by the brine
in the container.
After he had personally thrashed five young victims, Scyrax complained of
cramp in his right arm and surrendered his cane to his enthusiastic black
African servant. As this man was bigger and more powerful than his master, he
inflicted the relevant later beatings with even greater vigour.
As his black servant began his, for him, very enjoyable duties, Scyrax walked
back to his couch, at whose foot the panting Sulis had dropped. The fat man
lifted his hand and the dark curly-haired boy, who had been attending him,
darted forward with a goblet full of expensive wine. He subsequently produced
a bowl of cold water and a cloth, which he used to mop his master’s heated
brow.
Suitably refreshed, Scyrax reached out and lifted Sulis onto his knees and
began to fondle him. The boy initially whimpered again, as his master’s tunic
pressed against his sore bottom. However, the fat man took no notice of this
reaction and instead gathered the 10 year-old’s tiny balls between the fingers
of one hand and gently played with them, whilst he stroked the child’s pretty
but tearstained face with the other.
Despite his pain and misery, Sulis’ little cock began to harden in response to
Scyrax’s manhandling. Having achieved this happy result, the fat man next
dropped his hand downwards from the boy’s face to his chest.
Scyrax now took Sulis’ right nipple, which had earlier been nicked by the
cane, between his finger and thumb. The fat man then cruelly pinched the rosy
tit hard, causing blood to well again from the cut that he had consequently
reopened. The fat man subsequently bent his head and licked the sanguine flow
away, whilst his young victim groaned in anguish.
Scyrax eventually returned his attention to his black servant, who was happily
flogging boys, all of whom were required to divest themselves of their
pristinely white attire in readiness for their beatings. This practice was
customarily followed not only to ensure that no protection was afforded to the
target flesh but also to avoid staining the garments with blood, urine
expelled by frightened bladders and semen. The latter substance was amazingly
not uncommonly produced by older victims, although not on this occasion.
Comparative silence later finally fell on the courtyard. There was now no
sound apart from the tinkling of the fountains and the suppressed sobbing of
the boys who had had their bottoms beaten. The last young victim had stumbled
unsteadily away from the flogging bench, holding his burning rear in one hand
and his shed loincloth in the other. Felix appeared to have reached the end of
his list of defaulters.
“Is that all, Felix,” Scyrax therefore asked, whilst displaying some
disappointment, “don’t you have any more boys for correction?” “I am afraid
that I do, Sir,” the secretary answered, although he appeared pleased rather
than upset.
“I discovered two brats in one of the storerooms, Sir,” Felix continued, “and
they were having sex together.” This revelation instantly induced a shocked
murmur amongst the listening boys, who appreciated that chastisement for such
action, which was expressly forbidden by Scyrax unless he gave permission,
would be extreme.
“This is so serious an offence,” the secretary added, “that I had the brats
confined in the cellar in case they tried to run away to avoid their due
punishment!” “Quite right and well done, Felix,” a clearly angry Scyrax
commented before enquiring “Who are these wicked whores?” “Nisus and Giton,
Sir,” the smirking eunuch reported.
“Have them brought here immediately,” Scyrax next ominously commanded, “to
enable me to make an example of them both. I will not tolerate such
disgraceful disobedient behaviour amongst my boys and so their punishment will
be very severe indeed!”
(To be continued)
* * * |
Meg's Castration Vacation- Part 2: The Wolf Pack | WARNING, TG, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, [Animal: Canine, Biting | While Meg recovers from her near castration, she notices how well endowed her great dane is, and some good natured fooling around ends in disaster for one of them. | Meg’s penis was badly swollen and a little discolored, like a bad bruise, for
quite some time. Unfortunately, this meant she couldn’t do much for a few
days, and ended up bedridden, legs spread wide to accommodate her enlarged
package. How lewd the chubby girl must have looked, nude, splayed out in the
bedroom of her cabin, big, bruised penis in a state of near constant arousal.
It was difficult for her, but she masturbated quite a bit over those few days,
her imagination running away with her. She kept thinking about how close she
came to losing her penis, and that got her harder than any experience she’d
ever had before.
All the while, as she layed there, alternately masturbating or relaxing, her
great dane Rusty would plod in and out of the room, casually watching Meg
pleasure herself. Perhaps it was the recent events that had Meg preoccupied
with testicles, but for the first time she noticed just how BIG Rusty’s were.
They were like baseballs between the huge dog’s hind legs.
Meg found herself staring quite a bit, watching them bounce around as he
walked. Eventually, curiosity got the better of her. Donning a pair of shorts
and a tee shirt, Meg led Rusty outside, tying him to a post behind the
cottage. Sitting down next to the huge animal, Meg nonchalantly slid a hand
down his side, under him, and finally, to those big nuts, cupping them. Rusty
didn’t seem to mind…so Meg continued to fondle them, feeling the large organs
inside his sac jiggle and bounce.
Not surprisingly, Rusty’s sheath began to swell, and his red length of dog
meat began to poke out. Meg’s eyes grew wide, watching it grow…and grow…and
grow! The huge, red shaft hit a full 14 inches before stopping! Meg was
awestruck by the massive appendage between her dog’s legs, wondering how she’d
never noticed the monster before!
Meg’s curiosity was on a roll. She bit her lip, pushed her glasses up on her
nose, and grabbed it. It was hot to the touch, and moist, throbbing in her
hand. She’d never felt anything quite like it…it was a powerful penis,
alright. Rusty seemed quite proud of it, standing bolt upright as she fondled
him, her hand beginning to drift up and down the knotted red organ. Before
long, she was pumping him hard and fast, his meat nearly as thick as her arm.
She found herself wondering how he walked with it…and glad she hadn’t gotten
him fixed.
She continued to pump him for quite a while, Rusty getting more and more
anxious and fidgety…Meg figured that meant that his orgasm was approaching. It
wasn’t until a rustling in the bushes caught her attention that she realized
Rusty was antsy for another reason. Three wolves leapt from the brush, teeth
bared, snarling, grey and black fur standing on end. Rusty returned the growl,
Meg letting go of his throbbing dog cock, the rigid length bouncing between
his legs as she backed toward the house.
It happened fast. The wolves were on Rusty in a matter of seconds, and despite
his size, he was simply unable to fend off three of them, especially tied to a
post as he was. A writhing mass of legs shot up into the air as Rusty was
rolled onto his back, his fourteen inches of red meat jutting upward like an
obscene flagpole. As Meg watched, mouth agape, one of the wolves leapt in,
it’s teeth clamping down on Rusty’s massive cock! The wolf pulled backward,
tearing at it, but released suddenly as an explosion of white goo filled it’s
mouth…Meg had left Rusty so close to orgasm that the slightest touch set him
off!
Rusty whimpered pitifully as his bloody penis sprayed cum everywhere, and the
wolves moved in again. This time, a wolf took hold of his balls, wrench it’s
head from side to side, even as Rusty’s last ejaculation went on! The wolf
pulled furiously, growling, tearing, finally ripping that big sac open,
Rusty’s balls falling onto the dirt, held on only by the chords. With a snap,
one of those big, round testicles was torn free. Rusty cried out, and again
his penis was lodged into the mouth of an attacking wolf. This time, the wolf
bit down, hard, the red canine meat turning purple almost instantly, blood
spattering. With a sickening wrench and a cry of terror from Meg, Rusty’s
massive cock came free, devoured almost instantly by the wolf who’d stolen it.
Meg ran inside…she didn’t see the rest, but couldn’t find Rusty after the
wolves had left…they must have dragged him somewhere…
Even after witnessing what she had, though…between her legs, her own flagpole
refused to subside. Meg fell asleep that night splattered with her own cum,
imagining it was her penis instead of Rusty’s…
* * * |
Tante Jutta und Onkel Bernd (deutsch/german) | GAY, NULLIFICATION, MINOR | Meine erste eigene Geschichte. Viel Spass beim lesen! Ich bin auf eure Meinung und Ideen zum zweiten Teil gespannt. Mailt mal!Holger | ` Ich bin Stefan und bin jetzt fast 18 jähre alt. Seit meinem dritten
Lebensjahr lebe ich bei meiner Tante Jutte und Onkel Bernd. Meine Eltern sind
bei einem Unfall ums Leben gekommen, da war ich aber noch ganz klein. Die
beiden haben mich damals zu sich genommen, damit ich nicht in ein Heim musste.
Man muss wissen, das die beiden sehr religiös sind. Das hab ich auch schon als
Kind schnell bemerkt. Nacktheit war tabu. Bei den beiden jedenfalls. Ich hab
sie bis heute noch nie ohne Klamotten gesehen. Bei meiner Erziehung wurde sehr
viel Wert auf Gottesfürchtigkeit, Reinheit und Züchtigkeit gelegt. Seit ich
elf bin, werde ich regelmässig samstags nach dem Baden rasiert. Nein, nicht im
Gesicht, sondern mir wird das Schamhaar sorgfältig entfernt. Jedes mal nach
dem Baden kommt immer Tante Jutta rein wund wäscht mir noch mal gründlich den
Schwanz. Ich muss mich dann in der Wanne stellen, damit sie gut an meine
Genitalien rankommt. Sie kümmert sich immer sehr sorgfältig um meinen kleinen
Freund. Die Vorhaut wird zurückgezogen und die Eichel richtig mit Seife
geschrubbt. Danach wir rasiert. Es darf kein Haar in der Gegend stehen
bleiben. Anfangs hat sie noch einen elektrischen Rasierer von Onkel Bernd
benutz, dass ging aber später nicht mehr. Jetzt wurde meine Leistengegend mit
viel Schaum eingeschmiert und mit einem Rasiermesser glatt rasiert. Mit zwölf
oder so bekam ich bei dieser Prozedur meinen ersten Ständer. Tante Jutta rief
Onkel Bernd dazu und beide betrachteten meinen Kolben ganz genau. Dann
erklärte mir Onkel Bernd dass das was ganz schlimmes ist und ich wurde dafür
Bestraft. Mit einem Lineal bekam ich solange Schläge auf meinen Pimmel, bis er
wieder klein und schrumplig war. Onkel Bernd hat mich dabei fest gehalten und
Tante Jutta wie verrück immer weiter drauf geschlagen. Das Ziel war erreicht
und mein Schwanz brannte wie Feuer. Ich wurde fertig rasiert und musste auf
mein Zimmer. Ich hab die ganze Nacht geheult. Vor Schmerzen und vor Scham.
Aber es liess sich nicht verhindern. Mein Schwanz meldetet sich immer öfter
und bald hatte ich heraus gefunden, wie schöne es war mit dem Steifen zu
spielen. Es dauert auch nicht lange zu merken was passiert wenn ich meine
Vorhaut immer auf und ab über die Eichel zog. Es war geil und ich spritzte
meinen ersten heissen Samen ins Bettuch und schlief ein. TB bemerkte den
milchigen Fleck am nächsten Morgen natürlich sofort, sagte aber nichts. Als
ich aus der Schule kam, sassen Tante Jutta und Onkel Bernd am Küchentisch. Ich
sollte mich dazu setzen. TB schloss die Tür der Küche ab und zogen die
Vorhänge zu. Ich wusste nicht, was jetzt geschehen sollte. TB befahl mir, mich
auszuziehen, was sehr ungewöhnlich war. Ich tat es aber weil ich immer das
mache, was Tante Jutta sagt.. Als ich mich wieder setzen wollte standen die
beiden auf und zogen den Stuhl weg. So stand ich nun, nur mit einer Unterhose
bekleidet vor dem Küchentisch. Tante Jutta fing an zu schildern, was sie heute
morgen in meinem Bett gefunden hat und sie genau wisse, wo das herkäme. Ich
wurde rot. Mir wurde sofort klar, dass das, was ich so geil fand verboten ist.
Onkel Bernd kam zu mir und zog mir nun den Slip bis auf die Knie runter. Dann
schob er mich gegen den Tisch und legte er meinen Schwanz und die Eier auf die
Holzplatte. Er stellte sich hinter mich, legte seine Arme um meinen Brustkorb
damit ich nicht mehr weg konnte. Tante Jutta nahm auf der Schublade einen
Pfannenwender aus Metall. Mit dem bekam ich mindestens 20 Schläge auf mein auf
dem Küchentisch ruhendes Gehänge. Die Schmerzen waren grausam, denn sie traf
nicht nur meine empfindliche Eichel sondern auch die Eier, die rechts und
links neben dem Schwarz auf dem Tisch lagen. Als sie endlich aufhörte, dachte
ich, es sei vorbei. Aber weit gefehlt. Jetzt wurde mir ein Handtuch unter den
Schwanz gelegt und Tante Jutta kam mit einem Kessel voll kochendem Wasser
wieder an den Tisch. Ganz langsam kippte sie das Wasser über meinen Wurm und
den Sack. Ich brüllte wie am Spiess. Keiner kann sich vorstellen wie weh es
tut, wenn dir langsam aber sicher deine Männlichkeit gekocht wird. Mein Pimmel
war rot wie eine Tomate und ich konnte ihn eine Woche lang nicht anfassen.
Auch nicht zum Pinkeln. Das musste ich im sitzen machen. Selbst die Unterhose
brannte wie Hölle auf meinem verbrühten Ding. Tante Jutta kam jetzt jeden
Abend und jeden Morgen an mein Bett, zog mir die Vorhaut unsanft zurück und
suchte nach Spermaspuren. Manchmal presse sich auch meinen Schwanz fest
zusammen oder schob mir ein Wattestäbchen in die Pissritze um zu prüfen Onkel
Bernd noch Sperma in der Harnröhre ist. Fast einen Monat ging es gut. Aber
dann kam dieser verhängnisvolle Samstag. Ich lag in der Bandewanne und musste
mich gründlich waschen. Ich wollte es gar nicht, aber in dem schönen warmen
Wasser machte es richtig Spass, mit dem Duschkopf meinen Schwanz zu
bespritzen. Ich konnte gar nicht mehr aufhören und da war es passiert: Eine
fette Ladung der feinsten Sahne pumpe aus mir heraus direkt ins Badewasser.
Kaum passiert kam Tante Jutta zum waschen und rasieren rein. Scheisse dachte
ich. Sie sah natürlich sofort die Bescherung und rief Onkel Bernd dazu. Auch
er sah mit Entsetzen die Bescherung. Ich musste mich sofort hinstellen und
hielt mich von hinten fest. Tante Jutta wusch mir meinen Schwanz besonders
gründlich mit viel Seife und richtig heissem Wasser. Aber anstatt mir die
Schamhaare zu rasieren ging sie kurz aus dem Bad und kam mit einer
Injektionsnadel in der Hand zurück. Erst dacht ich, sie wollten mir was
spritzen und zappelte wie blöde, aber Onkel Bernd hielt mich fest. Tante Jutta
nahm nun wieder meinen Schwanz in die Hand und zog meine Vorhaut so weit es
ging noch vorne über die Eichel. Dann nahm sie die Nadel und bohrte sie
unsanft durch die Haut durch, so dass zwei kleine Löcher in meiner Vorhaut
entstanden. Es blutete ein bisschen und tat auch etwas weh. Dann wurde mit ein
keines Bügelschloss durch die Löcher gezogen, so, dass eine Eichel nun in der
Vorhaut gefangen war. Tante Jutta tupfte die Einstichlöcher noch mit Jod ab.
Das brannte aber stillte die Blutung. Ich durfte gehen. Diesmal wurde ich
nicht rasiert. Pinkeln klappte noch, wenn auch nur im sitzen, aber sich einen
runter zu holen war unmöglich, denn sobald mein Schwanz steif wurde, schnitte
das Schloss in meine Eichel ein und die Vorhaut spannte durch den Druck. Immer
Samstags wurde nun das Schloss geöffnet und mein Schwanz gründlich gereinigt.
Nach nun genau vier Wochen, es war wieder Samstag, öffnete Tante Jutta das
Schloss und als die Sie Vorhaut zurück zog kam uns ein widerlicher Gestank
entgegen. Eine Superladung Sperma musste sich wohl irgendwann nachts
selbstständig gemacht haben und blieb natürlich in meiner Vorhauttüte kleben.
Ich wurde gründlich von ihr gesäubert und musste dann gleich mit in die
verdunkelte Küche kommen. Ich schwor, dass ich nichts gemacht habe und mein
Ding nicht unsittlich angefasst habe. Aber die beiden glaubten mir nicht.
Egal, ich wollte mich schon zur Bestraffung an den Tisch stellen, da sagte mir
Onkel Bernd, dass ich mich auf den Rücken auf den Tisch legen müsse. Das tat
ich auch, denn so konnten sie mich wenigsten nicht verbrühen. Mit bereits
bereitgelegten Stricken banden sie dann meine Arme und Beine an den
Tischstempeln fest, so dann ich mich bis auf meinen Kopf nicht mehr bewegen
konnte. Mein Schwanz war habsteif so auf dem Präsentierteller. Das änderte
sich aber schnell, als Tante Jutta erst mal mit dem Pfannenwender anfing drauf
rum zu hauen. Jetzt kam Onkel Bernd ins Spiel. In der Hand hatte er seine
Rosenschere. Mir wurde plötzlich ganz anders und ich fing an zu schreien. Die
wollen mir doch wohl nicht den Schwanz abscheiden? Tante Jutta steckte mir
einen Topflappen in den Mund, so das ich bis auf ein Grunzen nichts mehr
rausbrachte. Mir wurde dann noch ein Handtuch übers Gesicht gelegt, damit ich
nicht sehen konnte, was jetzt geschah. Ich merkte wie Tante Jutta meinen
Schwanz anfasste als Onkel Bernd sie ihn schrubben wollte. Aber sauber war er
dich schon? Sie nahm meine Vorhaut in die Finger, als Onkel Bernd sie sie
durchstechen wollte. Aber Löcher für ein Schloss hatte sie doch schon? Und
wozu eigentlich die Gartenschere? Ich merkte es, als ich die Klingen der
Schere an meiner Vorhaut spürte. Oh Gott, die wollen mich Beschneiden! Ich
zappelte wie wild, aber Tante Jutta sage schroff das ich damit aufhören solle,
sonst wäre wohlmöglich der ganze Schwanz ab. Das sah ich ein und hörte auf.
Meine Vorhaut war ziemlich gedehnt. Darum gingen die Scherenblätter ganz
schnell und leicht durch die Haut. Erst tat es kaum weh, aber dann kamen die
Schmerzen. Meine Vorhaut war ab und meine Eichel lag nun frei. Ich merkte, wie
Blut langsam über meine Beine und den Bauch floss. Mir wurde Eis auf die Wunde
gelegt und die Blutung zu stillen. Durch die Kälte konnte ich den Schmerz fast
vergessen. Ich bekam keine Schmerzmittel, denn ich sollte schliesslich auch
bestraft werden. Wenigsten brauchte ich jetzt dieses dämliche Schloss nicht
mehr. Die Wunde heilte recht schnell. Mein geschundener Schwanz sah allmählich
wieder einigermassen normal aus. Beschnitten zwar, aber normal. Fast jeden
Morgen wachte ich jetzt mit einer Latte auf. Manchmal musste ich noch länger
im Bett liegen bleiben, damit Tante Jutta und Onkel Bernd nicht merkten wie
geil ich war. Schlimm war auch das Rasieren am Samstag. Mein Bolzen wurde nun
regelmässig steif und ich bekam genau so regelmässig von Tante Jutta Schläge
drauf um ihn wieder klein zu kriegen. Trotzdem hatte ich bald rausgefunden,
wie man sich auch ohne Vorhaut einen runterholen kann. Ich war immer sehr
vorsichtig. Ich machte es auch nicht oft. Nur wenn ich vor Geilheit tief in
der Nacht nicht einschlafen konnte, spuckte ich mir auf die Handfläche und
rieb meinen Schwanz bis zum Spritzen. Es war immer so geil! Gleich danach
schlich ich mich am Schlafzimmer von Tante Jutta und Onkel Bernd vorbei ins
Bad um zu pinkeln. So konnte Tante Jutta keine Wichse mehr in meiner Harnröhre
feststellen. Die vollgesamten Papiertücher schmiss ich ins Klo. Das ging auch
ein paar Touren gut. Bis mir eines Nachts Tante Jutta auf dem Flur auflauerte,
mir meine Pyjama-Hose runterzog um meinen Pimmel zu inspizieren. Klar sah sie
sofort, dass der noch halbsteif und mit Sperma beschmiert war. Sie sagte nur
"Aha!" und ging wieder ins Bett. So stand ich nun mit runtergezogener Hose auf
dem Flur und dachte mir schon, dass das nichts gutes bedeuten würde. Ab sofort
wurden mir jetzt jeden Abend die Hände am Bett festgebunden, so das ich
unmöglich an mir rumfingern konnte. Über Tag musste ich eine Art
Lederunterhose tragen, die ich selber nicht öffnen konnte. Wenn ich pissen
wollte, musste ich Tante Jutta fragen, damit sie mit aufs Klo ging. Rund eine
Woche später, es war Sonntag, wurde gleich nach dem Frühstück der Küchentisch
abgeräumt und blank geschrubbt. Irgendwas hatte die beiden vor und ich ahnte
schon, dass es nichts gutes sein würde. Ich wurde zum Baden geschickt, Onkel
Berndwohl ich das ja gestern schon getan hatte. Aus dem Badezimmer hörte ich
die Türglocke. Jetzt Besuch? Tante Jutta kam ins Badezimmer und wusch mir
besonders heiss und gründlich meinen geschundenen Freund und die Eier. Wenn
das Wasser nicht so heiss gewesen wäre, hätte ich abgespritzt. Ich musste dann
nacht mit in die Küche kommen, wo schon Onkel Bernd und ein Mann warteten, den
ich noch nie gesehen hatte. Er wurde mir als Doktor Berg vorgestellt. Er
begrüsste mich aber nicht, sonder gab gleich die Anweisung, mich auf den Tisch
zu legen. Ich wurde an Händen und Füssen am Tisch wieder so festgemacht, dass
mein Gehänge gut zu erreichen war. Scheisse, was soll jetzt kommen, dachte ich
mir. Mein Sack war wegen dem heissen Bad ziemlich lang und meine Eier
berührten die kalte Tischplatte. Dr. Berg stelle sich an das Tischende, so das
er meine Genitalien genau betrachten konnte. Er nahm meinen Schwanz in die
Hand und sagte zu Tante Jutta: Gute Arbeit. Dann nahm er meinen Sack in die
Hand und drücke mir sehr unsanft auf den Nüssen herum. Ich schrie auf. Er
sagte zu Tante Jutta sie solle dafür sorgen, dass ich ruhig bin und sie
steckte mir wieder den Topflappen in den Mund. Dr. Berg fragte die beiden,
Onkel Bernd ich noch „Jungfrau“ sei. Tante Jutta bejahte es, sagte aber
gleich, dass ich mich mehrfach selbst befleckt habe. Der Arzt meine dann zu
mir, Onkel Bernd das stimmen würde und ich nickte ängstlich. Dann er tastete
mir nun sanfter die Hoden ab um bemerkte, dass sie randvoll waren. Die müssen
leer sein, sagte er. Tante Jutta und Onkel Bernd berieten sich kurz, dann nahm
Onkel Bernd meinen Schwanz in die Hand und fing an ihm zu reiben. Mein Bolzen
wurde sofort hart und es dauerte auch nicht lange, da samte ich ab. Es war,
trotz der merkwürdigen Situation ziemlich geil. Ich bekam aber keine ruhe,
denn jetzt machte sich Tante Jutta an meinen habsteifen Teil zu schaffen. Sie
schaffte es ziemlich schnell ihm wieder hoch zu kriegen und ich spritzte noch
mal auf meinen Bauch. Aber es war noch nicht Schluss. Onkel Bernd griff nun
wieder zu. Diesmal dauerte es schon länger bis ich wieder spritzbereit war.
Ich schleuderte wieder ne Menge Sperma auf mich drauf. So ging es noch
bestimmt eine Stunde weiter. Immer abwechselnd wurde ich von den beiden
gewichst. Bis nichts mehr in meinen Eiern war. Jetzt kam der Doktor wieder an
den Tisch und griff mir ziemlich unsanft an meine nun schmerzenden Klöten.
Einmal muss er noch, sagte er. Mein Schwanz war schrumplig und zu nichts mehr
fähig. Da erbarmte sich Onkel Bernd und nahm meinen Pimmel in den Mund und
fing an, wie verrückt daran zu saugen. Allein der Gedanke daran, dass mein
Teil jetzt in einem Mund war machte mich wieder scharf. Onkel Berndwohl ich
dachte, dass ich für die nächsten hundert Jahre genug gespritzt hatte, merkte
ich wie meine Eier versuchten, den letzten Rest rauszujagen. Doch kurz bevor
ich kam, brach Onkel Bernd ab und Dr. Berg griff an meinen Sack. Bitte machen
Sie gleich weiter, dann ist es für ihn nicht so schmerzhaft, sagte er ruhig zu
Onkel Bernd. Er hatte ein silbernes Skalpell in der Hand und schnitt mit in
den Sack. Ein kleiner grader Schnitt. Ich hätte gebrüllt wenn ich gekonnt
hätte, doch so liefen mir nun ein paar Tränen die Wangen runter. Machen Sie
jetzt weiter, sagte er und Onkel Bernd begann wieder zu blasen. Ich merkte wie
weiter an meinen Hoden rumgezupft wurde. Es tat höllisch weh, aber durch die
Blaserei von Onkel Bernd war ich wie in Trance. Wenige Sekunden noch und ich
würde Onkel Bernd tierisch in den Rachen spritzen. Aber dazu kam es nicht
mehr. Dann genau in dem Moment als ich nicht mehr aufhalten konnte, schnitt
Dr. Berg zu und meine Hoden fielen auf den Küchentisch. `
Wird fortgesetzt!
* * * |
The disco | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION | girls just wanna have fun | The Disco
A group of us guys went off to a new club. The bouncers were
big muscle women. They looked us up and down and let us in. They
seemed to say "No coming on the dance floor". Inside the club was
dark, good music playing. We started to dance. As the lights adjusted
we noticed lots of very sexy young ladies. Some were earing short
dresses; others basques, suspenders and nickers; some in leather;
some in PVC and some in coloured bras and nickers. Wow heaven we
thought.
A group of girls were dancing near us. Arms in the air,
shaking their breasts and bums. We couldnt help but watch. One of the
girls caught me looking at her. She smiled. She slinked over and
danced closer to me. She was wearing a red lacy bra and nickers. I
looked down, right into her full breasts. I looked at her again. She
smiled. She started to rub her body against mine. To my amazement she
undid her bra and placed my hands on her tits. I glanced around and
noticed all the girls were coming on to the guys.
One guy not being paid attention, moved to the middle of the
dance floor and dropped his trousers and pants. His cock quickly
stiffened. The girl closest to him, left the man she was coming on
to, and turned to him. You could see his eyes staring at her tits,
mesmarised. All the girls turned to watch and the boys as well. The
girl punched him in the face and grabbed his balls. She punched them.
All of us guys cringed, the girls giggled at us cringing. She tugged
his balls and punched them a few more times until he hit the deck.
She kicked him in the face, the side and stamped in his
stomach. A bouncer woman came over she gave the girl a choice of a
knife or a brick. She took the brick. She knelt between the writhing
mans legs. Took aim. And smashed his cock and balls with the edge of
the brick. She stood up and held his genitals in her hand in triumph.
All the girls were shrieking and cheering.
The girl I was with, got back down to dancing and teasing me.
I was dancing but very rigidly. She stroked my hair, face. She was
beautiful. I felt good again. She rubbed her tits against me. I felt
motion in my loins. She rubbed her leg between my legs. She smiled
and whispered "your hard". Her hand dropped down and touched my cock
through my trousers. It was pushing to get out. She lowered her body
and undid my fly. I groaned. She undid my trousers and let them fall.
She pulled down my pants. I could feel the moistness of her mouth on
my penis. My God it was good. She was bringing me slowly toward
orgasm. I couldnt control myself anymore. I could feel the sperm
forcing its way from my balls and out of my cock. She moved her mouth
away quickly. My sperm shot across the dance floor. It glowed purple
in the flourescent lights. I was grabbed from behind and dragged from
the dance floor by a bouncer. My girl followed.
I was grabbed by my balls and lifted up a bouncers leg. The
bouncer said "No coming on the dance floor". My girl smiled again.
She said "I'm sorry, I caused the mess, I'ld better remove it. With
that the bouncer handed the girl a knife. She bent down, smiled at me
again. She teased my cock with the knife and then my balls. I could
feel the cold steel on my genitals. Then I fell to the ground. I
looked up to see my penis and scrotum dangling from her hand. She
placed it between her legs, pretending to be a guy and giggled. She
bent down, kissed my cheek and whispered "Thank you, I've always
wanted some of these". She walked off. I was dragged out of the club
and dumped into the street. My last sexual experience was over. |
The Private Hell of Don Juan | PENECTOMY | What could be a more hellish fate for the world\'s greatest lover ? | **The Private Hell of Don Juan**
**by**
**Bagoas**
**What could be a more hellish fate for the world's greatest lover ?**
**Legend has it that Don Juan de Marana** **jokingly invited the statue of a
man whom he had murdered to dinner and the statue accepted his invitation and
dragged him down to hell. A fine romantic and moralistic tale, but the truth
is that Don Juan endured his own hell on Earth for 36 years before finally
being released by death at the age of 72.**
**In the sixteen years which he had spent in Seville, Don Juan had made many
enemies, mostly cuckolded husbands. Though he preferred seducing and
deflowering young virgins, he would never reject an attractive married woman,
many of whom found him vastly more attractive than their husbands.**
**Don Juan de Marana was hypnotically charming, exceptionally handsome, and
very well-endowed, though not uncomfortably so. His sexual prowess was the
stuff of legend. Even nymphomaniacs found it impossible to exhaust him. He
would leave a woman utterly spent....and begging for more. Men considered his
reputation greatly exaggerated. Women knew better.**
**Even if a man knew for certain that Don Juan was having an affair with his
wife, he was unlikely to confront the young grandee over it. Don Juan was
unarguably the best swordsman in Seville, probably in all of Spain.**
**Among his bitterest enemies, therefore, were cuckolded husbands who knew
very well that they _were_ cuckolds. Every one of them plotted revenge against
Don Juan, but none dared attempt it alone or knew who the others were .
Gradually, however, some of them did become acquainted and learned of their
common grudge. **
**Don Juan relied heavily upon the espionage abilities of his manservant, an
Italian named Amilcare Leporello to keep him appraised of the doings and
attitudes of the husbands of his various women, both to ascertain if the
husband was aware that his wife was unfaithful and whether it appeared that he
might try to do something about it.**
**Leporello kept watch outside the house during his master's romantic
esacapades and spied on the master of the house afterward. If there was danger
of interruption by a husband or father, Leporello played the role of a
drunkard singing in the street outside to warn Don Juan.**
**As he could watch only one cuckold at a time, Leporello was unaware of a
cabal of outraged husbands which had met several times to hatch a suitable
plan to be avenged on Don Juan. Even so, there had been much talk but nothing
decided. All of this was to change, however, with the arrival in Seville of an
old flame of Don Juan's from Burgos whom he had abandoned after promising to
marry her.**
**Doña Elvira de Burgos had promised to cut out Don Juan's heart if he did not
return to her and carry out his promise to marry her. Leporello, of course,
soon discovered that she had come to Seville seeking blood or marriage. He
reported this to Don Juan and asked what he intended to do about it. " _You_
are going to do something about it, Leporello. Dissuade her from wanting to
marry me. Tell her anything unfavorable about me that you can think of, even
the truth !"**
**Leporello was known to Doña Elvira, and she might listen to him, especially
if she thought that he was disgruntled about his service to Don Juan. On the
other hand, Leporello welcomed the opportunity to visit Doña Elvira because it
would give him an opportunity to resume his seduction of her chambermaid,
Zerbinetta, which had been so rudely interrupted by Don Juan's precipitate
flight from Burgos.**
**Leporello decided that nothing could be more unfavorable to Don Juan than
the truth and, therefore, took with him the diary of his sevice to the
dissolute young grandee which he had kept for ten years.**
**In his own lower-class way, Leporello could be just as charming as his
master, and had wormed his way into Doña Elvira's good graces back in Burgos.
He was, therefore not at all surprised when she had him invited into the house
which she had rented.**
**She smiled upon him and asked "Well, Leporello, have you been well ?" "Yes,
very much so, Doña Elvira, and you ?" "As well has one can be who has been
wounded to the heart by a viper." she replied " And that scamp of a master of
yours, he is well ?" "Considering the dissolute life that he lives," answered
Leporello, "his health is astonishing ."**
**"Dissolute ?" asked Doña Elvira in some surprise. "Up to his old tricks,
Señora: a new woman every night and over half of them married. His pursuit of
women of all degrees and all sorts has been unremitting since early youth.
This far from small notebook lists them all. In Italy, 640; in**
**Germany, 231; 100 in France, in Turkey 91, but in Spain, the score is
already 1003 !"**
**"Perfidious monster!" shrieked Doña Elvira. "He swore that he had never
loved another woman before me, that he had come to me as a virgin." "HAH !"
bellowed Leporello "Pardon my mirth, Madama, but the sheer brazen gall of his
daring to say such a thing makes me laugh out of sheer incredulity.**
**Don Juan often defends his "honor" with the sword, but daily sullies it with
, er,....... _another_ weapon." "You seem displeased with your service of this
master, Leporello." "That, Madama, is an understatement . Day and night I
weary myself in his service, Rain and wind I endure. Poorly rested and poorly
fed, yet do I get any thanks for it ? He throws some ducats at me and thinks
that that is thanks enough."**
**"This scoundrel of a master of yours has done me an ill turn. Let him not be
surprised if I requite him in like fashion." "Whatever it may be, I am sure
that 'twill be no worse than he deserves, Señora." _"Adios,_ then, Leporello
and _muchas gracias_." "Adios, Señora."**
**When Leporello returned and told Don Juan of his visit to Doña Elvira, Don
Juan laughed heartily** **. "Well done, Leporello. That ought to get her off
my neck." "She means you ill, though, master. Watch out for her." "Hah ! woman
is fickle, like a shifting wind, soft of speech...... and of mind. I've had
her and any time I want her in my bed again, all I have to do is crook my
little finger."**
**Doña Elvira , chatting with the Countess Almaviva mentioned Don Juan's
perfidy, and, her tongue rather loosened by a glass of _oloroso_ sherry, even
quoted Leporello's statistics. "Surely this is masculine exaggeration." said
Rosina [the Countess] . " Anyhow, so do they all. You may be sure that the
Count is no monk." Rosina, however, did not hesitate to spread the word about
Don Juan and mention the source of her information.**
**Thus the conspirators learned of a possible ally who might help them bring
retribution to Don Juan.The elderly grandee, Don Emilio del Toboso called on
Doña Elvira, both as a social call and after sounding her out about her
feelings toward Don Juan to ask her to meet with others of like mind at his
palace.**
**Don Juan had not bothered to have Leporello keep an eye on Doña Elvira's
activities. So, he was unaware that Doña Elvira had met with five men who
intended to inflict a most grievous revenge upon him. The plan was for Doña
Elvira to appear to have forgiven Don Juan and still to be smitten with love
for him.**
**When he had fallen asleep _post coitum_ , she was to give a signal for them
to fall upon him and do the deed. The exact nature of the punishment which
they had in mind they would not divulge to her, though they assured her that
it was their intention that he should survive and live a long unhappy life
afterward.**
**Doña Elvira had her maidservant, Zerbinetta, who was enamored of**
**Leporello, to send him a note asking him to meet her in the square and also
mentioning that Doña Elvira had forgiven Don Juan and was**
**pining for just one** **night of love with him.**
**This would assure that, if Don Juan did visit Doña Elvira, Leporello would
not be there to stand guard. Don Juan was flattered that, even after learning
the nasty truth about him, Doña Elvira was still mad about him. He could not
resist such an appeal. Don Juan sent her a note by way of Leporello suggesting
that she leave the lattice of her bedroom window open. This also gave
Leporello a chance to assure Zerbinetta that he would meet her in the square.
Doña Elvira replied (also via Leporello) that she would expect Don Juan at the
tenth hour. She sent a note to the same effect to Don Emilio del Toboso.**
**At the chime of the bell in the great bell tower for the half-hour after the
ninth hour. Don Juan and Leporello parted at his door. Don Juan knew well the
house which Doña Elvira had rented. He had climbed to the balcony outside the
lady's bedroom window before the present owner of the house had been made a
widow by his sword. Don Juan scrambled up vines and architectural ornaments to
the balcony and into the bedroom where Doña Elvira awaited him nude under a
sheet.**
**His doublet, shirt, hose, and shoes were off in less time than it takes to
tell of it. However, eager he might be, though, Don Juan knew well the value
of foreplay and controlled himself while arousing Doña Elvira to such a frenzy
of passion that almost she regretted agreeing to betray him to the five
cuckolds.**
**The conspirators had a long wait. That should not have surprised them for
Don Juan's sexual prowess was legendary as their wives could , no doubt,
attest. He gave the clitoris no rest, constantly stimulating it either with
the glans penis or, while the entire 10 2/3 digitæ [eight inches] of his
_miembro viril_ was couched within her, with his index finger. Skilfully, he
varied the depth and frequency of his thrusts** **always introducing an
element of unpredictability.**
**Don Juan was as skilled with his tongue as with his _miembro viril_. No
woman whom he had ever kissed ever forgot the experience. His tongue and the
edges of his teeth, applied gently and subtly to the nipples and areoles of
Doña Elvira's breasts drove her wild. Doña Elvira was especially skilled in
the use of her vaginal muscles, relaxing during the thrusts and tightening
them upon withdrawal, so that it felt as if her vagina was sucking his
member.**
**It was an unforgettable sexual experience for both of them, but finally,
with a satiated smile upon his lips, Don Juan dropped off into deep slumber.
Doña Elvira rose silently, went out onto the balcony and rang a small bell.
She had left the door to the garden unlocked and, through it, the five
conspirators, cloaked and masked in black, entered the house.**
**Entering the bedroom, they drew off the sheet which Doña Elvira had thrown
over Don Juan's naked form. Four of the men seized him by his arms and legs.
Of course, exhausted as he was, though Don Juan struggled, it was to no avail.
They had only to hold him for a moment, just long enough for the fifth man to
take ahold of Don Juan's _miembro viril_ with his left hand and, with one
slash of his dagger, cut it off flush with his belly. His _cojones_ were left
to maintain the fire of his lust which he could never again satisfy. **
**Too late to help, Leporello returned from his tryst with Zerbinetta in time
to see five men run from the house and hear Don Giovanni's anguished cries.
Grief stricken at what she had helped them do, Doña Elvira was sobbing
uncontrollably. Leporello ran to the nearby house of Figaro Bartolo, a barber
of quality and the best in the city. [NOTE: in the seveteenth century,
physicians considered the messy business of surgery to be beneath their
dignity, and it was generally left to barbers.]**
**Figaro paused only long enough to gather his instruments and a special
catheter which his father Dr. Francisco Bartolo had designed for just such
cases as this. It took a while to blow up the fire in his charcoal brazier to
heat the cautery . While waiting for it, he washed the stump of Don Juan's
member with strong vinegar and then inserted the catheter which had a bulb at
the end to be inserted, so that the tissues could be sewn together around it
and it could not come out again. The cautery was curved downward through an
angle of about 135º to facilitate passage of urine in a more-or-less natural
manner.**
**Figaro carefully stitched the tissues around the catheter and then , after
cutting away the pubic hair which would interfere with healing he cauterised
the stump of the _miembro viril_ as close to the catheter as he could without
burning the stitches. To stop the bleeding from razor cuts, Figaro had long
used an astringent made from zinc dissolved in strong vinegar this he applied
wherever there was bleeding. It was quite effective, as he had always found it
to be. **
**Figaro had his own servants bring his litter and in it carefully carry Don
Juan back to his own house, promising to send his father, Dr. Bartolo in the
morning to treat Don Juan for inflammation and fever, if any.**
**Thus, at the age of 36, the greatest lover in the world was deprived of the
means to make love to any woman ever again, but left with the burning passion
to do so.** **The five cuckolded husbands spread the story of Don Juan's
mutilation and quickly he became a laughing-stock among the menfolk. The
women, on the other hand, were nearly as heartbroken as Don Juan himself.**
**Don Juan returned to his ancestral home at Marana and went into seclusion.
Little is known of his later life. It has been said that he went mad, but it
has also been said that he joined a monastery. Neither can be confirmed. All
that is certain is that he died at the age of 72.**
* * * |
The Lycian Prince 51 | GAY, NULLIFICATION, MINOR | Anthonius has an unfortunate brief encounter on the way back to the boy brothel. | ` Chapter 51 - Rape `
Anthonius proceeded carefully along the quiet dark streets of Rome, naked and
hands tied behind his back. His beautiful body displayed its full
ornamentation, the Ganymede medallion, the gold nipple and cock rings, the
eagles branded round his tits, just above his genitals, on his upper front
thighs, in the side hollows of his buttocks, as well as squarely in the middle
of each bumcheeck and on his upper arms, hands and feet. A small circle of
branded intertwined snakes surrounded his navel, a memento from his African
adventure. Streaks of drying semen decorated the boy’s chin and inside legs.
The delicious spectacle was completed by the sight of his erect cock pointing
his direction. The lad was scared but also strangely excited by his
predicament. There would still be people about at this early hour, because the
city never went completely to sleep, and more would soon spill into the
thoroughfares with the imminent arrival of dawn.
Anthonius hoped that he would both remember the route back to the brothel and
avoid being observed on the way. If anyone did see him, the boy trusted that
they would just laugh at him but he was afraid that some might take liberties.
His fear was to be substantiated for, as he came round an alleyway corner,
suddenly in front were two soldiers, one with a drawn sword in his hand and
the other carrying a flaming torch. They had been looking for a reported
burglar but decided to abandon the search temporarily because the surprised
nude Anthonius was just too late in jumping into the shadows of a doorway. The
soldiers approached the lad.
“What have we got here?" the ugly bearded and smelly swordsman asked,
surveying the lovely scene. “Just returning to the ‘House of Ganymede, sir,”
answered a tremulous Anthonius, “after visiting a client.” The man, lifting
the point of his sword so that it was level with the boy's throat, responded
“A high class, well-decorated and conveniently packaged boy whore, eh. I was
hoping to enjoy a cheaper one of your kind at another much less posh
establishment later. Do you give free samples, whore?” The sword tip was now
pressed against the lad’s thyroid as his body was forced against the door
behind.
Anthonius, voice quaking, managed to respond “Not usually, sir!” The soldier’s
mouth started to ooze lustful spittle. “You’re a nice juicy little animal,”
the man declared, whilst examining the dried sperm on the boy’s chin and legs
and viewing the lad’s hard penis, “who’s already obviously enjoyed a lot of
cock tonight but seems desperate for more. Turn round!” His chosen victim
reluctantly obliged.
“That bum’s crying out for a another good fucking!” the soldier crudely
announced, whilst feeling the fine orbs with his free hand. Anthonius’ penis
started to drool precum and rise to the vertical. “You’ll give me a free
taste, won’t you whore?” The man, reaching round to fondle the boy’s damp
erection, added “In fact, I think you’re desperate to give me a free treat,
aren’t you whore?” The lad did not answer until he felt the sword tip press
against his sphincter after the hand had been withdrawn and the last question
was repeated.
“Yes, sir,” Anthonius was obliged to say. The boy now felt his rope bondage
being severed by the sword before being ordered “Then brace yourself against
the door, splay your legs and push your bum out. Of course mine won’t be the
first cock you've had inside you but it may be one of the biggest!" As the lad
began to assume the required degrading position, he peeked around and his
horrified eyes saw the soldier pass the sword to his companion before dropping
his loincloth and pulling back the front of his tunic to reveal a truly
massive penis.
The soldier spat on his hand and rubbed saliva over his erection, whilst
asking his colleague "Do you want a go after me?” "You can have sole use of
the whore," the second man replied, "I prefer them without cocks and balls
between their legs. Just get on with it as we don't want the centurion
catching you having fun when on duty!" "Well there's no accounting for taste,”
the rapist answered sarcastically, “though I think you’re fussy for this one’s
got so little between his legs that you can hardly tell what he is.” The man
laughed at his own joke before returning his attention to his humiliated and
terrified victim, commanding “Now, whore, get your legs wide apart, bum fully
out and brace yourself as I've told you once already!" The man reinforced this
order with an open handed hard clout across Anthonius' raw rump, causing the
boy to yelp with pain.
Anthonius knew there was no escape. He had to submit if he was to survive for
he was sure that the soldiers would have no compunction in running him through
with the weapon, thinking up their reasons later if anyone noticed. Obediently
he splayed his legs, bent forward, rested his hands palm down against the door
and pushed his bottom up, offering it to the soldier. The man licked his index
finger, ran it down the cleft of the boy's bum and then jabbed it hard into
him. The lad gasped as more pain hit him.
The finger was withdrawn and Anthonius soon felt the head of the soldier's
huge cock pressing against the remarkably tight lips of his young anus. The
man dug his thumbs into the raw flesh of the boy's buttocks before viciously
prizing the lad open as the penis forced a passage past the sphincter. The
rapist grasped Anthonius’ hips, pulling him back as he thrust forward and
burying his throbbing cock to it's hilt. The boy’s shrill screams echoed down
the alleyway. The lad had been sodomised many times before but never quite as
cruelly.
This, Anthonius thought, as the pain tore through him, is how a slave is
truly, using the soldier’s plebeian terminology, fucked. The man withdrew and
then drove forward again and the former Prince could feel the rapist’s coarse
dirty pubic hair rubbing against his smooth buttocks. Impaled on the soldier’s
pulsating cock, it seemed to the lad as though his whole body was being split
open from his rectum upwards.
As the action proceeded, several parties of late revellers, men and women,
staggered past, all pausing to take in the sight of a young boy being
malevolently sodomised by a member of the Roman garrison. Without exception,
they presumed that the lad had not succumbed voluntarily but no-one gave any
consideration to intervening. It was simply too dangerous to question the
actions of soldiers and anyway the youngster probably deserved his fate for
being out alone on the streets at such a time. Most therefore just laughed,
whilst watching a bit of the spectacle before moving on.
The soldier suddenly thrust forward with such force that he lifted Anthonius’
feet from the ground, ramming him head first against the door. The heads of
some people, wakened by the racket, appeared at a few of the windows above and
opposite but all, like the passers-by, simply took a glance at proceedings
before returning to their original activities.
Anthonius eventually felt the soldier come deep inside him, the man holding
the boy firmly in place as he completed his orgasm. When the soldier finally
let go, the lad tumbled to the floor at his rapist’s feet. The quietly sobbing
Anthonius, semen oozing again out of his ravaged hole, was left in peace
momentarily before kicks thudded into his ribcage. "Get up whore," the soldier
shouted, "your job’s only half done. Lick your filth off me, you lump of dog
turd!"
The soldier seized Anthonius by his hair and hauled him up onto his knees. The
boy could see the man's obnoxious cock, covered with blood and cum, hanging
limply just in front of his face. Automatically, the revolted lad pulled
backwards. "Oh, too high class a whore to do your duty by the men of the
garrison of Rome are you slut?” the rapist teased before addressing his
companion, “Just let the little gentleman feel the point of my sword would
you." As he complied, the smirking colleague advised “The whore came himself
when you were having him. His belly and chest, and the doorway, are covered
with his sperm, which is also still dribbling from his prick.” After checking
for himself, the rapist declared “You really have found your true vocation,
haven’t you whore?”
Anthonius hoped to escape answering but the second soldier pressed the sword
tip more firmly into his back, causing some blood to erupt from the skin. The
boy therefore replied hesitatingly “Yes, sir, I’m a truly sluttish whore!”
Further pressure on the sword hurried the lad into bending forward to lick and
suck the filth from the rapist’s odorous limp member.
After a while, the soldier grabbed hold of Anthonius’ hair again and, pulling
the boy’s head back, announced "That's clean enough, whore" before driving his
knee into the lad's face. Anthonius shrieked and fell backwards, covering his
face with open hands and blood squirted out between his fingers. "Come on,
you've had your fun," the rapist’s companion finally suggested, "and there’s a
thief to try to catch before I go to find some nice young female cunt. Redress
and take your sword!”
"Still think you’re too fussy," his friend replied before they moved off
together, “the boy whore’s tight pussy was better than any girl’s!”
(To be continued in Chapter 52 – ‘Destiny’)
Author’s Note
This chapter is included to honour the talemaster, Zelamir, to whom, if you
recall from Chapter 1 of ‘The Lycian Prince’, this whole saga is dedicated.
His stories inspired me to write. The chapter is actually an authorised
adaptation of one in ‘A Roman Holiday’ by Zelamir. His superbly descriptive
and researched tales relate to similar themes as my own, i.e. boys and their
travails, but do not usually include eunuchs or castration scenes and will not
therefore appear at eunuch.org. However, if anyone is unaware of Zelamir’s
sagas and would like to know more, they can contact me in the first instance
and I should be happy to provide details.
Pueros
* * * |
Wie ich letzten Sommer kastriert wurde | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES | Wie ich letzten Sommer von 5 Frauen zur Strafe kastriert wurde. | Neulich fuhr ich zum baden an den See. Dort angekommen bemerkte ich auf der
gegenüberliegenden Seite einige Mädels beim Nacktbaden.
Da ich lange Weile hatte, beschloß ich mir die Szenerie aus der Nähe
anzusehen. Vielleicht war ja eine dabei, die ich kannte.
Wochentags war ja nicht soviel los, zumindest war außer uns weit und breit
niemand zu sehen. Ich versteckte mich also hinter ein paar Büschen, genoß die
Aussicht und hoffte nicht bemerkt zu werden.
Leider konnte ich nicht verstehen, über was sie sich unterhielten:
„Hast Du auch den Typen bemerkt, der sich gerade angeschlichen hat ?“ – „Na
klar, das war ja nicht zu übersehen.“
„Mein Gott, schon wieder so ein scheiß Spanner. Hat man vor den Typen denn nie
Ruhe?“ – „Irgendwie sollte man was dagegen unternehmen. Ich meine wer weiß,
heute schaut er nur zu und Morgen, da vergewaltigt er womöglich noch eine?“ –
„Ja, aber was willst Du dagegen machen?“
„Also ich finde ja, so einer gehört eigentlich kastriert, damit er nichts
dergleichen mehr anstellen kann!“
„Du hast ja recht, aber wie soll man so was denn machen?“ – „Also bei uns auf
dem Reiterhof, da werden ja hin und wieder mal Hengste kastriert. Und ich hab
da schon öfter zugeschaut: denen werden erst die Eier abgebunden und dann
werden die einfach weg gezwickt. Die kriegen da keine Betäubung oder so.“
„Also was meint Ihr Mädels, sollen wir uns den Kerl mal vorknöpfen?“ – „Na
klar, ich meine wir sind immerhin zu fünft und es ist weit und breit keiner
da.“ – „OK, dann bleibt Ihr beide erstmal hier liegen um ihn abzulenken, und
wir drei tun so, als würden wir was aus dem Auto holen. Außerdem hab ich im
Handschubfach eine alte Gaspistole liegen, die von einer Echten nicht zu
unterscheiden ist. Mit der können wir ihn erst mal bedrohen, bis wir ihn
gefesselt haben.“ – „Super, na dann los!“
Ich sah, wie sich nach einiger Zeit drei von ihnen etwas anzogen und zu ihrem
Auto gingen. Da die beiden anderen aber liegen blieben, nahm ich an sie würden
wohl bald wieder zurück kommen. Das sollte sich alsbald als fataler Irrtum
herausstellen.
Auf einmal sah ich mich von drei gut aussehenden Frauen umstellt, wobei mich
eine von ihnen mit einer Knarre bedrohte. Mir wurden mit einem Expander die
Hände gefesselt, dann brachten sie mich zu den anderen beiden. Jetzt zogen
auch sie sich etwas an, zwangen mich hingegen dazu, mich auszuziehen. Während
dessen beschimpften sie mich:
„Du geile Drecksau, dachtest wohl Du kriegst hier ‚ne gratis Peep-Show
geboten? – Auf so’n perversen Spanner wie Dich haben wir gerade noch gewartet.
Womöglich hättest Du anschließend noch einer von uns aufgelauert? Drei mal
darfst Du raten, was jetzt mit Dir passiert.“
Ich antwortete: „Ihr werdet mir wohl jetzt ‚ne Abreibung verpassen, wie’s
aussieht:“
„Nicht nur das“ antwortete Karin „Wir werden sogar dafür sorgen, daß Dir ein
für alle mal die Lust am spannen vergeht und Du gar nicht erst in die
Versuchung kommst, in Zukunft mal eine zu vergewaltigen. Zur Strafe wirst Du
jetzt kastriert.“ – „Genau“ meinte Claudia „wir schneiden Dir jetzt Deine Eier
ab, mitsamt dem Sack!“ – „Du wirst sehen“ meinte Petra „das tut guuuut“
während sie genüßlich grinste.
Dann reichte sie mir einen meiner Schnürsenkel, mit der Aufforderung mir damit
die Eier im Sack abzubinden, im eigenen Interesse, wie sie sagte. Nachdem ich
das getan hatte, stand mir der Schwanz mittlerweile vor lauter Aufregung wie
eine Eins.
„Jetzt schau sich doch einer diese geile Sau an.“ „Da steht ihm doch
tatsächlich noch sein Schwanz, obwohl er ganz genau weis, daß wir ihm jetzt
seine Eier abschneiden werden?“
„Womöglich gefällt ihm das ganze sogar noch, he!?“ – „Na wartet Mädels, dem
werden wir helfen. Ich glaub, dem müssen wir erst einmal seine Triebdrüsen
kräftig drosseln, bevor wir sie ihm weg schneiden.“
„Was meinst Du damit, Karin?“ fragte die Eine. „Na denk doch mal nach,
Claudia. Ich meine er hat seinen Spaß gehabt und jetzt sind wir an der Reihe.
Die Dinger einfach abschneiden geht doch viel zu schnell. Deshalb schlage ich
vor, daß wir ihn vorher erst mal so richtig aus-sackeln. Du wirst sehen, das
wird ein Spaß. Und wenn er erst mal so einen richtigen Satz Rühreier in seinem
Sack hat, wird er noch geradezu darum betteln, daß wir sie ihm endlich
abschneiden.“
Mir wurde Angst und Bange: „Bitte nicht Mädels! Ihr glaubt ja gar nicht, wie
weh das tut.“
„Das soll ja weh tun“ meinte Karin. Dann mußte ich mich hinknien und nach
vorne beugen. Da ich mich nun auf allen Vieren am Boden befand und meine Eier
ja abgebunden waren, schoben sich diese (bedingt durch mein nach vorne beugen)
nach hinten durch meine Schenkel, so daß man von der Rückseite betrachtet
einen prächtigen Blick auf meinen prallen abgebundenen Sack haben mußte.
Alsbald trat mir die erste von ihnen auch schon mit voller Wucht in die Eier,
so das ich mitunter spürte wie sich die Schnürsenkel in meinen Sack schnürten.
Das natürlich nur am Rande, denn in erster Linie konnte ich vor lauter Eier-
Schmerzen zunächst keine Luft kriegen, weshalb ich auch nur ein leises
unterdrücktes „OOhhhhh“ raus bekam.
Die, welche zu getreten hatte, deutete das spottender Weise als ein lustvolles
Stöhnen und meinte: „Na, was hab ich Euch gesagt, dem gefällt das sogar noch.
Also Schwestern, dann laßt uns mal loslegen!“ Nachdem sie das gesagt hatte,
kniete sie sich hinter mich hin, packte sich meinen Sack, und drückte volle
Kanne zu.
Eine nach der anderen kam einmal damit dran, mich „auszusackeln“, wie sie es
nannten. Es tat höllisch weh und wurde von einer zur anderen schlimmer, wenn
sie mir die Eier quetschten oder in sie rein schlugen. Während die eine zu
gange war, wurde ich von mindestens zwei der anderen festgehalten und der Kopf
nach unten gedrückt. Und sie schienen wirklich großen Spaß daran zu haben,
ihrem Gelächter und ihren Kommentaren nach zu schließen. Ich versuchte zu
schreien, bekam aber vor Schmerzen immer nur ein „Aahhh“ und/oder „Oohhh“
raus. Meine Bitte endlich aufzuhören, erntete natürlich nur Hohn und Spott.
Nach einiger Zeit hielt ich es nicht mehr länger aus und begann wirklich darum
zu flehen, dem ein Ende zu machen und mir die Eier endlich abzuschneiden.
„Bitte bitte, schneidet sie doch endlich ab! – tut mir doch bitte endlich den
Gefallen, und schneidet mir die verdammten Eier ab, ich halt’s nicht mehr
aus!“ so flehte ich sie vergeblich an.
„Ach wißt Ihr, Mädels“ sagte Karin, „das gibt bloß eine Sauerei, wenn wir ihm
den Sack abschneiden. Und wenn er am Ende dadurch verblutet, haben wir nachher
noch einen haufen Ärger am Hals. Ich schlage vor, ich knack jetzt die Dinger“
Dann kniete sie sich noch einmal hinter mich und gab mir schließlich den Rest:
sie packte noch einmal kräftig zu, indem sie meine Eier zwischen ihren Daumen
und ihren gebogenen Mittelfinger nahm und beide wie ein Schraubstock zusammen
preßte.
Da sie meinen Sack dabei auch noch leicht hin und her rüttelte, mußte ich
trotz höllischer Schmerzen auch noch abspritzen. Genau in dem Moment, als ich
merkte, wie mir im Sack gleichzeitig beide Eier zerplatzten. Ein letztes mal
stöhnte ich laut vor Schmerzen.
„Ja, ich denke auch, der hat genug. Dem läuft ja schon der Samen aus“ meinte
Claudia, die daneben stand und sich vor lachen kaum halten konnte.
„Doch, Du hast recht. Die Eier sind hin, total leer gequetscht. Damit kann er
wirklich nichts mehr anfangen.“ antwortete Karin grinsend.
„Aber mal ‚ne andere Frage“ meinte Sabrina: „was passiert denn dann nun
eigentlich mit seinen Eiern, jetzt wo sie zerquetscht sind?“
„Keine Ahnung“ meinte Petra „vielleicht fangen sie ja an zu faulen im seinem
Sack. Wenn nicht anders muß er halt zum Arzt oder ins Krankenhaus gehen und
sie sich von denen dort abschneiden lassen?“
„Soll auf jeden Fall nicht unser Problem sein“ meinte Christine abschließend:
„Wir hatten auf jeden Fall unseren Spaß und er hat’s nicht anders verdient.
Und anstellen kann er in Zukunft auch nichts mehr.“
Dann schnitten sie mir die Fesseln auf, packten ihre Klamotten ins Auto und
ließen mich vor Schmerzen gekrümmt am Boden liegend zurück. Irgendwann
schleppte ich mich zu meinem Auto und fuhr nach Hause. Es tat noch tagelang
danach höllisch weh.
Da ich die Befürchtung hatte, am Ende auch noch Eierkrebs zu bekommen und mir
das ganze natürlich furchtbar peinlich war, fuhr ich in eine andere Stadt und
ließ mir die Eier (bzw. was davon übrig war) von einer Ärztin fachgerecht
wegschneiden.
Als meine Freundin davon erfuhr, war sie natürlich stinksauer und hat mich bis
auf weiteres erst mal verlassen. Meine Eier waren beide total geplatzt und ich
bin seit dieser Zeit natürlich impotent. Das war meine Strafe dafür das ich
heimlich diesen geilen Schlampen beim Nacktbaden zugeschaut habe. Praktisch
wurde ich gemeinsam von diesen Furien langsam und genüßlich kastriert. Sie
hatten dabei offenbar großes Vergnügen, was ich von mir leider nicht behaupten
konnte.
* * * |
The Traitor's Son 22 | GAY, WARNING, TESTICLES, MINOR | Herewith are the next chapters of the saga of Marius, son of the traitor, Sejanus. The story is by Zelamir but has been adapted, with the author’s permission and oversight, for eunuch.org by Pueros. | THE TRAITOR’S SON
By Zelamir, adapted by Pueros
Chapter 22
“Still, if you have to risk your life for the sake of a few measly sesterces,
take him to Scyrax,” Balbinus next suggested. “His house is in the eleventh
district near the Circus Maximus,” the merchant added, “and his expertise is
in lucratively preparing special boys for market. He should give you a fair
price for a pretty brat who’s still a virgin, especially as, unlike me, he
won’t know his background.”
“Fair price?” Crastus queried before complaining “Just like the one you gave
me for the silver goblets!” “Fair for something you apparently don’t want to
sell on the open market,” Balbinus coldly retorted. “Anyway,” the merchant
continued, “I’m providing added value because my advice about Scyrax is free,
and so is my willingness to keep my mouth shut about the brat’s background!”
“Fair enough!” Crastus quipped in response before, shortly afterwards, leaving
the Emporium with Marius, who was still closely watched and frequently kicked
by Pulchellus and was too tired and dispirited to respond to such mischief.
The threesome headed for Rome’s eleventh district.
A tall blank wall, broken only by a massive metal studded wooden door, fronted
Scyrax’s immense house. Crastus marched up to the entrance but discovered that
there was no latch to open it.
Crastus pushed at the door but found it unyielding. He therefore hammered the
heavy knocker, the shape of which he thought amusing because it was in the
form of a large phallus.
Crastus was about to use the knocker again when a small panel set high up in
the centre of the door swung open. “Who is it and what do you want?” a deep
voice subsequently enquired from the other side.
“My name is Crastus,” the eponymous man announced, “and I wish to see Scyrax.
I have a boy whom he might like to buy!”
Crastus simultaneously squinted upwards, trying to sight the person who had
addressed him. However, the spy hole was so small and so high that he could
only see an eye and a small area of almost coal black skin.
“My Lord Scyrax does not deal with casual peddlers of boy flesh,” the voice
then declared contemptuously, whilst the panel began to close. “But Balbinus
sent me,” Crastus retorted desperately.
Crastus was rewarded when, after a brief hesitation, the voice next instructed
“Wait!” The panel then slammed shut.
Crastus complied and subsequently waited patiently, as the busy life of the
street outside Scyrax’s walled domain flowed past him and the two boys in his
company, until the door eventually swung open. A huge black African stood just
inside the entrance, whose oiled and hairless bare chest and massive muscled
arms glistening darkly like polished ebony.
“Which is the brat for sale?” the black man now asked, as he viewed two very
pretty boys, one clean and dressed decently in a short tunic and another dirty
and naked. “This one!” Crastus answered, whilst grabbing hold of the filthy
nude Marius.
“Then enter,” the black man next ordered. Crastus compliantly stepped through
the doorway with Marius in his firm grip. Pulchellus moved to follow them but
the African put one large hand on the boy’s chest and pushed him away, causing
him to stagger backwards and lose his balance.
Pulchellus fell over in the street. From this perspective, the boy
subsequently watched helplessly as, without another word, the fierce black man
slammed the door shut.
Crastus and Marius were led through a narrow garden before coming to stand in
a long and wide pillared hallway. An intricate and rich mosaic, decorated with
scenes from the gladiatorial arena, now stretched along the floor in front of
them.
Immediately ahead, two naked boy gladiators fought to the death. One was a
retiarius, who had entangled his swordsman opponent with his net and was on
the point of plunging his barbed trident into the loser’s young form. Further
on, more youngsters combated each other or wild animals in a confusion of bare
limbs and bleeding bodies.
The walls were also covered by expertly executed frescoes. On one side of the
hallway, a forest was depicted in which naked pretty boys played amongst the
trees. On the other, the goddess Diana, bare breasted and wild haired, was
pictured with her hounds in full cry, with the great black beasts exhibiting
glowing eyes and sharp white teeth.
These themes were replicated on the surface of the pillars, which formed a
double row down the centre of the hallway. However, whilst Crastus’ intrigued
eyes and brain were still struggling to take in the plethora of decoration
presented to their view, a real boy, about the same age as Marius and as
beautiful and almost as naked as any portrayed in the murals, materialised out
of the shadows at his side.
The boy, whose only attire was a tiny white thong, said nothing but, bowing
deeply, instead turned and accepted from the black man the duty of leading
Crastus and Marius further along the hall. As he did so, tiny bells on a thin
silver chain about one slim ankle tinkled as he walked.
As Crastus and Marius followed, they noticed that three angry red welts marred
the smooth curves of the boy’s bottom. The child had been obviously recently
been hit and marked by a rod.
As they passed down the hallway, Crastus noticed that the theme of the wall
paintings was subtly changing. Men then satyrs, who were half human and half
beast, now appeared in the forest, joining the boys in their games.
At first, such games appeared innocent. However, the activities gradually
became more gross until, at the far end of the hallway, men and satyrs, both
with monstrous phalluses, were depicted penetrating the tender bottoms of the
boys. Mingled in this scene of cruel debauchery were the hounds of Diana, who
had caught and pulled down their young prey, the beautiful Acteon.
The boy eventually ushered Crastus and Marius into a central courtyard, where
a wide marble colonnade surrounded a spacious garden. Fountains played here,
and the sun glinted on ponds in whose depths exotic fish cruised lazily.
Lounging on a couch in a shady vine-covered pergola was an enormously fat man.
Beside him knelt a dark curly haired boy, about 10 years old and also only
wearing a tiny white thong, who was holding ready for his master a heavily
chased silver bowl.
Crastus watched as the fat man reach out and took from the bowl a fig dipped
in honey. He then lifted the fruit to his mouth and chewed.
Viewing the scene and his surrounds, Crastus thought to himself that being a
merchant, whose expertise was, using Balbinus’ own words, ‘in lucratively
preparing special boys for market’, certainly paid for Scyrax. He also
wondered if he himself was in the wrong business.
The fat man, honey dribbling down his chin, now caught sight of Crastus. He
immediately licked his fingers and wiped them clean on the little boy’s black
curls.
“Crastus, sent by my friend Balbinus, I believe,” the fat man now announced
without moving from his couch. He next asked, in a voice that was soft and
full of breath like a breeze gently ruffling dead leaves in a winter wood, “In
what way can the humble Scyrax assist you?”
Crastus, however, did not answer this question immediately. He could not help
instead making a complimentary comment about the opulence of the residence in
which Scyrax lived.
“Well,” Scyrax began to reply in untruthful explanation to Crastus’ kind
remark, “I am actually a rather humble man who would love to live in much
plainer and simpler circumstances. However, my trade concentrates on preparing
slaveboys with clear potential, but who are sadly also mainly from deprived
backgrounds, for the most esteemed homes. I consequently need to train them in
how to respect, act in and treat such opulent surrounds and the exalted people
present in them. Doing so in less splendid premises than I have here would
undermine the accuracy of their education and therefore threaten my reputation
and the value of my products, so I must sacrifice my natural reserve and
frugality in the interests of good commerce!”
Crastus did not, of course, believe a word of Crastus’ explanation. To him,
the fat man, whom he had caught lounging on the couch in opulent surrounds,
which were made even more exotic by the beautiful scantily-clad boys attending
him, clearly revelled in his lifestyle. However, as he hoped imminently to
complete a lucrative transaction with the trader in young male flesh, he chose
not to contest the issue.
The intrigued Crastus instead asked “How many brats do you train at one time,
what age are they and how long do they take to be readied for market?” “The
answer to all three parts of your question,” Scyrax replied, “is that the
situation varies.”
“I only buy brats who are very beautiful and intelligent,” Scyrax continued,
“both of which attributes are considered essential by my normal clientele. The
boys also need to be easily mouldable into the types of compliant efficient
menial and catamite demanded by my customers. Such creatures aren’t common, as
many young male sluts who come onto the market are often unattractive in terms
of at least one of looks, brains or behaviour. My stock can therefore vary
considerably. I currently have about forty, which is rather low.”
“I also retain a few of the best boys,” Scyrax added, “at least until I tire
of them, to supplement my adult servants. I do so for two reasons. First,
their example, when performing their duties for me, assists the instruction of
the trainees. As for the second motive, I’m sure that you can guess what that
is, Crastus!”
Crastus certainly could guess Scyrax’s second motive. The fat man was clearly
as much a pederast as were obviously many of his clientele.
“The brats vary considerably in age,” Scyrax next advised, “as the tastes of
my clientele differ from infants to youths. I don’t mind such diversity, as I
have broad personal preferences. The youngest of my present stock is 5 and the
oldest 16 years old.”
“As for the length of training required to ready the brats for market,” Scyrax
proceeded to inform, “this also varies and is related to two factors. First is
their ability to absorb instruction and thereby become efficient at whatever
skill they’re being taught, for use in or out of their future master’s or
mistress’ bed, and second is their behaviour.” The fat man then produced a
long black rod, or ‘ferula’, from under his couch and announced “Naturally, I
have ways in which to enforce discipline, and this implement only represents
one of them, as there are far worse methods to encourage obedience available
to me!”
Crastus immediately remembered the boy who had led him and Marius to the
courtyard and was still nearby. He supposed that the young slave provided an
example of the disciplinary regime of Scyrax, who was clearly as much a sadist
as a pederast. The youngster must just have earned the stripes that besmirched
his bare bottom from the fat man’s rod for some recent minor misdemeanour.
Marius, who was listening to the conversation, also made the same link. He
instantly decided that, if Scyrax bought him, he would try his best to be a
very good boy in his future relationship with his new master.
“I would guess,” Scyrax went on to inform, “that the average brat of humble
background needs a couple of months here before he’s ready to sell at the
weekly boy auction in the slave market of the Emporium. I always circulate
news in advance of the impending sale because there’s inevitably great
interest in my products!”
Crastus had also become further intrigued by Scyrax’s reference to a potential
‘mistress’ for the slaveboys. He therefore enquired “Do you sell many of the
brats to women!” “Oh yes,” the fat man responded, “as many patrician females
like pretty boys to serve them and sometimes, for those who can somehow
maintain relevant secrecy or don’t mind being the centre of scandalous gossip,
service them sexually.”
“However, if the latter sexual service is not a requirement,” Scyrax advised
ominously, much to Marius’ horror, “the brats are often castrated for both
safety and decorum. Such gelding removes the possibility of the boys becoming
too sexually excited about the females in the household and prevents the
potential scandalous gossip that might arise for the mistress if their balls
are not taken away!”
“Anyway, enough of idle chatter,” Scyrax next suggested, now being impatient
to conclude matters after spying the naked but filthy Marius, “I am told that
you have a brat whom you want to sell.” The fat man subsequently mischievously
added “Where is he?”
Crastus, initially perplexed by Scyrax’s inability to identify Marius as the
object for sale, pushed the naked 11 year-old forward, whilst declaring “This
is the boy!” However, the fat man did not appear or sound impressed.
“This is a boy?” Scyrax sighed in apparent disbelief, as his little pig-like
eyes focused on Marius. The fat man saw a dirty, exhausted, dispirited, half
-starved, naked 11 year-old, whose knees and shins were grazed and cut. He
therefore added “The brat looks more like an animal to me!” However, his
insult was only commercial, being the first step in negotiating the price that
he would eventually pay for the youngster, whom he knew he must buy.
Scyrax had astutely seen beyond the surface dirt. He recognised that, under
the filth, was a nicely proportioned boy, with firm well-rounded limbs, a
delicately neat ribcage, cute nipples and navel, pert dimpled bottom, golden
hair and a face that, if the encrusting grime was washed away, could make a
pederast’s heart melt.
Scyrax had noticed these attributes and had also correctly judged that the few
current imperfections were only superficial and could easily be rectified.
However, he was a businessman, a trader in high-class boy-flesh, who made his
fortune by buying cheap and selling dear.
“Why should I be bothered with a low-quality brat like this?” Scyrax
consequently sneered, as he pursued his usual negotiating technique. “Clean
him up and feed him a bit, get some of the bloom back on him,” Crastus
countered, “and he’ll make a first class whore. He’s currently a virgin but I
can also confirm that he’s a hot little bitch, who’s desperate to have a man’s
cock inside him!”
“Of course he’s a virgin,” Scyrax scoffed in return, “as who’d want to fuck
him?” Crastus, who was now regretting not having cleaned Marius up a bit to
curtail such haggling, immediately began to continue his counter-argument.
However, the fat man interrupted him.
“All right,” Scyrax sighed, whilst feigning weariness with the argument,
“since I let you bring the brat into the house, I might as well take a closer
look at him. However, I only hope that I don’t catch a disease of some sort
through handling him!”
Turning to Marius, who was feeling rather numb in reaction to the words said
about him, Scyrax subsequently commanded, whilst awkwardly clambering to his
feet from the couch, where he left his rod, “Come here brat!” In response,
Crastus untied the cord that still tied the boy’s wrists together behind his
back and unlocked and removed his demeaning chastity device. He then pushed
the naked 11 year-old further towards the fat man.
Marius compliantly walked the rest of the distance without any more prompting
and was soon standing before the leering Scyrax. On the way, the boy had
rubbed his wrists, which were almost red-raw and very sore because of their
recent bondage, but now his hands protectively covered his genitals.
Such manual protection proved brief because Scyrax quickly knocked Marius’
hands to his sides. “If you know what’s good for you, never hide anything from
me, brat,” the fat man simultaneously advised, “especially your delightful
private parts whenever you’re naked!”
Scyrax then took Marius’ chin in his chubby left hand and tipped the boy’s
head back, forcing him to stare up into the fat man’s face. The 11 year-old
immediately detected the adult’s musty breath, whose staleness was not quite
masked by the sweet smell of the honey he had been eating, and his rather
obnoxious natural sweaty odour, which was not disguised by the copious
perfumes that he applied to his obese form.
The fingers of Scyrax’s right hand next began to stray over Marius’ head. The
fat man’s careful examination caused him to feel and part the boy’s normally
silky but currently dusty straight golden hair, pull up his eyelids and twist
back his ears.
Scyrax simultaneously quizzed Crastus about Marius’ origins. The boy’s seller
had, of course anticipated such questioning and so had already prepared a
cover story.
Crastus also believed that Balbinus’ fears that Marius might dispute such a
story and instead confess his real identity were wrong, otherwise he would not
be risking trying to sell him to Scyrax. He would simply have raped the boy
and then cut his throat.
Crastus believed that Marius, although probably not a coward, wanted to live
too much to announce, undoubtedly fatally, that he was the traitor’s son. The
man’s assumption was to prove correct.
“I picked the brat up legitimately whilst performing a commission on a rural
estate,” Crastus lied, at least as far of the legitimacy of his action was
concerned. Failing to rape and then strangle Marius was also failing to obey
the Emperor’s orders and therefore represented treachery.
“I understand that the brat, whose name is Marius, is of Roman stock,” Crastus
suggested, “the offspring of citizens fallen on hard times, who sold him into
slavery in order to be able to repay some of their debts. I thought that his
rather pretty virginal body was wasted in the countryside but would instead be
welcomed in Rome by owners with discerning tastes. He’s also intelligent and
well behaved and so should meet your buying criteria.”
Scyrax did not immediately respond verbally to Crastus’ attempt to promote
Marius’ sale by lauding his attributes. He instead extended his right hand
behind his obese form and dipped a digit in the bowl of honey and figs. He
then pressed the coated fingertip against the boy’s normally sweet and rosy
but currently chapped and sore lips. The 11 year-old compliantly opened his
mouth, revealing his pristinely white perfect teeth in the process, to accept
the digit before eagerly sucking at the sweetness.
As Scyrax felt the tip of Marius’ tongue sucking his finger, he moved his left
hand from the boy’s chin, sliding it down the child’s naked body. The 11 year-
old’s form again tingled in excitement, as the chubby digits slowly advanced
towards his groin, whilst pinching his hard little nipples and squeezing and
prodding his ribcage and navel on the way.
A smile fleetingly lifted Scyrax’s heavy jowls when his fingers finally closed
round Marius’ small penis, which, having being released from the bloodflow-
restricting regime imposed by the iron cockring, he found had quickly grown
stiff and had begun to throb. Also noticing this development was Crastus, who
consequently happily commented “I told you that he was a hot little bitch!”
Scyrax again did not respond to Crastus’ comment but instead continued to play
with Marius’ little erection for a while to test the boy’s reaction. The fat
man ran his fingers gently along all sides of the now resolutely hard cock. He
also occasionally rubbed and flicked the rigid shaft, as well as once pulling
back the foreskin to examine the head.
The desired response that Scyrax happily observed and heard involved Marius’
sensuous blue eyes becoming glazed, pleasurable moans being emitted from his
lips and his whole body beginning to shake with increasing vibration, as the
boy was inexorably brought towards orgasm. However, such sexual ecstasy was to
be denied him.
Shortly before Marius would have climaxed, Scyrax, who had recognised the
imminence of orgasm from experience, withdrew his fingers from the boy’s cock
and instead began to fondle the underlying hairless scrotum. The fat man’s
exploring digits subsequently gently rolled the 11 year-old’s balls, which
were not much larger than olives.
Scyrax simultaneously pushed the finger of his other hand, which Marius was
still obediently sucking despite having by now absorbed most of the honey
coating, deeper into his mouth, reaching right back into his throat. The boy
instantly began to gag and seemed for a moment in danger of choking. However,
he somehow managed quickly to control his reaction to avoid such calamity.
Marius instead now continued to suck, whilst still gazing up into Scyrax’s
ugly face, with his cheeks sunken, as he drew on the finger of the fat man.
The latter was, of course, very pleased to note that the boy had passed the
test to see whether he should to able to perform fellatio with competence.
Scyrax next withdrew his fingers from Marius’ mouth and balls and lowered his
obese form, not without difficulty, so than he was kneeling. The fat man then
began to knead the boy’s front thighs before causing him to whimper when he
prodded the broken flesh on his knees and shins.
“Turn round, brat!” Scyrax subsequently commanded of Marius. The boy again
complied, albeit reluctantly because he had guessed correctly what would now
eventually happen.
Scyrax next pulled at Marius’ ankles, which still displayed the marks of their
recent bondage, forcing the boy to raise each small and fragile foot in turn.
As the 11 year-old subsequently wobbled precariously on one leg, the fat man
examined his soles, which were bruised and torn as a result of his recent long
march.
After Marius was later restored to biped stability, Scyrax ran his hands up
the back of the boy’s legs towards his pert bottom. On reaching this
curvaceous target, the fat man then ordered, in his soft breathless voice,
“Part your legs and bend over, brat!”
After Marius had obeyed, Scyrax gently prised apart the lips of the boy’s
anus, which were red and sore because of the plug that had so recently been
inserted inside. The fat man subsequently confirmed “Well, although your
ridiculous chastity device has hurt the brat’s sphincter, I can at least
corroborate that he’s definitely still a virgin!”
Scyrax now scrambled laboriously back to his feet, grunting as he heaved his
bulk upright. The fat man next moved his hands upwards straying over Marius’
back and narrow shoulders, and kneading the back of the boy’s neck.
“Well,” Scyrax then exclaimed to Crastus, having completed his intimate
examination of Marius’ young body, on which a little erection was still
visible, and whilst returning to his couch and again picking up his rod, “I
still don’t know why you brought the brat here. You would need to pay me to
take him on. I only deal in the choicest boys who are capable of serving very
high-class clientele. My reputation and therefore business could be ruined if
I took on any slut from the streets, like this one!”
In response, Crastus initially sighed. He had seen in Scyrax’s eyes that,
despite his words of disparagement, the fat man wanted Marius. He was also
himself an experienced negotiator and he could therefore recognise the
commencement of haggling over price. However, he also realised that he had no
choice but to play the game.
“Pay to keep him,” Crastus consequently protested loudly, “but look again at
the brat. All right, he’s been worked hard over the last couple of days but
clean him, rest him for a week or two, feed him up a bit and train him
appropriately and he’ll fetch a good price at market. There’s real quality in
him. Look at the way he’s put together, with good slim lines, and at eleven
he’s still a virgin! Of how many boys of similar age at auction can you say
that?”
“He’s dirty and broken,” Scyrax retorted, “and, if you think that he’ll make a
good price, why don’t you sell him direct in the market instead of bringing
him to me? I’d be ashamed to put the miserable little brat up for sale in his
present condition and, as for cleaning, feeding, resting and training him
first, he’d never fetch enough at auction, even in peak condition, to cover
the resultant cost to me!”
Meanwhile, Marius, whose cock had gradually returned to flaccidity after the
cessation of Scyrax’s intimate manhandling, stood quietly between the two men
as they argued over him. The boy knew that he had, no more than any other item
of livestock being bought and sold, no part to play in the negotiations, which
would decide his whole future.
Crastus and Scyrax bickered over Marius’ price for about a quarter of an hour.
During this time, each of the men gradually moved by almost imperceptible
steps nearer to the compromise sum that would achieve the boy’s sale.
“I’m a soft hearted man,” Scyrax eventually suggested to Crastus in order to
clinch his purchase. “To save the brat from being dragged round Rome until you
finally find a buyer,” the fat man added, “I’ll therefore agree to pay the
amount you now say you want, even though I’m sure to lose on the deal. I know
that my kindness will one day be the ruin of me but I can’t help being
generous!”
Crastus knew that Scyrax was not being generous and would not lose out on the
deal but would instead certainly earn a large profit. However, he also
appreciated that he was himself incapable of preparing Marius for the
lucrative high-class market and the price was reasonably fair and so not too
disappointing. After all, the boy had cost him and his men nothing and they
also would not have to take the potential risk of selling him at public
auction, where, untrained, his valuation might not be much greater.
“If by any chance you have any similar merchandise you wish to dispose of in
the future, you will remember me,” Scyrax subsequently suggested to Crastus,
as he counted out the agreed amount of silver coins from a purse into the
eager open hand of Marius’ seller. “I’ll remember you more as being a man who
drives a hard bargain,” the latter growled, whilst pocketing the money, “and
I’ll hope for a better price next time!”
“A man can always hope!” Scyrax commented in response, and both men grinned.
Crastus was then escorted from the house by the boy who had led him and Marius
along the lengthy and interestingly decorated entrance hallway.
As Marius watched Crastus depart, he hoped that he would never again encounter
the man. He had, after all, not only treated and talked about him so badly but
also raped and murdered his siblings.
Marius was, of course, aware that he was only alive because Crastus had
refrained from molesting and strangling him too. However, the man’s motivation
had been greed not compassion and the boy’s future could still be such that he
might prefer to be dead.
Marius, however, was unsure whether he should be grateful to Crastus or hate
him even more for one other recent development in his young life. The man had
avidly demonstrated the sexually burgeoning nature of the boy’s body, which
was on the verge of pubescence.
Marius did not know whether he should be in awe or ashamed of the revelation,
as he was unable to determine what he was consequently turning into. He could
not tell if he was a normal growing boy or, as Crastus had suggested, was
becoming a true cock-loving young whore.
Marius was finally left alone in the courtyard with his fresh owner, Scyrax,
and the dark curly haired boy, who was only wearing a tiny white thong. “Now,”
the fat man subsequently queried of himself, “what shall I do first with my
new toy?”
Marius, who was the new toy in question, waited in trepidation for Scyrax to
answer his own query.
(To be continued)
* * * |
Altered | STRAIGHT, WARNING, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, fisting, cbt | With the help of her doctor friend, Lynn was about to enhance their relationship | ` Their relationship grew tremendously in the last 4 months. Lynn, finally
able to let her dominate desires loose after 15 years of a dull and abusive
marraige. Ken, twice divorced, and very submissive, would let Lynn do as she
pleased. Ken was actually into anal fetishes, but dabbled some in CBT. Lynn
took special joy in unrolling his insides with her exploring hands. So hot,
wet and silky. She thoroughly enjoyed widening his anal cavity, more and more.
His ass was resembling a large engorged vagina after her daily use, for almost
4 months. He never complained, as he had always wanted to be, destroyed,
anally. To take very large objects. `
During their anal play, she would marvel at his very low hanging balls. At
first, it seemed as she loved them. But her love grew and more demanding as
their relationship grew. She loved grasping them, pulling them, so they were
pulled down and away from his body. Squeezing and manipulating them roughly
with her hands. Squeezing each ball, feeling them give, flatten, like a
sponge. Lynn took a special liking to sucking and biting his balls. Never
enough to draw blood, but enough to make him squirm from the pressure. One day
while servicing her ass, him on floor, her standing, as he lapped her hole
from behind her. His legs spread wide, she takes her uncovered foot, and
lightly steps on his sack, reveling in the feel of them on the bottom of her
foot. Feeling them roll around as she put pressure on them till they couldn't
move. Ken was in 7th heaven, and knowing that at any time, she could lose her
ballance and squash them easily. His cock throbbed on the back of her ankle.
Precum oozing out from the excitement or the pressure she was applying to his
balls, he wasn't sure, or cared. Lets' move to the bedroom, she suggests. Once
there, she takes some rope, tying up his cock and balls rather tight. Making
his balls stretch out 7-8 inches, they hung about equal to his 7 inch cock.
Actually they hung just a bit lower. Laying him on his back, she proceeds to
grease up his ass. Without much resistance, she has 3 fingers inside. Coating
the walls with lube. Taking his tied up ball sack, she pops them inside his
own ass. Pushing them till only 2 inches of rope covered sac was left outside.
He was moaning, pleasure and pain, as his balls felt good, but also, they
hurt, as his ass hasn't relaxed yet, and it is putting tremendous pressure on
his purple, swelling balls. While his balls are trapped, she takes duct tape,
large pieces, and uses the tape to keep his balls from being pushed out. After
she gets him nice and taped, she mounts him, presenting her ass to him, as she
reaches down, grasping his cock. With balls firmly secured in his ass, his
cock is pulled down, by the force. She grasps his cock, pulling it towards
her, knowing that it is painful, pulling him in two differant directions
almost. His gasps and moans are muffled as she squirms her ass on his tongue,
mouth. Firmly glued to her spinchter. She takes more rope and starts to wrap
his cock shaft with it. Pulling tightly, and making the rope not gap, he soon
looks like a his cock has a cast, with only about 2 inches peaking out,
swelling tremendously from the trapped blood. Marveling at her handy work, and
having enjoyed a dozen mind blowing orgasms. She decides it is time for some
serious anal stretching.
She takes him and makes him lean over the edge of the bed. The gravity helping
pull his guts down and away. Today, she wants to rip into virgin territory.
She was growing tired of Ken always stopping the play. So she gags him with a
ball gag, and ties his legs to his upper torso, so he can't move to get away
from her exploring fingers. He always keeps himself cleaned out, as he never
knows when she will come over, and be in an anal mood. Recently, she
discovered a new lube, very slippery. She takes a small disposable douce
bottle full of it, and inserts into his ass. Whoosh! A sudden spurt of slimmy
lube coats his guts, slowly oozing deeper into him. Starting with 3 fingers he
easily opens up, to accept the 4th and 5th with ease. With very slight
pressure, her knuckles disappear too. Sliding in, fingers outstretched
resembling a cone. She is at mid forearm when she reaches the stopping point.
Virgin territory. With steady pressure, she wiggles her fingers, twisting her
arm side to side, she slowly enters the area never touched by human flesh. He
startes to moan, maybe complaining as the pressure in him increases. It seems
to take forever, a centimeter at a time, he feels her arm widening at his ass
entrance, becoming wider than her fist. Soon, she is pulling out, his ass
sounding like a slop hole as it squishes from her arm, sliding in and out. She
watches his ass gape open as she slides all the way out, only to slowly slide
back in, to the hilt. He is babbling inside his gag, in euphoric pleasure as
her elbow slides in past the anal ring. Thankful and very turned on, she sinks
in till she has her bicep wrapped by his ass, she starts to flex her muscles,
making his ass stretch even more. His ass is pryed way wide, till a tiny tear
starts at the tops of his hole. Both are in orgasmic exstacy. She doesn't
notice till she pulls her arm out. His ass is bleeding some. Disappointed, as
this isn't the first time. Whenever she tears him, she has to wait at least 2
weeks to explore him again. Tiring of having to take these sabaticals, she
decides her doctor friend should help.
She had known this doctor for a number of years and they both were very open
when it came to sexual problems. She asked him if he had any of the new gluw
stitches, to see if it would help, and lesson the healing time. She told him
the problem they were having. He asked her how committed they were to this
kind of play. She said very much, it was their real common bond. He suggested
radical modification. That he could permanently fix the problem and make it
more enjoyable for the both of them. Describing how, and what he could do, she
was hihly turned on. She said, she needed time to consider it, as it would
change their relationship forever.
Lynn drove straight over to Ken's. She made 2 very stiff drinks, and sat Ken
down to relate what the doctor had suggested. The only draw back, was Ken
would have to quit his job, as the recovery period would be over a month. She
would pay for the next 2 months rent as she was not in a hurt, money wise. Her
father left a good inheritance to her, even though Lynn still worked, to help
fight off boredom. Ken finished his drink quickly, and was making himself
another. As it would mean a big change in their sex life. But, he was growing
very horny too, with the thought that it would make her happy, and they would
afterall, be able to fully embelish their anal escapades.
Ken looked at Lynn, half drunk, but totally in control of his thoughts, told
her to line it up, sooner the better. She hugged Ken, knowing that their
relationship would now be sealed. With nervous fingers, she dialed her doctor
friend. He told her, He could do it Sunday, his day off from his private
practice. It was Saturday now, she thought to herself. Agreeing to meet him at
his office at 9:00 am, she hung up. She looked at Ken, telling him sooner was
better, as the operation would be in the morning. Wow, so fast he thought to
himself. Lynn, looking at Ken, imaging what he will look like after tomorrow,
started to get very excited. She told Ken to get naked, tonight would be very
special, as they had many fantasies to try out, and now, they had a time
limit. Her excitement was bubbling over. Taking Ken to the fantasy bedroom,
she wasted no time, tying him to the the bed, ankles to the foot, wrists to
the headboard. Looking down at his increasingly swelling cock, she knew she
would have to adjust to the new Ken, but, his devotion to her was now a sealed
fate. Taking the rope, she so much loved to use on him, she soon had his balls
to the bursting point, pulled down tightly. Going to her knitting kit, she was
about to fulfill one of hers and Ken's fantasies. She wasn't worried about
using alcohol to sterilize the area, she just started to pull out hair pins,
various lengths, and laid them neatly beside Ken on a fluffy white
towell.Going to her purse, she brought back some hypeodermic needles she got
from her doctor friend. Lynn lays these on the towell also. Setting up the
video camera, she wanted to catch every moment of their play tonight. Hitting
record, she proceeds to climb on top of him, facing the camera at the foot of
the bed, she looks right in the camera as she settles her ass down on his
tongue. Picking up one syringe, she slowly pushes it into his left testicle,
he starts to thrash a bit, held still by his restraints, crys muffled His ball
seems to resist until finally, feeling like rubber, the point breaks through.
As she sinks the needle in deeper. taking the plunger, she starts to extract
fluid, was it sperm, or part of the protective lining, she wasn't sure, but
she knew she had wanted to do this for a long time, but wasn't about to see
Ken's pain potential. Now, well, it was go for broke. Once the syringe was
full, about 10 cc's of straight ball juice. She slowly pulled the needle out.
Then proceeded to do the same with his right one. He didn't resist as much, as
in actuality, it didn't hurt that bad. Just the shock of a stinger entering
his testicle.
But, the needle fun had just begun. He couldn't see how many she had next to
her on the towell, but soon, he would know every one of them intimately. She
starts with the short pins, with little balls on the end. Taking her time, she
held his ball sack up, marveling at their tautness, roundness. With her other
hand, she starts to push the pin in, much like the syringe. Resistance, then a
slight pop feeling as the needle entered inside his ball meat. Not pushing it
totally in, she wanted it to stick out some. Taking another pin, she does the
same to his other ball. She keeps going till his balls resemble a ww2 mine.
Ken, cries muffled, face wet from her many mini orgasms she had while
inserting each needle. She marveled at the much impaled orbs in front of her.
Her hand still grasping the rope ball stretcher. Looking down she sees she
only has a few left, these ones, the long hat pins, resembled the long needles
used in tying turkey's up for roasting. These were much bigger gauged than the
slim needles making his nuts look like a porcupine. with a steady grasp, she
takes one, and starts on the right side, with firm gripo, she slowly skewers
it, pushing, sinking in, till finally it broke through the right one, and was
now entering the left nut. Soon, she saw his skin pimple out, as the needle
was starting to make it's way out. Success, she flooded Ken's face, who had
passed out from the pain. Climbing off, she fetches a smalling salt, to revive
him, and to show him, his once nice, hairless balls. He thought it looked like
a satellite, his humor slightly jaded, but still, the throbbing pain in his
balls was mind boggling, but, was easing some. She grabbed the video camera
and zoomed in, having him hold them up, so, they could be preserved on film.
Eying his cock, she knew she wasn't done, not yet. Seeing it hard, with precum
oozing out, just reminded her, she had more needles somewhere. Ken layed there
for 15-20 minutes while she scowered the apartment. She came back in, this
time with the actual needles used when making turkey. She wanted to sit next
to him this time, as she knew, these babies would look super, and he would
hurt tremendously. She used the ball gag, and blindfolded him, as he still
didn't know what she had planned till she grasped his cock by the root. Being
as persistant as she was, she wanted the camera to catch it all, closeup. She
left the lense focused so it seemed the camera was 3 inches or so away.
Grabbing his cock by the base, throbbing, she took the first of half a dozen,
and started at the glans. Pushing, it went in rather easily. Ken would be
waking the neighbors right now, had he not had the gag on, he was still loud,
as she pushed steadily till finally, it sank in till it was all the way
through, with an inch of the needle visible on either side. The camera catches
the blood drop onthe end of the needle. With her fingers, she wipes the blood
off, and tastes it, mmmm, with a mix of precum flavor. He doesn't know, there
is so much more to come. Taking the 2nd needle, she goes for the exact middle,
pushing till it pops out the underside. She decides to stop, as her pussy is
beackoning for some attention. She sits back, rubbing her swollen wet lips to
a instant orgasm, looking at her human pin cushion in front of her.
Now, time to get a little messy, as she starts to take the needles out, the
blood begins to flow, starting with the cock, they come out easily. Then she
takes out the small needles in his balls. Blood and seminal fluid leaks
steadily from his balls. Now, the big needle, taking a firm hold on his right
nut, she pulls it out, slowly. Ken has done passed out. She knows how to
revive him. She goes into the bathroom, and comes back with a rag, and starts
to wipe off his bloody midsection, Ken wakes up and thrashes wildly, as she
soaked the rag with alcohol. The pain for Ken must be unbearable, but we can't
get infections, not with the doctor appointment in the morning. LKeaving Ken
tied to the bed, Lynn, goes to edit her newest movie. Going to their web site,
she posts new pics of their latest video stills. She ends up staying up all
night, nervous and arroused about the upcoming doctors appointment.
She wakes Ken up, as she unties him from the bed. His genitals are deeply
bruised and each needle hole is easily seen. She snaps a few pictures. She has
Ken do 3 enemas while she drinks her coffee. Then helps Ken get dressed. He
mentions he is hungry, but, not this morning, she tells him, not with the big
operation coming up. The drive took forever, though the docotrs office was
only about 6 miles away. Ken and Lynn went in, and found the doctor still
setting up the office/operation room. Ken disrobed and was led to the exam
table where he was made to put his legs in the stirrups, and secured there by
velcro strips. The doctor told Lynn she could wait outside if she wanted, as
it would take a couple hours to complete. She chose to stay and watch, as she
wanted to see it all. Lynn was not scared of blood. She was a self employed
nurse, but it had been a few years since she helped with an actual operation.
She helped by putting the catheter in Ken's cock, and gave Ken his IV, and
also the sedative. Within 30 seconds Ken was out cold.
The doctor starts with the hardest part, the removal of Kens reproductive
organs. All of them. With a scalpel, he starts to cut the scrotum, from the
base of the cock, and slowly, he skinned the testicles, exposing all that will
no longer be. He placed the large skin remnant into a stainless steel bowl.You
see, with the radical surgery the doctor suggested, removal of all the male
parts would ultimately increase their ability at extreme anal play. The doctor
worked slowly but efficiently. Lynne helped and was amazed at how far she
could pull the cords out. She had them stretched out a foot, and was amazed at
their fullness and roundness, dispite the abuse she administered the night
before. The doctor had sliced off the spermatic cord and vas derens. Using a
laser scalpel, which cauterized the cord as it cut it. Then the penis was
slowly sliced off at the base, working around the catheter. Clamping of the
major veins as he did this, as he wanted the final result to be very clean, as
if they had never been there to begin with. Then the doctor proceded with
carefully cutting out the root, way inside. With the cock, root, and testicles
gone, the ability of extreme anal play was increased. More room, more
stretching, and the possibilty of more doctor induced modifications in the
future. Soon, all that was left was the catheter tube, where the doctor had
repositioned into the front, about where a woman's eurthera is located. The
doctor did a great job sewing everything back together, after trimming off all
excess skin. Lynn marveled at what was all in the bowl. The weight of all the
lost muscle and tissue amazed her. The doctor wrapped the genital remains in
butcher paper, and suggested she either preserve them, do as she wished, or he
could have them incinerated. Many things went through her mind, sucking on
those balls was a passion with her, perhaps with some A-1 sauce, she thought
to herself. After frying them up, Hmmmm, she was getting wet at the thought,
of eating Ken.
Now, with that done, The doctor used the laser scalpel to reopen the rip in
Ken's spinchter and opened it another inch beyond. With the cut, clean and
true, it would heal, and would also heal up larger. He made the stitches there
just a little loose, as she had requested he not be so tight.
By the time Ken started to come around. Lynn and the doctor had the room
cleaned up and were drinking coffee, marveling at the modifications they had
made on Ken, who once healed, was soon to be at Lynn's stretching mercy. The
docor estimated with the removal of all the organs and the extra cut he made,
Ken should easily acomodate another 6 inches in girth. Lynn helped Ken to the
car, smiling widely as she had so many plans for Ken's ass. She was
daydreaming of how wide and deep she will make him. After it healed, once and
for all.
* * * |
Wrong Universe? | GAY, PENECTOMY, MINOR, Minor seduces Youth | A sequel to Walker County High School Incident, where we learn Benny\'s fate, and how he discovers a new life in space. | Benny awoke with a start. He’d felt something poking his chin. It took him a
moment to realize it was his own boner, and it frightened him momentarily as
he flailed his long arms around, trying to swipe the monster away. He had a
split-second vision of being attacked by a snake. But, then he was aware of
his strange surroundings again and slowly sat up. His nakedness still felt
odd, but he was warm and the creatures walking in and out of his quarters
didn’t seem to notice, or care.
He struggled to stand, but still found that he could not, due to his odd feet
and really long arms. And, his penis was so long, and swollen, not to mention
his balls were so huge. He had to negotiate his long arms into holding his
penis out of the way, and then pull his huge balls up, until he could get his
feet on the floor. Then he had to slowly allow the over-sized genitals to
‘settle’ between his legs, before he could try and move. His grossly large
erection made him arch his back, and spread his legs. His balls slipped
between his thighs, and slapped the side of the bench he’d laid on, which made
him gasp. He sucked air in before leaning over, and rolling himself into an
‘all fours’ position. After a few seconds, he found he could tolerate that.
His huge balls swung down close to his knees, and his penis bounced around
down near his shins when he tried to move. It felt odd, and even a little
pleasurable, when it wasn’t hurting deep in his groin from being so hard and
stiff. He was sure his penis wanted to break off each time his pendulous balls
slapped into it. He found it easier to walk on all fours, like an ape or
monkey, so his penis would ‘hang’ without feeling like it would break. His
arms felt a little strange still, but they were a little longer than his legs,
and he could manage to get to the window on all fours, and watch the stars go
by, without really having to stand up.
Space looked a lot like what he’d seen on television. It still felt so strange
actually being in space. He had to keep reminding himself it was real. He
wasn’t dreaming. The creatures that ran the strange ship went about their
duties like ants, as though on auto-pilot, and he was just another ornament
that had little meaning.
He felt a little hungry and instantly a little green pill-like shape appeared
before him on the window sill. He sniffed it and slowly lifted himself up,
sort-of standing, so he could move his arm up to investigate the strange
thing. It smelled a little like pizza and broccoli, with a little spinach
mixed in. He suddenly felt really hungry, and decided “What the hell”, and
tossed it into his mouth. It swelled up some, forcing him to chew it, instead
of simply swallowing it. He chewed it and swallowed, but every time he
swallowed, there was more of it. Eventually he felt full, or at least like he
didn’t want to eat any more, and the pill was gone. Then he felt thirsty, and
like the pill, a bluish liquid just ‘appeared’ before him, floating in the air
like a sphere. He leaned into the sphere, and sucked it into his mouth. It
tasted like water, but then a Pepsi. Had he imagined that? He really wished he
could have had a Pepsi, when he first tasted the liquid, and it tasted like
water. He imagined having a chocolate milkshake, and again, the blue liquid
appeared. He leaned into it again, and sure enough, it tasted like a chocolate
milkshake.
“Cool,” Benny thought. He licked the blue sphere until he wasn’t interested
any more, and it disappeared as before. Then all of a sudden, he had a strong
urge to pee. He realized he hadn’t pissed since he went before he got into the
shower. He was really hurting now. He looked around, a little franticly, but
didn’t see anything that remotely looked like a urinal or toilet. He shuffled
around on all fours, until he couldn’t help himself, or ‘hold it’ any longer.
His penis extended down to the middle of his shins, and was starting to become
super erect from his need to piss. All of a sudden, he let go . . . he
couldn’t wait any longer. His urine drained out of his long penis, barely
splattering on the floor due to its length, but it did not puddle either. His
piss disappeared into the floor. “What the fuck?” he pondered. “That’s weird.
Wonder if it eats shit too?”
His erection did not subside after his piss, as usual. The hardness seemed
much different, and he felt a longing, and a need he’d never felt before.
There was a tingling in his penis, sort of like electricity, or a foot or hand
going to sleep, but also like someone was rubbing it inside and out. He
couldn’t see anything, but enjoyed the feelings. His massive balls started to
tingle too. He had an itching and burning deep within his groin. The end of
his long penis began to throb. The purplish glans started to swell into a huge
mushroom. This was a new experience for Benny. He’d never had any emissions,
let alone an orgasm. Having an erection wasn’t new; he’d had them almost 24/7
since he was 13. But, the “jiz-spitting”, his friends talked about, eluded him
still. But, that was before he came here, and he had a super tiny dick, no
body hair, and virtually no balls. All of a sudden, his penis started to
bounce and jerk; up and down, back and forth, seemingly on its own, but his
hips were also moving instinctively. Without warning, he shot a copious amount
of semen across the floor between his hands. It was so violent, and lasted so
long, he felt weak and had butterflies in his stomach. He remained on his
hands and feet momentarily. But feeling like he would soon collapse, he moved
back to the bench he had slept on. He placed his hands on the bench, and
rotated his hips around to fall on his side. His long penis draped over his
hip and the side of the bench, with his heated testicles sagging over his
thigh, still draining semen . . . each drop disappearing into the floor as
they fell.
He hadn’t touched his penis. He’d heard guys talk about jacking off, and
reveling in the joys of masturbation; something he couldn’t relate to before
now. He knew other guys jerked their penis with their hands, and he’d tried in
vain himself. Abusing his tiny pecker until he’d made hamburger of it. They
talked about sucking dick and fucking ass, and how good it felt. He’d allowed
his cousin Seth to suck his dick, and fuck his ass a few times, and sort-of
related to the climactic experience from that aspect. But, he didn’t know that
he could have a spontaneous emission. Being sexually immature before his
arrival on this ship, he had never had anything to obtain any emissions with,
or compare the feelings to what he’d just experienced. His groin still felt
warm and tingly, from his recent explosion, but his penis felt warmer. His
arms felt weak too. He soon fell asleep, as most mature males are apt to do
after sexual release.
Benny awoke again with a fire in his groin. His penis really hurt; like cactus
needles and fire ant bites combined. His balls had a dull ache, like they were
twisted, or had recently been punched. His arms hurt and were tingling. His
finger joints were swollen and red. His left foot was numb. He wanted to cry,
and did so . . . loudly.
The ship’s First Officer noticed Benny crying, and summoned the Science
Officer.
“Sir, the creature is in pain again. What should I do?”
“Monitor its movements, and consult the Physician. I am not familiar with this
species,” the Science Officer said.
Benny cried for hours. His stomach hurt almost as bad as his head. His arms
were swollen and very red. His penis and testicles were swollen and putrid.
His penis was dripping snot-like puss. His balls felt like they were being
squeezed in a vice.
The ship’s Physician came in and stepped over to Benny. He placed one of his
tentacles on the boy’s chest, trying to comfort him. He immediately removed
his tentacle as though he’d just contracted a deadly virus.
“Sir,” the Physician called back to the Science Officer, “I think this
creature is dying. It’s hot and burning with fever. Its parts are not
conforming. We must not have regenerated them in the correct order.”
“Well, what do you want me to do about it?” The Science Officer sighed. “I
didn’t want the thing when it appeared. I was only looking to acquire New Ice
from the Blue Planet.” He added rather grumpily. “Call up to the Collective,
and see if The Aged One is willing to assist you.”
The Physician moved over to the wall in Benny’s chamber. He turned his back to
the wall, stepped backward, and seemed to blend into the wall’s membrane.
Instantly he went into a trance. After a few moments, he stepped away from the
wall, and was followed by another odd creature . . . one that did not look
anything like either he or the Science Officer. This one had long gray-white
hair all over, and trailed sticky slim across the floor from a long tail
sticking out from the hair. Benny frowned at the new being looking him over
with the already accustomed-to Physician.
“Ah . . . this is a human. Possibly a child, by his thoughts; but something is
wrong. Did you check for alien viruses or diseases?” the Aged One asked.
“I scanned it several times,” the Physician replied. “I did not get any
recognizable readings, but I’m not familiar with this species.”
“Well, it would be a shame to lose this one. We have another, The Dax, but The
Dax joined the collective many cycles ago. This could be a companion for The
Dax. A humanoid companion may ease some of those moods we endure. I will ask
The Dax to leave the collective, and see if he can assist with keeping this
one alive. Maybe we can get an offspring from the union of this one, and The
Dax . . . if we can keep this one alive.” The Aged One said.
With that, the Aged One slid over to the wall of the compartment, and
disappeared into the wall membrane. After a few more moments, he reappeared
with a tall young adult human male, naked like Benny, but naturally about 20
years old. Dax, or “The Dax”, as the beings called him, is smooth-skinned,
like Benny, but with a small amount of pubic hair. He has a modest young-adult
uncircumcised penis and rather small testicles. He has long thick blonde hair
that drapes down past his waist, stark blue-green eyes, rosy cheeks, and a
light dusting of facial hair above his lip and under his chin. He stretched,
and yawned, rubbed his eyes, then raked his hands over his smooth torso,
before scratching his groin and ass.
“Where are we, why did you wake me?” Dax asked.
“We are in a galaxy near your home world, and have captured another of your
species. It needs your help. We think it is sick, and we thought you might
like to have a companion before it dies.” The Aged One said.
“What? Dax shouted. “Have you been back to Earth?”
“No. . . . Science Officer sent a portal . . . . When we passed, 3 cycles back
. . . to collect samples or something. New Ice, I think, or new experiments .
. . but that is for Captain to deal with.” The Aged One said. “Captain is a
New One, and did not know about your desires, or species.
“Well he needs to spend more time in the Collective. You know I wanted to see
Earth again,” Dax said in dismay. “I have been stuck on this ship for so
long.” He held his head in his hands. “I could kill someone right now.”
All the bug beings in the room stepped back when Dax said that, but he wasn’t
paying any attention to them once he spotted Benny.
Dax walked over to the moaning boy. “By crackings!” he cried, “What happened
to this boy?”
Dax knelt down beside Benny’s bench, gingerly touching the boy’s chest.
Benny was sobbing, but not as loudly as before. He opened his eyes at the
gentle touch, and then looked up into Dax’s eyes. He sucked in air, in great
surprise. Then he passed out.
“How did this aberration happen?” Dax demanded standing, and then facing the
Physician.
“It, er . . . he came through the portal with several parts separated from
him. We put him through regeneration. He does not look much like you now, but
he did, to some degree . . . before. We did not think about calling you
because he was crying, but then we thought he was dying from separation.
Captain said regenerate, so I did. He had several parts like this, and some
extra like these,” the Physician said to Dax, brushing Dax’s penis and
touching his arms.
“Well, reverse the regeneration, Oaf,” Dax said irritated. “Do you not know
what sticks and stones look like by now? How many sticks and stones, and arms
do you think a boy needs?”
Dax stooped down and gathered Benny in his arms and carried him to the
regeneration chamber.
Benny was vaguely aware of being carried again. His head felt like it would
explode. He was beyond caring about the heavy weight between his legs, or his
dangling arms.
The lights were flashing in swirls with sparkling effervescence. Benny felt
his body grow lighter, felt like it was floating, but was watching himself
degenerate. It felt oddly familiar, strange, but mesmerizing at the same time.
He saw visions of his schoolmates’ body parts floating around in the haze, but
with ghostly apparitions of their faces and bodies trying to catch the missing
parts. Each apparition would look down at Benny with wicked smiles or teasing
grins. Some were laughing, some were pouting. A couple of them were trying to
get Benny’s attention by waving. Then they all disappeared. The lights dimmed,
and the room came back into focus. As Benny’s eyes stopped seeing stars, he
opened them up to see a handsome young man smiling down at him.
Dax raised a hand up to his right ear and swiped some of his long locks away
from his face, then tossed his head in the same direction, to keep his hair
over that shoulder.
Benny saw Dax’s eyes and thought he was an angel. But then shrank away from
him as one of the ship’s beings stepped up behind Dax’s right shoulder into
Benny’s line of sight. Benny started to scream when the Aged One came into
focus on the other side of the table. When he saw all the loose body parts on
his torso, and the table around him, he screamed even louder, and started
thrashing around, which sent some of the parts across the room.
“Whoa there boy!” Dax exclaimed. “Ain’t no one going to hurt ya,” he said in a
regional dialect Benny wasn’t unfamiliar with, but Dax spoke it with a touch
of Cockney English.
Benny never saw the young man move his lips, or open his mouth. This confused
him. He shrank even more. He sat up at the end of the table, and grabbed his
knees. Then he suddenly realized again that he was naked, and tried to cover
up his tiny genitals.
“Relax kid. You are still a little dazed by the regeneration,” Dax said while
gently caressing Benny’s knee. “You should start to feel normal in a few
minutes.
Again, Benny ‘heard’ him speak, but did not see his mouth move. He did see
Dax’s intoxicating smile and perfect teeth. He looked around the room at all
the different beings and then he saw Dax’s nakedness and extremely long hair,
in stark comparison, and frowned.
“Where am I?” Benny faltered. “Who are you people?” he added with a little
more bravery, noticing none of the beings approached him in Dax’s presence.
“Why do I hear you speaking to me, but I can’t see you talking?”
“Well,” Dax started, turning to look at the others. “I could speak to you, but
you might not understand my spoken word, and the shipmates here need to hear
me at the same time.” Dax offered with another dazzling smile. “Most
communications are mind-to-mind on this tug. There are too many different
beings to keep up with . . . and just as many languages.” He added. “You’ll be
able to communicate this way soon.” Dax said with another reassuring smile.
“So you are telepathic.” Benny stated with television confidence. “That
explains why they understood me before you showed up. Where did you come from,
and why are you naked?” Benny asked with a little trepidation, again giving
Dax’s nude form another once-over.
“I do not understand ‘tel-e-path-thick’, and there is nary need for clothing.
These folks wear none, and what little I had fell to dust a long time ago.”
Dax replied.
“How did you get here?” Benny asked while still looking around the room.
“I fell into the light, much like you did. I went fer a walk down by the old
mill, on a fine evening. I took a dip in the mill pond. I came up fer air, an’
seen the light. I swam over to it, an’ next I know . . . I’m here with narin’
but a wet pair of breeches.” Dax said with a wave of his arm. “Think you can
you stand?” he added.
Benny slowly scooted to the edge of the table, and leaned on Dax’s extended
arm for support. The coolness of the table and the air in the room made his
tiny genitals draw up, which embarrassed him a bit. He tried to cover his
groin with his free hand, but he suddenly felt foolish for doing so. He turned
red in the face, but propped himself on the table edge, and Dax’s strong arm,
and then stood up. His miniscule penis drew up into a tight little pointed
skin cone, banked by tiny bumps of testicles under the skin beside it. He got
goose bumps as his feet hit the floor. His shivering made his coal-black hair
shimmer, and his teeth chatter.
“There you go, Mate,” Dax offered support to Benny by grabbing the boy’s right
arm and placing his other hand behind the boy’s back. “Hey, you’re just a Wee
Mite, aren’t ya?” Dax chided Benny, smiling kindly and rubbing the small of
Benny’s back.
“How do you understand me? Are you an American?” Benny asked.
“An American?” Dax repeated a little confused.
“You speak English,” Benny answered. “American . . . you know, United States.”
“I know narin’ of the United States but my people are English,” Dax offered,
and added, “Well, we have a bit of Welsh in the line too, on me Mam’s side. We
are from Fort Frederica, on the Island, off the coast of the New World. My
people settled the Georgia Colony of Fort Frederica when I was nigh to a June-
bug.” He added with a proud smile. “Come over with Oglethorpe, they did!”
“Ah, well . . . James Oglethorpe discovered Georgia, but the Colonies were a
long time ago. He built Fort Frederica on St. Simons Island in . . . ah, 1733,
I think. But the Fort is long gone now. Are you trying to tell me that you’re
one of the original settlers?” Benny asked in amazement, his mind spinning.
“Well, my parents are. Are you also from the Georgia Colony? When did you
arrive? Where is your family parcel located?” Dax asked with sincere interest.
“I sure do miss the fields and sandy beaches.”
“Dude, Georgia is a state now. I grew up in LaFayette. The colonies were
established in the Savannah River basin. That’s on the East Coast. I grew up
in the mountains near the Tennessee and Alabama border . . . way north of
Savannah.” Benny said matter-of-factly. “When were you born?” Benny asked,
noticing Dax’s confusion.
“February 1st, in the year of our Lord 1732.” Dax replied. “My Pap always tol’
me they was on a ship from the Old World and said me Mam had to wait ‘til we
hit land fer me to come out. I was born’t right on the beach of Yamacraw
Bluff, the very day the settlers came ashore.”
“I was born in 1996.” Benny replied. “I’m 14. Its 2010 now. If you were born
in 1732 . . . you’re over 200 years old.”
Benny did the math in his head and opened his eyes wide. “Dude! You’re 278
years old! How is that possible?”
Dax frowned. “I know I have been on this ship a long time, but I did not know
it has been that long. Are you sure? I never was good at ciphering, and I
never lern’t read’n on the Scriptures well. I was 19 last I know’d . . . a’for
I came on board,” he said as he hung his head with a bit of shame. “Are you
saying my family is dead ‘n buried?” he added with tears in his eyes. “Guess
them damned Spaniards came back after Bloody Marsh.”
“Well, the Battle of Bloody Marsh was in 1742, and Oglethorpe won. You would
have been 10. The Spanish never tried to conquer Georgia again. The army
pulled out in 1749, when you were 15, and fire destroyed most of the remaining
settlers’ homes in the mid-50’s. No one was living there after 1760. The place
is a historic site now. I went out to St. Simons Island last year on a church
retreat. I’m sort of a History nerd.” Benny said kindly but a little
sheepishly. “You must have disappeared sometime in 1751 if you are 19. That’s
the year the fires started.”
Having been exposed to television and a lot of Science fiction, and that
combined with his present situation, he figured the guy may have been in
stasis for a long time.
“What was your family name? What’s your first name, anyway?” Benny asked as if
suddenly forgetting his manners.
“I was born’t Dackland Whitefield Sheppard. Folks always called me Dax. These
bug fellers call me The Dax, for some reason. What is your given name?” Dax
asked, bowing slightly.
“My name is Benny . . . er, Benjamin Bradley Brown. My Mom calls me 3B, ‘cause
she thinks that’s cute. All my friends call me Benny.” Benny said wistfully.
He missed his Mom.
Dax noticed the boy’s face, and changed the subject. “Where did all them
sticks and stones and extra bones come from?” Dax asked in his thick Coastal
English, this time out loud.
Benny frowned momentarily at ‘sticks and stones’, but almost instantly
realized Dax meant ‘dicks and balls’. “All my friends stuck their junk in the
portal thingy that took me . . . before it took me here. They all thought it
was funny, ‘cause it didn’t hurt.” Benny said, and then he recounted the whole
shower scene up to the point of Randy tossing him into the shimmering field.
Dax asked Benny to describe the shower room of the boy’s locker room. He’d
never heard of a room dedicated to showers before. Benny giggled while he
explained. Then laughed harder when Dax asked why anyone would want to take a
‘running bath’ during school.
“My Granny!” Dax exclaimed out loud. “I never hear’t such. You mean all these
parts belong’t to other boys like you?” Dax asked, surveying the pile of dicks
and balls. “And they just cavort around naked together during school?”
Benny laughed, remembering the early settlers didn’t believe in bathing. The
thought of wetting oneself on purpose must have seemed ludicrous to Dax.
“Well, there are a couple of dicks I don’t recognize, but the big one came
from my cousin Seth.” Benny said turning his attention back to the table where
Seth’s large boy-cock still lay. He surveyed the room, and pointed out other
sets of genitals, and body parts he thought he recognized.
“I know that these folks have tools to help out with their ailments. I have
seen and used one to lop off parts, but I n’er used it on m’self. I n’er
worried about doin’ it without no hurtin’. I always figured these fellers nary
felt pain.” Dax exclaimed. “I might-a chopped off me own parts if I’d known
that’n. Shur would-a stopped a whole lot ‘o ailing over th’ years. Just
thinking about it gets me all stoned up.” Dax continued vocally, his modest
cock rising to the thoughts of dickless boys dancing around in running water.
Benny reached out and squeezed Dax’s stiffening penis.
“Whoa there Beany-boy,” Dax exclaimed. “You ain’t no Sodomite, are ya?”
“Sodomite? You mean Gay? Yes, I am. There’s nothing wrong with it in my
world.” Benny said as though the 264 years between his modern and Dax’s
puritanical ways of thinking did not matter. “Guys can marry guys, and girls
can marry girls . . . well, in some states now anyway. I’ve known I like other
boys since I was really little. My cousin Seth has been fucking me since we
were 10. Besides, who’s gonna know way out here in space?”
Dax had to agree with the boy on that note, but the thoughts of sex gave him a
vision of the Abbot in the back of his mind pointing to a picture of the
Devil. His Protestant up-bringing forbid sex, except for procreation in the
marriage bed. The thought of two naked men intertwined in a sexual embrace
just for fun, made him shudder, and look for lightning; just as much as the
thought of himself being naked with a naked female, made him turn red. Still,
his penis was hard as a rock being around this naked boy with the black shinny
hair, sparkling brown eyes over an impish nose, and a cute smile. The boy’s
androgynous looks were a curiosity, that’s for sure.
“You are still really little, Wee Mite,” Dax chided, tousling Benny’s hair.
“If you like other boys, will you be wanting me?” Dax asked a little
apprehensively, blushing.
“Only if you want me, but I do think you’re hot,” Benny replied breathlessly.
“You can do me any time!”
“I don’t feel hot.” Dax mused, not knowing he was just paid a complement.
“What is ‘do me’?” he asked with a frown.
Benny just burst out laughing. “Dude, you’re so funny! Let’s go to my room,
and I’ll show you what to do!” Benny said between fits of laughter. He grabbed
Dax’s hand and led, half dragging him through the corridor to his new
quarters.
Dax was almost crazy with lust. His penis bobbed up and down to the sway of
his hips. His long hair was brushing side-to-side past his ample ass, and
bristling along his hard penis with each step, which only added fuel to the
fire burning in his gut. He was dripping pre-cum with each step, too.
When they arrived, Benny pushed Dax down on the bench and straddled his rock
hard penis. Dax watched in breathless amazement as the small boy mounted his
drooling cock. Benny’s tiny penis stood straight up against his abdomen and it
was a hard inch and a half tall. His pea-sized testicles were also drawn up
tight and his scrotum barely existed, because he was so excited. Benny’s
foreskin hung over his penis by another half-inch, and it had a tiny drop of
pre-cum pooling at its tip. Dax was startled by how tight the boy was, and how
sensitive and wet his own penis was. Dax started climaxing before Benny could
get him properly encased within his boy-pussy. They both started giggling;
Benny from seeing and feeling Dax’s excitement, Dax from sheer ecstasy after
all the many years of having nothing more than his own hand for relief.
Dax relaxed, and got sober. Realizing he still had part of his still-stiff
cock inside a mere boy, he looked away to the stars, out the window. The
feeling in his groin was too powerful. It was too much for his puritanical
upbringing to compete with. He returned his gaze toward Benny’s face. Benny
opened his eyes as the rush of heated genitals subsided, as if on cue. He
looked directly into Dax’s eyes. He saw the mirrored image of his dark brown
eyes in Dax’s blue-green. Benny leaned forward and kissed Dax on the mouth.
Dax was still reeling from the guilt of fornication, but his lust took over
again. This boy he had to have . . . and in a proper way. He returned the
kiss, but more powerfully. He picked Benny up, spread him out prone, and lay
down over him. He nuzzled the boy’s face with his nose, then kissed him deeply
again, his long hair engulfing both of them. Benny raised his legs up and
wrapped them around Dax’s hips, offering up his tight boy hole for another
plunging. Dax slowly nudged his stiff rod into Benny’s tightness, and swung
his head to toss away his long locks. He sucked in air as Benny slammed his
little ass into his groin, quickly impaling himself on the older teen’s cock.
Dax forged ahead in all the pent-up lust of many decades alone, plunging in
and out, over and over; with a force that only comes from a long bout of self-
imposed chastity. Dax’s nuts were being smashed, and Benny’s head was bumping
into the bulkhead of the bunk with each thrust . . . but neither one stopped.
Dax’s second climax in less than 10 minutes was much more powerful. He
actually saw stars . . . his head was spinning. He went limp and collapsed on
Benny. Benny had his own minor climax. He gripped his legs around Dax’s hips
trying to milk every drop of the older teen’s seed out of him, before Dax’s
limp cock slid out.
“How soon can you do that again?” Benny asked breathlessly.
“I don’t know. I didn’t mean to do that.” Dax said as he rolled over on his
side, staring up at the ceiling of the quarters. “I’ve never done anything
like that before.”
“You mean you’re a virgin?” Benny asked incredulously.
“Aye, mate, that I am . . . I never been with n’arn until now.” Dax replied
out loud with a tinge of guilt.
“Well, you can do it again as much as you want. You were great!” Benny
exclaimed.
“You don’t mind being plowed like a cunt?” Dax asked in all innocence. “Does
it not hurt?”
Benny laughed at Dax’s simpleness. He brushed Dax’s hair away from his face,
propped himself up on his elbow and said, “Dude, if I didn’t want it, you
wouldn’t be here. You have to remember I come from a different time than you.
Things are a lot different in 2010. People don’t have the same hang-ups they
did when you were my age. Besides, I don’t want to hurt your feelings or
anything . . . but my cousin Seth was a lot bigger.”
“What is a ‘hang-up’,” Dax asked slowly. “And,” he added as a second thought,
“I will have you know, I am 19. I know that’s not too fer away from 14.”
“A hang-up is something you want to do, but think you shouldn’t, because of
the way you were taught.” Benny answered, ignoring the overly proud way Dax
figured their age difference, but noticing Dax missed the jab about his pecker
size.
“How is it that you still look so young, after being on this ship for so many
years?” Benny asked suddenly. “And, why is your hair so long? I know many guys
from your time grew beards, but they still cut their hair.”
“I was shorn when I came on this ship. I’m still too young for a beard. M’
hair just grows out while I spend time with the Collective.” Dax answered. “I
don’t know why I never age. Maybe the Old One can tell. I never thought about
it before now. I still feel the same. I don’t feel old.”
“What is the Collective?” Benny asked, lying back on Dax’s arm. “Is it like a
sort-of stasis?”
“The Collective is where most of the ship’s residents are,” Dax replied. “They
exchange thoughts, and learn about each other. I don’t know what ‘stay-sis’
is, but I recon you ‘ould be very popular in the Collective . . . I can tell.
You are smart.” Dax said, rubbing Benny’s stomach and thumbing his tiny
foreskin. “When I go in, they make me smarter, and I make them dumber,” he
said with a chuckle.
“So it’s like a hive. When can I see it?” Benny asked.
“Well, the ship needs to record your you before you go in.” Dax mused.
“My ‘you’?” Benny repeated. “You mean scan me?”
“I suppose so,” Dax replied. “The Old One can tell you more about what they
do. But right this very minute, I want you all to myself.” Dax said tickling
Benny under his arms, which made the boy scream with giggles.
Dax ran his hands all over Benny, examining his every nuance. He rubbed his
fingers along the boy’s tiny balls and encouraged his tiny penis to come back
out for air. Benny arched his back and sighed. He ran his small hands through
Dax’s long hair, and traced his fingers along Dax’s broad chest. Dax’s penis
started to rise again from the boy’s attentions. They spent several hours in
Benny’s quarters, exploring each other, and making out once more, before they
noticed their surroundings, and several of the crew staring at them.
The Aged One slid forward and said, “Ah, it is good for The Dax to have a
companion, yes?”
“Yes, Old One, Dax is content.” Dax replied with his mind, without looking up
at the creature, or removing his semi-hard penis from Benny’s ass.
Benny looked up at the creature with a slight start, and shrank a bit from his
presence . . . but feeling Dax’s strength and calm; he remained, but looked at
the Aged One from Dax’s arm pit.
“Will we soon have a new The Dax?” the Aged One asked.
“No, Old One, this union will not produce off-spring.” Dax said smiling down
at Benny.
“Geez, they’re not big on privacy, are they?” Benny said out loud. “Hey, wait
a minute . . . They think I’m a girl?”
“They do not know about female humans, they have never seen a real one. But
they do know about courtship and companionship from my dreams, and the dreams
of others in the Collective.” Dax replied with his mind, directing it mainly
toward the crew, who were still standing around watching the two youths
intertwined in interest. “I told them all about how my peep works, and tried
to tell them what men do with it, but since I have never seen a naked woman, I
was unable to teach them about women. They have sex, but they don’t have it
for fun or pleasure. I guess they thought since I fucked you, you would get
pregnant.” Dax finished his thought, in Benny’s vernacular, grinning.
“Eww!” Benny said, his face contorted. “I like the fucking part, but I
wouldn’t want to get pregnant. It’s my tiny pecker and baby face, ain’t it?
Everyone always thinks I’m a girl!” Benny pouted.
Dax stood up. His slick penis popped out of Benny’s tight ass with an audible
sound that made Benny giggle out loud. The crew backed away from Dax as if he
had a deadly weapon, or an illness they weren’t too eager to catch. Benny rose
and stepped behind Dax, holding on to the older youth by his long hair.
“They seem afraid of you, why?” Benny asked.
“He was a terror to all the crew when he first came to us,” the Aged One said,
following Dax a little to the side. “He got bored easily. He had no one to
play with. I was afraid he would die from loneliness.”
“Why didn’t you send him home?” Benny asked.
“They can’t send me home, Benny. You can’t go home either.” Dax said
wistfully.
“What do you mean I can’t go home?” Benny faltered, his lip quivering.
“You have been regenerated, child. The Blue Planet would not suit you now.”
The Aged One said slowly, fearing Benny’s reaction. He recalled Dax’s reaction
to the same news so long ago, and slid forward with caution.
“Why did you come to Earth if you didn’t want anything to do with its people?”
Benny asked.
“We need the Blue Planet for New Ice.” The Aged One said.
“They have to visit Blue Planets . . . so they can make air.” Dax said. “You
and I were not supposed to be captured. It was accidental. There is nothing
they can do about it except put up with us.” Dax thought, pulling the saddened
boy close to his side.
“So, I guess New Ice is water?” Benny stated.
“Yes,” thought Dax and the Aged One together.
“Guess now I’ll never get my learners’ permit!” Benny cried.
“Why do need a permit for learning?” Dax asked.
“So I can drive,” Benny replied.
“Drive what . . . an Ox Cart?” Dax asked innocently.
“A car . . . Never mind. I guess a car isn’t my biggest concern now.” Benny
thought, and then his face screwed up again. “What about my Mom? I bet she
thinks I ran away. Damn it all Randy!” Benny cried.
Dax pulled the boy close to his side again, and allowed him to vent and sob in
his long hair.
They proceeded on down the corridor until they reached the control room. The
crew gave wide berth to Dax and Benny.
“Geez, these guys really are afraid of you,” Benny said again in Dax’s
direction, looking at the crew with eyes still red.
“Yes, they don’t forget.” Dax chuckled. “They think you will be just like me,
too.”
“He discovered my healing wand, one cycle after he arrived, and played tricks
with the crew.” The Aged One said, with an audible laughing tone.
“Yes, I played stick ball with the Ensign’s head a few times.” Dax said with a
huge grin.
“You played with his head?” Benny asked incredulously. “It didn’t kill him?”
“Naw, he doesn’t need it to do his job when he’s at the controls. His body
remembers everything even when his head is asleep . . . or missing!” Dax
laughed.
“As I said, he was a terror.” The Aged One said ruefully.
“Well, he’s the one who stuck my head on the wall and left it for 2 cycles
while they took apart my ass for studying.” Dax lamented.
“They can do that?” Benny exclaimed.
“You are part of the ship now, Benny. Everything about the ship will protect
you. It will keep you alive. That’s what happens when you are regenerated.”
Dax explained.
“So, I can put my head on a wall, and watch my body get dissected, and I can
have it back when they are through with it?” Benny asked in amazement. “So,
that’s why you look so young after all these years!”
Benny’s little devious mind was spinning. His little boner was sticking out
farther than it had ever been.
“Hah! Someone thinks that’s a funny thing!” Dax said, looking down at Benny’s
turgid little cock.
“Show me,” Benny demanded, completely unafraid of ‘loosing’ his head.
“Oh, dear, not another one!” the Aged One lamented.
Dax looked at the Aged One, then at Benny.
“Oh, very well, go ahead and show him. But leave the crew alone!” the Age One
said as he slithered off down another side corridor.
The crew relaxed knowing they wouldn’t be targets, and went about their duties
as though the two youths were invisible. Dax took Benny into the Science Lab.
Benny shuddered in the room a bit, remembering his recent experiences there.
Dax picked up the healing wand and waved it around, then showed it to Benny.
“This is the thing I was telling you about. I used to tease the crew with it.
I never knew it didn’t hurt to use it. I was a mean sucker when I first found
out I could never go home again.” Dax said.
“So, what do I have to do for the scan?” Benny asked.
“Nothing, except stand still,” Dax said with a smirking grin. “Look over
there.” He continued, and pointed to the opposite wall, while grabbing Benny’s
hair and turning his head in the direction he’d indicated.
Benny felt Dax’s hand grab his head with a handful of hair, and allowed Dax to
turn it for him, and then saw a flash of light in his peripheral vision. All
of a sudden he saw his body getting lower and lower to the table, but didn’t
feel anything. His head was turning around. He was facing Dax’s smiling face.
He looked down at his body lying on its side, where it had slumped over. It
was missing a head! His head!
Dax noticed Benny’s bewildered expression and thought, “Don’t try to talk just
yet. It will dry out your vocal cords. Think what you want to say, and I will
hear you,” his grin belying his protective tone.
“Wow, I didn’t feel anything.” Benny thought. “What are you going to do with
my head?”
“How about we go explore the ship, while the ship explores you?” Dax offered.
“Cool,” Benny thought. “Wait . . . I want to watch what the ship does to me.
You said I could.”
Dax hadn’t said any such thing, but relinquished. He held Benny’s head up high
by his hair, so the boy could watch his own dissection.
“Do you have to hold me like that? It’s starting to hurt.” Benny thought.
“Oh, I’m sorry. You are starting to recuperate.” Dax said.
“Recuperate? You mean my head can live without my body all the time?” Benny
thought.
“Yes and no. You should be part of the wall without your body. Your head will
last many cycles alone, but it’s no fun, unless I or someone else joins you.”
Dax replied.
“What do you mean by ‘join’?” Benny thought.
“Like this,” Dax thought, while lifting Benny’s head to his right shoulder,
and placing it alongside his own head.
Benny slowly began to get feelings back in his cheeks, and could move his
mouth. He stretched his jaw, and tried to turn his head. His mouth was right
beside Dax’s mouth. He was breathing with Dax’s lungs. It was all too unreal.
“Hey, my body is turning to mush!” Benny shouted suddenly, looking back at the
table. “Will I get it back like that?”
“No, the ship is figuring out what makes you, you.” Dax said matter-of-factly.
“Don’t fret about it, you will get it back just like it was.”
Benny watched in amazement as his legs came away from his torso, then his
arms, and little-by-little his hips separated from his waist, stomach, and
chest. His separate parts slowly dissolved into the Science Lab table as they
were each taken further apart by tiny beings no one could see. His tiny penis
was one of the last things to disappear. “It went down hard,” thought Benny.
Dax laughed.
“Oh, I forgot you can read my mind.” Benny said out loud.
“You know, there is something you can do about your little peeper, if you want
to. I mean, if it bothers you so much.” Dax offered.
“My size doesn’t bother me,” Benny defended himself. “I like it the way it is.
I never use it for anything except pissing. I sometimes think it would be nice
if I could stand up to piss, though. But if you want to do something to it, do
anything you want, I won’t mind. Hell, I’ve seen what my friends did to
theirs, and they sure seemed to like it. And now, my head is on someone else’s
shoulders. So, yeah, do what you want with my prick.”
“Well, I like it the way it is, too.” Dax said with a grin. “Pissing is
something you will never have to do again; crapping either.”
“What do you mean?” Benny asked.
“The ship takes care of all that for you. It feeds you, and waters you . . .
only what you need. No waste.” Dax replied.
“Well, far-out!” Benny exclaimed. “How long before they get through with the
rest of me?” Benny asked.
“Probably a half-cycle. You’re rather small, Wee Mite.” Dax chided.
“Fuck you, Adonis.” Benny laughed. “Is a cycle a day, or an hour? I’m so
horny. I’d really like you to fuck me again.”
“You are feeling me. I’m all stoned up from watching you come apart.” Dax
chuckled.
“Let me see this,” Benny said, taking the healing wand from Dax’s control.
“Whoa there, Beany-boy,” Dax said startled. “You don’t know how to use that
thing yet.”
“Sure I do, I watched you . . . er . . . I remember you using it.” Benny said
with a tad of uncertainness. “Like this?” he asked Dax, as he passed the wand
through Dax’s erection.
Benny laughed hard as he watched Dax’s hard penis hit the floor.
“Hey, come on . . . what’d yer do that fer.” Dax babbled, forgetting Benny’s
vernacular and rescinding into his Cockney.
“Aw, you miss it already?” Benny teased.
“Give me that,” Dax said taking back control of the wand, and his own arm.
He reached down and retrieved his penis. He turned it around and over, looking
at it from angles he’d never seen before. He held it up and tried to look
through the urethral opening, then through the urethra on the cut end, but the
thing was healing over. He looked down at the stub that was left attached to
him, and it was healing over, too. He rubbed his new stub. It grew out even
harder . . . harder that he’d ever known it could get.
“Let me see it,” Benny demanded, grabbing control of Dax’s severed penis and
arms.
He too had to inspect the dismembered unit. Benny got it too close to his
face, though. The cut-over end attached to his nose as fast as his head had
attached to Dax’s shoulder.
“Dude!” Benny exclaimed, shaking Dax’s penis side-to-side, letting it slap his
cheeks.
They both giggled over that, as Dax walked out of the Science Lab, and off
toward the Collective.
“Hey, I think I could get used to having someone else do all the work for me,”
Benny joked.
They arrived at the Collective, and Dax leaned against the wall membrane at
the end of the corridor. Benny felt a sensation similar to that when he was
regenerated. He saw thousands of beings, of all shapes, sizes, and obvious
different species. They all appeared to be in a trance, in different ‘pods’.
He could ‘hear’ a multitude of voices, sort of like a distant chorus, and the
humming of a swarm at the same time. It was exciting, a bit mesmerizing, and
confusing all at once.
“We can’t go in joined,” Dax said matter-of-factly. “I want you to experience
the Collective, but it will have to wait until you’re you again.”
“This is amazing. Are all these different things and creatures from other
worlds?” Benny asked.
“Yes,” Dax replied. “I spent a long time with these folks. Some of the places
I learn’t about is amazing.”
“Do you think we might be able to visit any of these other worlds?” Benny
asked. “I mean, ones that might allow us to breathe right . . . I mean, since
we can’t go back to Earth?”
“You know, I never thought about that. I’m sure there is, what with all these
folk in here.” Dax said in retrospect.
He turned around and merged out of the membrane into the corridor. Benny’s
face was sweating from the infusion of Dax’s hormones.
“I am really getting horny. Think I can get my own butt back now?” Benny
asked.
“We’ll see in a bit, Little Bit,” Dax quipped. “I need to ask the Old One how
to get my peep off your face.”
“Awe . . . and I was just getting used to it,” Benny chided. “Recon if I blow
my nose, it will get hard?” he added laughing.
“Who’s the funny one now?” Dax laughed.
The crew spread out again when they saw Dax enter the control room. The Aged
One was back at the consol reviewing the charts, when he saw Benny’s head
attached to Dax’s shoulder. He shook his head.
“I see you have been playing around again,” the Aged One said.
“I need you to show me how to remove my peep from his face.” Dax requested.
“Oh, and what about his head attached to your shoulder?” the Aged One asked.
“Is that to stay?”
“Oh, naw, I jes wanted to show ‘im ‘round while the ship poked at his
innards,” Dax replied vocally.
“Well, we are finished with his ‘scan’. You may separate now. Come . . . I’ll
teach you what you wish to know.” The Aged One said, slithering toward the
Science Lab.
Dax and Benny followed and waited patiently while the old creature gathered
his other tools.
“First, we’ll take your ‘fun part’ off this child’s face. Then we’ll put his
head back where it belongs,” said the Aged One.
The Aged One took Dax’s penis off Benny’s nose, with a glowing rod similar to
the one Dax used to separate Benny’s head from his body. He laid Dax’s penis
on the table. It sealed up as it had before. It looked like a piece of
sausage. Benny went cross-eyed trying to watch his nose go back to normal.
Next the Aged One took Benny’s head and removed it from Dax’s shoulder. But
instead of setting Benny on the table beside Dax’s penis, he slithered over to
another table and placed him in the middle of it. He slithered back to Dax,
and touched the wall membrane. The table where Benny’s head sat began to glow.
Benny saw the same white lights and the sparkling flashes before his eyes. He
closed his eyes and blacked-out momentarily. When the lights stopped, he came
to and found himself lying on the table just as he was before. He slowly
reached out and ran his hands over his torso, and then felt his face. He sat
up and looked around. He jumped off the table and ran over to Dax, grabbing
him around the waist.
“That was so cool! I can’t believe that just happened!” Benny shouted.
“Well, we know all we need to know about you child. Now we can fix what is
wrong with you,” the Aged One said.
“Fix what is wrong with me?” Benny asked.
“We can compare your readings to The Dax, and determine the error in your
make-up.” The Aged One stated matter-of-factly.
“I don’t think there is anything wrong with me,” Benny said, a little
defensively.
“Are you not ‘delayed’?” the Aged One said, waving his hairy arm over Benny’s
tiny genitals.
“I guess so . . . well, yeah . . . but I’m OK with it. I wish my penis was
longer sometimes, but Dax said I didn’t need it any more . . . so, I’m cool.”
Benny said, displaying some modern-day street attitude.
“Well, if you wish, you may be fixed.” The Aged One said. “Now, where should
you like The Dax ‘fun part’ to be?”
“What, this?” Benny exclaimed grabbing Dax’s severed penis and bouncing
around, as though daring Dax to chase him.
“Aw, come on, ya Wee Mite, gimme me peep,” Dax exclaimed.
The two youths wrestled around until Dax got his penis back, and held it high
enough that Benny couldn’t reach it.
“Please put it back where it came from, Old One, PLEASE!” Dax cried.
After the Aged One finished replacing Dax’s penis, and insisting he stand
still long enough to make sure it still worked, the two teens ran off to the
Collective; so Dax could introduce Benny to all of his friends and learn much
more of Benny’s version of the world they left behind.
“My Granny!” the Aged One said shaking his head, looking at the Ensign.
The Ensign smiled back at the old Being for mimicking Dax, and tossed his
head. “I guess The Dax won’t be such a terror now?”
“We can only hope,” said the Aged One, as he slithered away. “I’ll be in my
quarters if you need me.”
* * * |
New Friend, A | BI, TG, TESTICLES, Group watching castration | Finish to the two stories: A One Sided Marrage and She found a SissyThey were women who loved feminizing thier men, some wanted to take it step further: Castration of a sissy | ` `
A New Friend < a sequel to: She Found a Sissy > or < A One Sided Marriage: The
End>
By Donna Sash scarfsissy@cfl.rr.com
She had not had any time for herself in a while. Between her job as a nurse,
all the wild sex, and the special times at Shirley’s, life was full. Ever
since the castrations had started life had changed so much. She was living in
a kinky fantasyland, but it was real.
Julie loved how things were these days but still a girl needed some time for
her self. Today was the day. She came to Bardwell’s to get a new dress. Not
for work. Those ones were all the same, just the new woman executive. Today
she wanted to find an old fashioned 50’s type of dress. Tight at the top,
hugging her tummy, and a full skirt all in starched white, she wanted the look
of a housewife in the 50’s.
She was walking through the woman’s department when a scarf on a mannequin
caught her eye. All the women in her small group of friends in the castration
parties wore scarves, and this one was really pretty. It was black silk with
small orchids on it. As she felt the fabric the sales women came over. Ms.
Diane Watson had been at Bardwell’s for a long time now and spent many years
working the scarf counter. In those years she had met many new friends, in
fact it was only a few months ago that she had met Bobbie her new special
friend.
“Isn’t it pretty?”
“Yes. It caught my eye as I was walking by”.
“We just got in that line, the designer has lots of pretty scarves.”
“I just have to have this one, the girls will all be jealous.”
“Oh, you have some friends that wear scarves too?”
“I’m sure they must come here to get some of theirs, they all have such nice
ones.”
Julie took it and put it around her neck, she liked the way the colors of the
flowers looked.
“I’ll take it, I’m sure the men will find it sexy with one of my outfits, and
my husband will turn green when I wear it out.”
“You know most men like the look on pretty women, not too many these days know
just how to wear a scarf.”
“My girlfriends do. I always like the way each one of them uses their scarves
to accent. I’m not that much of a clothing horse. I am usually in a suit.”
“What is it that you do, dear?” Diane asked as she wrapped the scarf in a pink
box with a ribbon.
“I’m in lawyer. In fact I am here to find a new dress.”
“Really, the ones I have seen here seem so old fashioned.”
Julie smiled, “That’s just what I am looking for. Some men just seem to react
better to a housewife dressed like they remember from their childhood.”
Diane looked at her. She caught something underling in what she said.
“I think all men are just little boys. They want to have a woman like their
mother’s to take care of them and like a whore in bed.”
“That’s why my girlfriends and I, well forget it.”
“Your girlfriends and you do what?”
“I can’t really say, but we know all about men and their little fantasies.
Some of them come true, others, they find out who is really in charge, and we
are not mommies”.
“My Bobbie is only treated like a little sissy.” There she said it. Something
about this customer was telling her that there was something Ellen and she
could use on their little sissy boy. They were always looking for something
new to shock their sissy.
“You have a sissy?” Asked Julie. Julie had turned her husband into a sissy, a
cuckold, and then a eunuch.
“If I can be candid, yes. I met him right here. He was buying a scarf for
himself and things progressed from there.”
“It seems that there s a lot of that kind of thing going around these days’.
“I hadn’t noticed. I do so like a man who is in his panties.”
“And we like even less of them in their panties she laughed.”
What could she have meant by that.
“Listen dear, I am bout to go on break, may I come with you to look at the
dresses, maybe we could share some stories.”
“Sure if you want to.”
When Julie went to hand Diane her credit card, Diane said, “Lets just say its
something from one sissy owning woman to another.”
They went up to the dress section and it did not take Julie long to find just
what she was looking for. She went in to try it on and came out to show her
new friend.
“That would be very intimidating to my Bobbie.”
“You look just like June Cleaver.”
“To the men that see me in it I will be more like a disciplinarian. I’m sure
this will go over really good at out next party”.
They went to the food court. While having a coffee, Diane started to tell
Julie a little about her life with her sissy.
“Bobbie is under my discipline. My best friend Ellen and I have used spankings
and enema treatment to keep him in line. We also have introduced oral
training, both on female and male.”
“Really! You’ve turned your sissy into a cocksucker?”
“You should see him. Sometimes I think he likes cock better than pussy.
Although, he will always have to eat me to orgasm, I never let him have
intercourse. He is a virgin and I want to keep him that way always.”
“Its so easy to control a man. When I started seeing Alex, I kept him chaste
to a point. I had many lovers before him, but I wanted to keep him on a short
leash. Little did I know that after a time I would be keeping him on a “real”
leash? When I found out how tiny his cock was there was no way that was the
only prick that was going into my pussy. I started to train him. I made him
lick my cunt with his cum all over the lips; he did not want to, but after
that he ate my pussy no matter what condition it was in. I love the idea that
he is a chaste cuckold.”
“How do you keep him chaste, I keep Bobbie in a chastity belt.”
“I started Alex off in a chastity belt but I don’t need it anymore.” She said
with a smug smile.
“Oh why is that?”
“He is a eunuch!”
“Really? You had him castrated? How did that happen?”
“Dear, some secrets are better off kept. Lets just say if you ever want to
make your sissy a eunuch, we might be able to discuss it more.”
“I never really thought about it, maybe if I had some information, t might
help.”
“If you really want to know, we can make an appointment with a Dr. She can
explain it all to you. Anyway I have to be going, here is my card. You think
about it and maybe I can get you in to see her.”
Diane had lots to think about. Castration, could she really do that to Bobbie?
She really loved to keep him frustrated. Denying him orgasm was fun. Later
that evening Ellen came over and they discussed what had transpired that day.
Bobbie of course was sent down to the playroom and was in bondage awaiting his
nightly torture at their hands.
“What do you think? Should a sissy be castrated?”
“I don’t know. We do have so much fun with him the way he is. I love it when
we get him so close and make him wait. His frustration is such a turn on.
Moreover, I don’t know if I ever expressed just how much I appreciate how you
share him with me. I really would love to get a boy of my own.”
“How about if I make an appointment and you come with me?”
“Sure that would be ok.”
“Lets get the enema bag and go have some fun.”
The next day she called Julie at her work number and got an appointment to see
the Dr.
Ellen and Diane were wondering what kind of doctor would have a consulting
meeting at a dinner. Valhalla was a known Feminist hangout. It was known for
radicals and lesbian activities. Neither of the girls had ever been there
before but ordered a nice meal. Julie came over to the table and introduced
Dr. Deborah Johnson, a female specialist.
“Julie tells me you might be interested in having your sissy become a eunuch,
is that true?”
Diane spoke, “I don’t really know. I have heard of that kind of thing all my
life; I really did not think these things still went on. Actually Ellen and I
like having Bobbie with working genitals. It is a lot of fun.”
“You are right. Castration is not for everyone. Many of the women who come to
me do so for many different reasons. Some have cheating husbands, others
aren’t satisfies with the length of their husbands penis and can’t orgasm with
him, others just want to have a docile slave.”
“Do these women like the results?”
“Ask Julie, her husband was one of the first here in this city.”
“One of the first? How many eunuchs are they’re walking around?”
“I’ve done around 30 since moving here. Listen, would you two like to come and
see for your selves what goes on at a sissy castration?”
“Sure, I mean could we?”
Dr. Johnson took out her cell phone and called Shirley, “Hon are you and Sara
ready for Saturday night?”
“Donna knows that something special is going to happen, but not what. I’m so
happy. Sara is going to be here.”
“Do you mind if I invite some one to the castration?”
“Who do you have in mind?”
“Two friends of Julie, they have their own sissy, but are not sure if the want
to make him a her yet.”
“Tell you what, f they want to come they should bring their sissy, and we all
can have some fun in the outer room before the main event.”
“I think that will work out. Bye.”
“Here is the deal, you bring Bobbie with you, we all have some fun teasing
your sissy, and then leave him bound while we all go into the room where the
castration will take place. We never want a male to know what goes on in that
room till they are tight in the char and their fate is sealed.”
“That sounds really nice, how about you Ellen, are you ready to see your first
sissy castration?”
“Girls, I have to tell you, my pussy is on fire at the thought. I can’t wait.”
“Then it’s all set, we will see you at Shirley’s on Sat. evening, later
girls.” Moreover, Dr. Johnson the castrator left the table.
“Julie, you have been so nice to us, might you like to come over and meet
Bobbie? I’m sure he would be happy to make you feel good.”
“Really, that might be nice, and I always like to meet a new sissy. Sure”.
They left and met at Diane’s house. After all the times Ellen had been here
for their kinky games, she felt right at home. Bobbie was dressed in his pink
maids uniform. It was just a day ware not to frilly but very feminine, a white
lace trimmed apron adorned her and on her head was not a maid’s cap, but a
scarf tied at the nape of her neck. He looked up just expecting to see his
mistress, and was very surprised to see Auntie Ellen and another woman.
“Bobbie, come over here and meet a new friend.”
Bobbie came over and curtsied for Julie.
“Julie, this is sissy Bobbie, and Bobbie, this is Mistress Julie, you will
treat her as if she was myself or Aunty Ellen, do you understand?
Bobbie had learned that he was not to question his mistress about anything,
especially when a new person was there and he was on display.
“Yes Mommy, I understand that Mistress Julie is to be another Aunty and all
that it means to be an Aunty.”
“Then I think you should make us something cool to drink and after serving us
come and join us”
Bobbie went and made some ice tea, brought it out on a silver tray, and went
about serving all the women, guest first of course. When done he came back
into the room curtsied and kneeled in front of Mommy.
“Honey, Aunty Julie has a sissy husband. She knows all about sissies like you.
Do you have any demerits?”
“Mommy, I have 10 demerits. I was given them because you found some dust on
the curios.”
“What is the punishment for 10 demerits?”
He looked at this new woman sitting here with him during this interrogation.
He was very humiliated. He hated having to tell this punishment, but also knew
that not to tell it all would just make it worse.
“My punishment should be an enema, with a holding tip so that I can be spanked
before I let it out.”
Julie broke out laughing. “This is great! I actually haven’t heard a sissy
before telling his own punishments.”
Bobbie broke out in some very red cheeks, and his embarrassment was total. He
was being laughed at just after meeting a new friend.
Diane and Ellen joined in, in the laughter.
“Julie, would you like to help us punish Bobbie?”
“I would love to.”
They all went down to the basement. Bobbie took off his apron and pink
uniform. He stood next to the OB-Gyn chair. He stood there in just his bra,
panties, stockings attached to a matching garter belt, and his heels.
Mommy took down his panties. “Julie, our sissy isn’t very well endowed that’s
part of why he is kept in panties.”
“Diane, his little prick is the usual for a sissy.” She walked over to Bobbie
and took his balls in hand. “This is pretty much what I expected.”
Bobbie was once again starting with the red cheeks. He knew that his cock
wasn’t too big, but it was always embarrassing to have it pointed out to him,
especially by a woman who he did not know.
“Ok Bobbie, hop up and we’ll strap you in.”
Bobbie climbed into the chair, it was set so he was slouched down, and he put
his knees in place and his feet in the stirrups. Mommy tightened the straps at
his knees and ankles. As usual he tried to strain against his bindings to see
if they were truly holding him in place. They did. He couldn’t move out of his
position. He had suffered many indignities in this chair; he knew that tonight
would be no different. Although there was a difference, he looked at this
woman he had just met. He was embarrassed at the fact he had met her dressed
as a sissy, and the fact that she was here at his discipline session.
Julie came next to him, smiled, and once again reached for his sissy balls.
“Bobbie, have you ever been spooned?”
“I don’t know what that is, so maybe I have been and don’t know it.”
“Honey, after you have been spooned you will know it. Diane, do you have a
large wooden spoon, or at least a metal one?”
Dine went to the pantry and came back with one of each.
“Now Bobbie, being spooned is when a Mistress takes a spoon and uses it on
your balls.” With that she cracked his right nut with the spoon.
“Owwwwww” he cried.
“See if you had felt a spoon you would have remembered it.” She smiled.
“Want to try?” She asked Ellen.
Ellen took the metal spoon and cracked him a few times. With each Bobbie let
out a yelp of pain.
“I always like to get the attention of a sissy through their balls. Since they
are still males, it would seem that they live through their precious little
nuts.” Julie said as she squeezed them again.
Diane had only used CBT sparingly on Bobbie but she saw that Julie really took
control quickly through his balls. She thought any participating in these
castrations must know how to use these vulnerable parts of a man’s body to her
ends.
Diane got out the enema with the long nozzle. She loved it when she put it in
his ass, but tonight she was going to let him feel mostly everything at
Julie’s hand. She wanted to see how another woman tormented a sissy.
“Julie, would you like to do the honors?” She held out the nozzle.
“Sure if you don’t mind. It has been a while since I played with a sissy like
yours.”
Diane knew what she meant, because her’s was a eunuch. She thought about it
some more. She held Bobbie’s balls in her hand as Julie worked some KY into
the sissy’s ass. What would he be like with out these? He is so submissive
right now. Ellen and I can do anything we like to him and he never protests,
how much more docile can he get?
Julie for her part was having fun. She had put on a pair of latex gloves and
was feeling the insides of this cute little boy tied in his lingerie. She did
miss the fact that her husband never got hard like this sissy when she played
these kinds of games with him. Nevertheless, she did get her share of hard
cock. All those men, so many cocks.
“How does that feel Bobbie? I can tell from the look on your face you like
having your ass hole played with. Do you like it when a stranger puts her
fingers in your ass?”
“It is embarrassing, but yes it feels nice. Mommy and aunty Ellen do it all
the time to me.”
Diane was pleased so far with Bobbie’s behavior, she hoped when the spankings
started and he was filled he would keep the same.
Ellen did not watch these first steps. She was in the other room getting the
bag ready. She was using the large 3 quart one tonight and he was going to
make the solution heavy. She added and extra dose of the soap, knowing that it
would be really irritating. Enemas were a lot of fun. She even liked it when
she would get one, but hers were more for pleasure and not s a punishment.
When she entered the room she saw that Bobbie was ready. She hung the bag on
the stand and attached the hose and nozzle.
Julie took it and worked some Ky on it.
“Here we go, Bobbie.”
Bobbie looked at his new tormentor. She was a pretty woman, but she had a
cruel look on her face.
Julie placed the nozzle at the entrance to Bobbie’s body and pushed it in
harshly. This was a punishment enema, as she well knew and that meant no
mercy. She then squeezed the bulb to fill the inside bag with air holding it
in place and when she saw him react to the pressure she then filled the outer.
“Ok, Bobbie, here it comes.” Moreover, she released the petcock.
The water was hot and Bobbie could feel it growing in side him. He had taken
many enemas, right here in this chair. He knew that this would be a rough one.
As it slowly filled him he started to feel the pressure growing. The first
cramp hit him. Diane came over and held his hand. He was happy to feel her
love for him. He started to sweat. His make up started to melt on his
forehead. He felt it going deeper and deeper into his body as the warmth
filled his insides. He could feel the soap working on his intestines. Already
he wanted to evacuate. He knew that he could not and it would be a while
before he could. As the pressure built he thought about what would come next.
Julie was watching his face as he went through the different sensations. She
loved this, as did both Diane and Ellen.
“Almost done, your about 2/3 through the bag.”
Finley hi was filled and the bag empty. He was already feeling full. The
pressure in had built to an uncomfortable level and still was not all the way
there. He knew from past experiences that the feelings he was having now would
increase as time when on. He already wanted to relieve himself. His body was
telling him to sit at a toilet now. The enema nozzle would not let him go. He
could not go until someone released him.
“Now I think we all agreed that a spanking was in order.” His Mommy said.
“Lets go over to the stocks and get you installed.”
They walked over to the spanking block on the other side of the room. Just the
waddling brought him more pressure. He was leaned over the block and his
wrists were strapped to the legs of the block. His skirt and petticoats were
raised and he was strapped around the waist. His legs were opened and attached
with leather bindings. His enema tube was sticking out of his ass. He was
ready. He could not move and his body pressing on his tummy was assign to the
growing pressure.
Mommy took a strop from the wall and gave him 10 strokes. He wailed with each
stroke as his ass reddened. His Aunty took a riding crop and gave him 10. He
was really in misery. He had taken lot of spankings over the last year, but
few were on top of an enema. Tears were coming from his sissy eyes.
“Julie would you like to try him out? I know that a first spanking on a new
sissy can be real fun.”
“I was hoping you would ask.”
Julie went over to the wall and inspected what was there for her to use on
him. She saw a twase. She took it and went over to the sissy; she took his
face in her hand and raised it so he could see into her eyes. He still had
tears dripping down and suck a cute look of submission and hurt, which she
just had to smile at.
“Don’t worry dear, I know how to spank a sissy. My husband is spanked often. I
hope you don’t mind that I am going to give you some pain. Your pain and tears
are for my pleasure, they re also given to your Mommy and Aunty. You must
understand that women rule your life. The pain you suffer is your sacrifice to
all the women that have suffered at the hands of men since the beginnings of
mankind. The suffering you do, is for all of them. The clothing you wear is to
symbolize that you understand, women are your rulers, women now have the power
over you, and now I am the woman representing all the women of the world, and
I am going to make your ass feel it. Cry sissy, cry real tears and show me
that you understand, cry and grow hard on, let your little sissy cock get
engorged with your blood. I want you to be stimulated by the pain you suffer
for me.”
She let his face drop and went to his behind; she raised her arm and brought
it down full force. The crack of leather and skin filled the room. He let out
a cry from deep within him. The sting, then the fire he felt stiffened his
whole body, and this was only the first. With each stroke of the twase he
arched repeatedly, his cries were true cries. The tears he shed were real. The
pain he felt was real, as was the alarming pressure in his tummy, which was
crying out to be released.
She came again and held hi face; she saw that her spanking had made an
impression on him. She was pleased.
He was released from the block and brought over to the special potty. Julie
put on the elbow length latex gloves and as she looked into his tortured eyes
and released the outside bulb.
“Would you like me to let your other one go, so you can let out your enema?”
“Please, Aunty Julie, would you please allow me release?”
“How bad do you want it?”
“Please!” He cried. “I beg of you, it is hurting my insides.”
Mommy and Auntie were so pleased to see him begging this woman. They knew he
was truly submissive to her. They both loved to see him squirm.
“What would you promise me?”
“I can only promise what Mommy will allow. I can’t make any thoughts of my own
in this matter.”
“If your Mommy would allow it, would you lick me? Would you make me cum with
your tongue?” She had his balls in her hand and waiting for an answer she
squeezed them. She heard him cry out!
“I will do anything Mommy allows. If Mommy wants I would please you. Oh
Please, I need to go so bad. Please. May I go?”
Julie looked to Diane and saw the look in her eyes that told her she had
tormented him enough and that she would let her sissy please her. Julie smiled
and released the final bulb from his ass and pulled it out. She was impressed
that he still did not let it go.
“Please Mommy, may I?”
“Yes dear, show us how you shit!”
It was an explosive burst. The sissy started to cry it was so bad. Each of the
women enjoyed the torment they had put Bobbie though was enough to get each of
their pussies wet. Julie was working her legs against each other in a gentle
masturbation. The idea of Bobbie eating her pussy after all this torment had
her blood pressure up, looking at the sissy sitting there on the toilet
suffering as she let out her enema was a turn on in and of its self. Bobbie
looked at her and their eyes met. Julie smiled with a dominant look. Bobbie
just flushed even more. Bobbie had been in this position many times before.
Sitting on the potty evacuating the pressure of the enema, letting himself be
opened for all to see. The difference this time was Julie. The pretty woman
had used him. She had filled him and beet him. She had shown no mercy and he
new that his next torment was to work to be pleasing to her. He would place
his face in her lap for her pleasure.
It was time to get off the potty. He was done. He already felt wasted.
Spankings took a lot out of a sissy. A spanking on top of an enema was a lot
to suffer.
He was told to take off his clothing. He was put in the shower stall and
sprayed with warm water all over. Aunty soaped him all over then Mommy rinsed
him off. A scarf was placed on his head to hold his hair back. He was put in a
pretty baby doll nightie in shear pink with lace trim. His panties were pulled
up. Aunty Julie is waiting in your room on your bed. You are to treat her to
anything she wants. You will please her just as if it was Aunty Diane or
myself. Anything she wants, or you will be punished stricter than you already
have been tonight.
Bobbie went to the sissy room and saw that Aunty Julie had taken off her outer
clothing and was lying there in just her bra, panties, and neckerchief. He
went to her. She motioned him to bring his face to her panties.
“Do you smell me? Can you tell how turned on I am? I am very ready to feel
good. You are going to make me feel good. Take my panties off.”
Bobbie lowered her panty and lowered then down the legs of this woman he had
just met. He had suffered at her hands and now it was his time to please her.
“Sissy boy, I want you to start to lick me. Nice and softly. I am in no hurry.
Take your time and let it build.”
He lowered his head and stuck out his tongue. He worked it around her muff. He
could taste her secretions. He slowly licked at her outer pussy lips. The
smooth flesh felt good on his tongue. He really loved eating pussy. It was one
of those things where he was satisfied just by making the person feel good. He
could feel her responding to his oral touch.
For her part, she was feeling good. Her cunt was already on fire. All the
activities of the afternoon had made her as hot as she had been in a while.
This sissy knew how to eat pussy. His tongue was touching all of the places
that teased a pussy. She could not help her self from feeling small climaxes
even though she was not ready to cum yet. He was good though. She felt him
starting to reach deeper into her. He was lapping at her innermost folds and
it was sending ripples of pleasure through out her whole body. Then he licked
up the whole vulva and circled her clitoris. That was all it took. She felt
the orgasm starting deep with in her body. She started to scream out in
pleasure as wave after wave of her orgasm rippled through out her whole being.
He not only felt her cumming, but also tasted he female cum. He loved the fact
that he could cause this to happen. He was content that he was giving of
himself.
She loved the way he sensed her orgasm was over and licked her tenderly
instead of trying to keep it the pressure on. Her owner had trained her sissy
very well.
“That was nice. I want you to kneel next to me.”
When Bobbie was kneeling, she put her hand on his little sissy balls.
“Its too bad you are in chastity. I would love to see your tiny little
cocklette spurt your cream.”
“Mommy only lets me have an orgasm on special occasions.”
“Isn’t this a special occasion?”
“Yes, Auntie Julie, but I am not the one who decides if it is special enough.”
“You look so cute in your lingerie and scarf, maybe if I asked your mommy she
would let me. Go and get her for me.”
Bobbie went back to the living room where Mommy and Aunty Diane were sitting.
“Mommy, if you please, Aunty Julie wants to ask you something.”
She followed her sissy thinking she knew what was to be asked.
When she entered the sissy room she was pleased to see her new friend lying
there all satisfied. Julie looked like the cat who had just been eaten by the
canary.
“Diane, I have had such a nice day, I was wondering if I might be able to
masturbate your sissy. He has given me such pleasure today I wanted to make it
special for him too.”
“Bobbie has already had his orgasm for this month. I think that it might be
ok; after all it is kind of special today. Bobbie, what do you think?”
“Mommy, your wishes in this matter are all that matters. I am your sissy and
will always do as instructed’
Diane was so pleased with this answer that she took the key from around her
neck and took off the sissies chastity belt.
“Julie, if you want, you may jerk off this sissy, but I will not ever let his
tiny cock in a woman’s mouth or pussy.’
“You are so right. No sissy should ever enter a woman, maybe another sissy,
but never a woman.”
“Do you mind if Ellen and I watch?”
“Mind, he he not at all.”
She called Ellen in and saw as Julie started to rub the sissies cock. Julie
stroked him softly. When the little cock was as hard and big as it would get,
Julie put a finger up his ass.
“Please, may I cum?”
“Not yet, I am not ready for it.”
Bobbie was having a really hard time. He wanted to cum so bad; he knew that he
would be severely punished if he came without permission.
Julie watched the agony he was in. She could see the fight he was outing up to
keep from cumming till it was time.
“Now, Bobbie, let your sissy cum out. Cum at the orders of a woman.”
Cum he did. Three good spurts came out of his little cock, each landing on
Julie’s hand or belly.
When the sissy was spent, Julie told him to lick it al up and not to waist a
drop.
After Bobbie had cleaned all his cum off her, Julie took the chastity and
reinstalled it on his cock.
“Go now little one I have to get dressed.”
When Julie finished dressing she came back into the living room and thanked
Diane and Ellen for a really interesting afternoon, and left.
Diane and Ellen talked about the day’s happenings and about what might happen
this Saturday night. Both of them were ready for a good time out. They knew
that what ever happened it would be an unusual time.
On Saturday afternoon Diane started preparations. She had Bobbie give her a
bath; wash set her hair and put a scarf on her rollers. Bobbie started working
on Mommies makeup. The doorbell rang and it was Aunty Ellen, her hair was also
set and not only a scarf to hold her rollers in place but a nice net under it.
For the next hour Bobbie helped the women getting ready. Diane had suggested
wearing some 50’s housewife dresses like the one Julie had bought on the day
they met. Neither Diane nor Ellen really knew what to wear to a castration. It
had been decided that they would follow Julie’s example and dress the way a
Mommy might have in the 50’s. After having the rollers taken out of their hair
Bobbi had done each of their hair do’s in a fluffy but sprayed Up Do.
The women also dressed Bobbie. They put her in her frilliest lingerie. More
lace than anything else, her panties were so sissy. A nice training bra, no
falsies today, followed by a camisole and half-slip, four layers of petticoats
were added and the purple satin little girls party dress with lace trim and a
lace tie, that was made into a pretty bow in the back. They put a pair of Mary
Jane’s on his feet, a special pair with a 3” court heel. His makeup was done
in little girl whore fashion. He had natural colors except for his lipstick.
It was bright red. They put on his little girl coat and tied a headscarf over
his curls and they left for an exciting night.
Upon arriving at Shirley’s house the door was opened by Donna. Donna was in a
pink maid’s dress, it was very frilly and had a lace and shear nylon apron. In
her head was a pink floral scarf tied as a headband. Donna’s makeup was a
little more severe than Bobbie’s. They were brought into the living room where
introductions were made.
Julie introduced Diane and Ellen to Shirley, Sara, and Dr. Deborah Johnson.
Sitting over on a couch were their husbands, Hennery, and Alex. Castrated and
made into sissy cuckolds, they were not in the conversation at all. They were
dressed in a sissy style, short skirts, feminine blouses, and neckerchiefs.
What was interesting was that each had is wrists and ankles bound with a
scarf, and each had another scarf gag in their mouths.
Julie explained that their husbands were there as ornaments only and would not
be participating in tonight’s fun.
Everyone, I would like to introduce Bobbie. Bobbie has been with me for around
a year now. Ellen and I have been training him as a sissy boy. When we first
met he had taken the first steps on his own, we have helped him along bringing
him much further than he would have ever gone on his own.
Bobbie curtsied to each of the women in turn. Diane took off his coat and each
of the women smiled at his pretty dress.
Donna returned with a tray in her hand, served white wine to each of the
women, and then took a place next to Bobbie. The two sissies looked cute next
to each other.
“Donna, take Bobbies, scarf from her hair, and we can all see the results of
her first perm.”
Donna untied the knot at the other boy’s neck, looking into his eyes he knew
that Bobbie understood that both of them were really going to be put through
their paces tonight. Each would be humiliated and embarrassed through and
through. Of course neither of them knew the ultimate end it would come to, but
they both knew that they would be doing things to make these dominant women
happy.
Bobbie knew the same thing. He thought that Donna made very attractive sissy.
He liked the way Donna worked her painted fingers at her neck. Bobbie had had
some loving from other sissies in the past year and although he was not
homosexual, he had enjoyed playing with another sissy more than the men he had
been forced to suck off.
Donna left the pretty scarf on Bobbie’s shoulder and stood back.
“I love your new hair, Bobbie.” Said Julie. “It s much cuter than the other
afternoon.”
“Boys.” Said Shirley, “I think we should all go down to the play room.”
With that they all wet downstairs, except for the bound eunuch sissy husbands,
who were left to their own. Each of them knew what was going to happen
tonight. Each had been strapped into that chair in the special castration
room. Each had left his manhood in there. Each had been emasculated by these
women that they had married and their friends. Each knew the horror of
castration and cuckoldry. Each of them knew that their places with their wives
was now a place of servitude and worship, the or else was to spend a live as a
man who was of no use to women at all.
When they all arrived down stairs Diane, Ellen and even Bobbie were impressed
with the torture chamber they saw. There were implements of bondage and
spanking on the walls. The center place was a chair/table with restraints on
it. It had movable sections that would allow who ever was doing the torture to
have access to any part of the body they wanted.
“Donna, Take off bobbies dress and hang it up for us.” Said Shirley.
Donna came over to Bobbie and untied the bow unzipped the dress and took it
off of him. Bobbie stood there in his sissy lingerie. He hated the first
exposé to new women. It was worse tonight than the other day. On Wed. it was
just Julie, but tonight there were 3 women he had just met and here he was
exposed as a true sissy to them.
“Ok, clime up here,’ she said tapping the bondage table.
Bobbie lay down on the table. It was set so the legs when bound would come
apart and open his legs. Diane took off his lace sissy panties, as Sara took
each leg in turn and strapped it to the table. Bobbie looked at Sara. He knew
that this was a woman who was used to handling men. Ellen came over to him and
looked into his eyes.
“Sweetie, tonight you are going to make us all happy. You have shown your
Mommy and I just how you can be pleasing to us, tonight I want you to be in
your best behavior and make us proud of you. It ok to cry and even call out in
your suffering, but you still can take it. I want you to know that each one of
us will get wet in our panties. Women like us need to have a sissy to torment.
We need you. Moreover, sweetie, you need us. A sissy like you would not be
fulfilled with out this kind of treatment.” Ellen stepped back.
Bobbie realized that as she was speaking to him the others had finished
binding him to the table. Mommy came over to him and took the key from her
neck.
“Bobbie, I am going to take off your chastity now. You realize that even with
it off, if you have an orgasm with out permission, your torment will become
real punishment instead of play, don’t you.”
“Yes, Mommy,” the sissy said.
Ellen came over with a penis gag. She had Bobbie open up, placed the plastic
cock in his mouth, and buckled it behind his head. Shirley took his scarf that
he had worn in earlier, rolled it up, and tied it on his head as a blindfold.
Each of the women took a set of light clamps and placed them biting him on
some part of his body. Mommy put one on each ball, Ellen on his sissy cock,
Julie did his breasts, Sara did his tummy, Shirley did something kind of new,
she put one on each ear lobe like nice earrings. Dr. Johnson just watched. She
loved seeing a man treated like this. She thought all men should become a
sissy toy at the hands of a woman. For all time, women had suffered at the
hands of men. It was only now that women were taking their revenge on mankind.
She was a leader in this movement. For years now her greatest pleasure was
taking a man’s balls in her hand and cutting them from him. She knew that she
would be doing this tonight to Donna; she hoped in the future she could handle
this sissy too.
Sara in her nurse’s uniform had gone and gotten a stainless steal bowl and
filled it with hot water and soap. Bobbie’s first torment was to be bulb
enemaed. The girls would take turns filling him. They would not let him expel
till they all had put a few up his ass. Bobbie liked this kind of enema. It
was an intimate thing for a woman to push the bulb in him and squeeze. Mommy
was at his head holding it giving him comfort. Bobbie realized that maybe he
was not going to get the worst kind of treatment tonight. Usually when he got
this kind of enema, he was in for a playful night. Even playful nights were
humiliating but the did not cause him the kind of pain he knew. When it was
time Mommy told him to let it loose. Sara, whose hands and arms were in long
latex gloves held the pan under him and he excreted the enema. He blushed as
the farting noise came and the relief from the pressure. They played with him
for about an hour putting him through mild CBT. He was then taken from the
table.
“Bobbie, please be a good sissy and take off Donna’s uniform and hang it up
next to yours,” Said Shirley.
Bobbie came to the other sissy, took off her apron first, and then took off
her dress. Much like Bobbie her lingerie was in sissy pink and very feminine.
He unlike Bobbie had on his bra with falsies in it. Go ahead, Bobbie take his
bra off too.
Donna now stood there in high heels a garter belt holding her black stockings
and her panties, the only other thing he had on was the scarf in his hair.
“Donna, You are going to give Bobbie head now. I want you to show Diane and
Ellen just how good you have become as a cocksucker.”
Donna got on her knees and took the sissy’s little cock in her mouth. It
tasted sweet. Donna loved to have sissy cock in her mouth. She loved eating
pussy, and his wife, Shirley had him do this most every night, and many times
with cum form one of her lovers. Donna really did not like eating sperm from
her pussy, but he did it as well as he could not to be punished. He also gave
head to many of his wife’s lovers. He did not like that as much as a sissy
cocks. Most men when there had a sissy n their cocks became really rough. Many
of them hurt her as their cocks were so large she had to open up really wide
to take them.
Bobbie had not had his cock sucked n a long time. He was lucky if Mommy even
let him cum by her or his own hand. Now he had his little sissy cock in the
mouth of Donna, another sissy. His tiny cock felt so good. Bobbie looked down
at the sissy head bobbing on him. His legs were weak; he had not felt anything
like this in such a long time. He knew that he would have a hard time keeping
from cumming in a sissy mouth. He also knew if the came with out permission
that his mistress would punish him greatly. However, his cock felt so hot in
the warm mouth, as it went up and down on the tiny prick. The lips felt like
heaven, their painted surface gliding over his skin on his sex glands.
Donna was having fun for a change. He liked the way it felt in his mouth. The
sissy cock was just right, the taste of his skin, the little drip of precum,
and the salty sweat, made him work his lipsticked lips suckle the tiny penis.
He wondered if he might get his too. He licked at the head and at times when
the head was almost out of his mouth he stuck his tongue into the piss hole.
Donna did not think of himself as gay, and really did not like sucking men,
but having this sissy cock was so sweet.
Of course all of this action was not lost on the women watching. Each of them
was lost in their thoughts of this sexy spectacle in front of them. Seeing
these feminized boys having oral sex was a turn on. They all were getting even
wetter in their panties than they were just a little while ago during the
torment section of the fun.
Diane was looking for signs of her little sissy boy about to reach an orgasm.
She could tell that Bobbie was almost ready. She told Bobbie that he could not
cum. She saw the look of terror on his face. She knew that he could not last
long. She waited until she thought he could not last any longer.
“Donna, stop sucking him this instant.”
Donna took his mouth off the prick instantly. Bobbie sighed in frustration.
His little red cock hung there sticking out obscenely. The women laughed.
“No cumming for you right now, honey, maybe later. Now I think you should help
your new friend like he helped you.”
Bobbie took his place on his knees and took Donna in his mouth. Bobbie loved
to suck cock. He really loved pussy more, but in the last year he had learned
not only how to, but also to like sucking cock. Unlike Donna, he loved it when
men dominated his mouth with their real man cocks. As a really submissive, he
took to it like a fish takes to water. Sure he was still humiliated the first
time he took a new man in his mouth, but once it was there he liked it. He
liked this one too. It was so small it was like a piece of human candy. Bobbie
worked it like it was the last cock on earth.
Donna was thrusting into his new girlfriends mouth. Even though he knew that
Bobbie was a man, he thought of the lingerie dressed sissy as a special
girlfriend. She looked so sweet in her feminine things, even to the scarf on
her head to keep the curls clean and out of the way as he sucked.
The women were whispering to each other about what was to be Donna’s last cum.
Donna, of course did not know yet what was going to happen, but the women were
awaiting the finish to this first part of the night’s entertainment. Shirley
came over to her husband. She smiled at him seeing the heat in his face. She
had not let him have an orgasm in over two months. She knew that he had a lot
built up.
“Donna, would you like to cum tonight?”
“If it would be pleasing to you, yes Madam.”
“Then you may. I want you to let all of your sperm into Bobbie’s mouth. Make
that sissy eat your cum as I have made you eat the cum of so many of my
lovers.”
Cum. Yes, that is just what Donna did. After getting permission, it did not
take but another minuet. He filled the sissy’s mouth with spurt after spurt of
hot jizz. It felt so good to let it all come out. His knees were weak as the
lust came out of his sissy prick.
Bobbie was ready. He felt the tiny cock in his mouth start to flair and then
spurt. The sweet cum filled his mouth as his body still filled with
frustration after having not been able to cum him self. He did like the idea
that he was satisfying his new girlfriend. His own cock was still as hard as a
rod.
When they separated, Julie and Diane took Bobbie and strapped him on the
table. They took the scarf off his head and blindfolded him.
Shirley took Donna to the door he had never entered.
“Donna, tonight we are going to do something special.”
She unlocked the door to the castration room. Donna did not know about what
had happened in here. He knew hat men would come over with their wives and
sometimes other women and enter that room. No matter who it was when they
exited, they wee not happy. Each man that visited his Mistress and went in
there came out different in some way. He was scared.
Diane and Ellen were with Donna telling him that he was to wait there bound
and think of how nice life was as a sissy with them. Diane reattached his
chastity and they left him.
Donna entered the room. Shirley held his hand.
“Did you enjoy your orgasm?”
“Yes maan, thank you very much.”
“Its ok dear, this is where you finally become the wife that I have been
making you into for all this time.” As she said this she led him to the chair
in the middle of the room. She took off his panties and sat him down. She kept
on talking to him. “Tonight really is going to be special.” Julie and Sra were
using the belts on the chair to strap him into position. “You are going to
begin a new part of your life.” Dr. Johnson was at the sink at the other end
of the room, she was taking interments out of the cabinet and setting them on
a tray. Shirley noticed that Donna was secure. Donna tonight we are going to
castrate you.”
“What?” Donna cried.
“Honey tonight you become the sissy for real. We are going to geld you, take
your balls, that orgasm you experienced, and I am glad you got to have one and
especially at the lips of such a sweet silly like yourself, It is to be your
last.”
Donna started to pull at his restraints.
‘No! Please, you can’ do that. I have done all that you have asked of me. I
have given up everything I ever have been for you. Please, my manhood is all I
have left. Please don’t castrate me.”
“It will be alright. You really did not know but there has only been one man
here that ever left this room with his balls, and he was asked to be here to
witness a castration of the husband of the women he was fucking. I could not
let a sissy enter this room and not leave with his balls it just isn’t done.
No they have to come off tonight.”
“But you can’t do this. I need them. I need to be able to cum!”
“Silly boy, you do not need your balls. No man “needs” balls. Women don’t have
them and we live just fine. You will be fine with out yours. Look t what they
do to you. Here we are talking about your castration and you have another hard
on. You just shot your load and already this talk of loosing them has them
pumping testosterone into your system. Men are pathetic. The only reason I
even go out with the men that I do is to get fucked. Women do love to get
fucked, but we need a “real man”. You knew it even from the very first time we
made love during our honeymoon. Your tiny little prick could not even enter my
pussy with out cumming all over it. You could not satisfy me with that, she
pointed to his little hard on. What do I need it for?”
“Shirley, you don’t need it, I do.”
“Oh it has become Shirley now? You forget your self sissy.”
“I haven’t forgotten my self. We have played these sexual games all our
marriage so that you could fulfill your self, but what you’re talking about is
way over the line. I don’t want to play any more. Please let me go, I will
leave and never come back. You can keep everything. I just want to leave with
my health and I will start over somewhere else. I will give you a divorce and
any thing you want.”
“I don’t want a divorce, I love you. I love the sissy that you have become. I
love everything about you, just the way you are. Well almost she said with a
smile.”
While they were talking bout what was about to happen, Sara and Julie had been
going about their usual preparations. Sara came in between Donna’s legs and
started to lather up his balls.
“Stop that, Sara. I am not going to be castrated.”
“Donna, haven’t you been listening to your Mistress? Do you really think you
are going to be the first sissy to be left out of here with his precious
balls? Hennery did not, and Alex did not. Yes they are castrated. You know
them and interact with them all the time. You could not tell that they are
eunuchs, but they are.” Sara started to shave him.
Julie came over to him and said, “Donna, do you think that all those men you
saw that came in here with us and exited with such a look of disappointment
left here with their balls?”
Donna was thrashing in his restraints now. He was struggling more than he ever
had since the very first time Shirley put him in panties. He had suffered all
the indignities that she had forced upon him, but this was different. She
wanted to geld him! Castration. No not me. I’m getting out of here. At least
that was what he thought but He really could not do anything to get loose.
“Donna,” said Shirley. I think it’s about time you settled down. You are going
to loose your balls. Dr. Johnson is going to castrate you. You are going to
become even more docile to me. No more hard ons. No more bothering me to let
you out of your chastity belt, after tonight you will not need it any more. In
fact, if you’re a really good girl, I will have Dr. Johnson give you a pussy.
Would not you like that. You would have a pussy to fuck men with. You won’t be
just a cocksucking sissy, but a real girl who fucks too.’
“No!”
Just them Dr. Johnson came over to the chair. She had a needle in her hand.
“Donna, this will help. This will calm you down. I have taken the balls of
over 30 men right here in this chair. I have never had a complaint of pain,
and actually once a eunuch gets used to not having their balls they become
really happy with them selves.”
She gave him the injection. He started to feel the comforting medicine in
going throughout his body. Calmness filled him.
“You did not think we were here to hurt you, did you dear?” Asked Dr. Johnson.
“I am so scared. I don’t know what to think. I don’t want to be castrated. I
don’t want to be a girl. Please don’t do this to me. Please!”
“There now, do not be so upset. I have done this to many men. Every one of
them begged to keep their balls. They all thought it was the end of the world.
It isn’t.
It is the end of your old way of life though. You will loose that poison
called testosterone. All through out history men have ruled the world through
their balls. Wars, rape, and keeping women from their rightful place all has
to do with men’s balls. I’m just doing my part to start things on their way to
a better world.
I think you should know that your new life would be a good one. It will take
about a month for it all to leave your body. In that time you will come to
realize that your balls are really not something to be missed. You will stop
having sexual thoughts, and you really won’t miss them. You are really
fortunate that you wife is willing to remake you into a woman. I can give you
a really nice pussy. It will be useful too. You will come to learn how nice it
can be to get fucked. You are a sissy with a little prick after tonight you
are on your way to become a productive member of the better sex.”
Sara had finished the shaving now. He was fully exposed. He knew that there
was nothing he could do about what was about to happen. He started to cry. He
was shaking in his bounds. He was as hard as he ever was. His tiny prick was
at attention. All glorious 3 inches, and he was proud to have that. His makeup
was starting to run.
Standing in the back and watching everything Diane was doubtful that she
wanted this to happen to Bobbie. Somehow this was more that the torment she
and Ellen gave to him. This was torture.
Julie wheeled the cart next to the operation chare. “I think we are ready to
start.”
Shirley put on a pair of latex gloves.
“Honey, I will be right here with you. I will be here to comfort you during
this castration. You are going to make me very happy. The idea of having you
as a eunuch is getting my pussy wet. You know how much you love to please me;
this is something I have been waiting for all this year. Every time I came
here to help others being castrated I pictured you strapped here just like you
are right now. I can’t wait till I see your balls in a jar.”
Sara started to give him some injections right into his balls and all around
the sack.
“It won’t be long now. Do you feel it getting numb?”
“I can’t feel much down there at all. Don’t do this to me, Shirley. I have
been all that you have asked. I have done things that made me sick, but I did
them for you. Please I am begging you, do not do this to me.’
“Its ok baby, you can cry, beg, and plead, but you are going to have your
balls cut off and it is going to happen right now.”
She started to crank up the chair so he could really watch what was going on
down there. Dr. Johnson was sitting on a stool in between his legs.
“Here we go.” Dr. Johnson took a scalpel and made a cut all along his sack.
She removed it exposing his fragile manhood. “See they are really only very
small part of your body. They are just your balls.”
Shirley held his head in her arms.
Julie took his tiny cock in her latex gloved hand and started to rub it.
“By masturbating during your castration and having you see it will help you to
accept the fact that you are castrated.”
Donna was fully involved in his castration now. His prick was betraying him.
It felt so good. He felt that he could cum one more time. Dr. Johnson was
tying off the cords to his balls. Each was becoming ready for the final cut.
When all was ready Dr. Johnson handed the scalpel to Shirley.
“Shirley, he is ready when you are.’
Shirley replaced the doctor in between his legs. Sara was holding his head now
stroking it. Julie was stroking his other head.
“Now, Donna, cum for us. I want you to get out that one last one. As you are
spurting I am going to be the one. For the rest of your life you will know
deep inside of you that your wife cut off your balls. I don’t do this out of
malaise but out of love. I love you dear, and I want you to become more of a
slave to my love for you. Cum now sweetie.
There was nothing he could do to hold back, he felt his cock begin to cum. He
felt it deep in side of him. He also realized that this would never happen
again.
As the last spurt came out, Shirley cut off his left ball and placed it in a
jar.
“Don.” She had not called him by his male name for many years now, not since
from a time way before his sissy marriage to her. “Don, I am your Wife, Your
Mistress, Your Dominatrix, and now your Castratrix. You will now be mine
forever. No woman would want a eunuch that she did not do herself. I now give
you the feminine name of Donna and it will be real. With this cut you will no
longer be a male but a eunuch. If it pleases me I will make you into a real
girl.”
She cut off his last ball.
He wept. His tears were the self-pity that came with knowing that he was now
less than he had been before. He knew deep inside that he was not the same. He
would never again get hard, he would never again orgasm. He knew that he was a
castrated eunuch.
As Dr. Johnson finished cleaning and preparing him for his recovery Diane and
Ellen started to walk to the door. Julie came over to them.
“Julie it has been an interesting experience, but this is not for us. I want
to keep Bobbie as he is for now. If at sometime in the future he wishes to
become a woman, I will contact you, but not now and not this way.”
They got Bobbie out of his bounds and left for their home and the fun they
knew they would have. She thought maybe someday, but for now it was much more
fun having a fully intact sissy to frustrate and torment for the pleasure of
all involved.
* * * |
DR. JANET GRANGER CASTRATED ME! | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES | I'm Earl, and I will try to describe what it was like for me while Dr. Janet Granger was performing the castration surgery on me. | ` I'm Earl and I'm Dr. Janet Granger's eunuch slave and pet. Janet is a
veterinarian and she castrated me. It won't be easy for me to re-live the
experience, but I will try to explain what it was like for me.
I have a riding stable with a number of horses and some colts, and some people
have horses they board here. I had a young stallion that needed to be gelded.
It was soon after Dr. Janet Granger came to town
I wanted a woman veterinarian, especially for castrating. I have always had a
big thing about women doing castrations. When Dr. Granger came that first
time, she was wearing a long sleeve shirt and she rolled her sleeves up above
her elbows to do the gelding. I have also always had a big thing about women
with their sleeves rolled up above their elbows. So as soon as she was done
the gelding I asked her to hire on as my regular vet and she agreed.
Dr. Janet Granger is a very very attractive woman. She is very tall and
statuesque, with a figure like a fitness girl. She is in her early forties but
she looks a good ten or fifteen years younger. She also has a very business
like aire about her which is enhanced by the way she wears her hair in a short
but very feminine cut.
I was attracted to her looks right away when I first saw her, then add that
she is a veterinarian and she does do castrations, and she wears long sleeve
shirts with her sleeves rolled up above her elbows.
Needless to say, after she left that day I went inside and masturbated
imagining Janet castrating me. I did the same thing each time after she came
to geld a stallion.
I did ask her once if she would castrate me, but she didn't then. Soon after
that there was a stallion that belonged to a client who boarded him here, and
she wanted Janet to geld him for her. That time the urge began as soon as
Janet arrived, so I went in the shed where I could see right into the gelding
area, and I wanked off several times as I watched Janet roll up her sleeves
and geld the stallion with her teenage assistant Fiona helping.
They discovered what I had done and a few days later they confronted me with
it. I admitted it was true. Then Janet, who is much taller and stronger than I
am, she took hold of me and told me she would have to castrate me and that it
was for my own good. I think I was shocked, I mean really shocked! I don't
remember the women taking me in the house all I know was all of a sudden I was
on my back on a table with my pants off, and Janet and Fiona were tieing me
down. I was terrified. Yes I had castration fantasies and wanted Janet to do
it, but this wasn't a fantasy it really was real and I was totally helpless.
I watched Janet as she rolled up her sleeves, I was mesmerized watching her
rolling her sleeves up above her elbows, knowing she was about to castrate me
and that my manhood was about to be destroyed at the hands of this beautiful
woman who was bareing her arms to well above her elbows by rolling up her
sleeves! That and the fact that I had a fetish about women with their sleeves
rolled up!
I felt tingles through my genitals as Janet took my male organs in her hands
and gently examined me down there, then she finished prepping me for surgery.
I must have felt sharp pains in my balls as she injected the anesthesia into
them, but I don't really remember. Maybe she also gave me something to calm
me, I don't know. I know I didn't feel any physical pain at all while Janet
was operating on me, but I did feel her working on me and I did feel how
gentle she was.
I don't really remember the operation itself very much. I do remember I was
totally terrified the whole time. After all I was being castrated, my
testicles were being surgically removed and my manhood was being totally
destroyed.
But I also felt the most intense sexual arousal and stimulation and sexual
feelings and sexual exstacy I have ever known. It was the last sexual feelings
I ever had, I have felt nothing sexual since she cut my nuts out, and I'm a
lot better off for it.
Mostly it was like I was in some kind of fog or some kind of strange dream,
like a cross between a dream and a nightmare, and it just seemed to go on and
on and on for ever.
I remember just laying there looking up at Janet, looking up at this beautiful
dominant and omnipotent woman, hearing her soft brittish accent, though I
don't remember what she said, but I just remember laying there looking up at
this beautiful woman veterinarian with her arms bare to half way between her
elbows and her shoulders with her sleever rolled up well above her elbows,
worshipping her as GODDESS as she cut my nuts out!
I remember her gently cradling my exposed testicles in her right hand and my
penis in her left hand as she masturbated me, and I came and came and my
manhood dribble away at her hands, and I remember watching her perform the
castration surgery on me, and I felt all kinds physical sexual and all kinds
or emotional feelings I can't even begin to describe.
Mostly I just remember feeling her working on me, and I remember mostly just
laying there helpless looking up at her, hearing her soft Brittish accent and
just looking up at this beautiful dominant omnipotent woman veterinarian with
her sleeves rolled up well above her elbows, worshipping her as GODDESS as she
performed castration surgery on me and my manhood was destroyed at her hands!
I have some memory of waking up after it was over, and Janet took wonderful
care of me and I recovered quickly.
I'm doing great now. Janet is my wife and partner in everything and I couldn't
want a more perfect wife, best friend, and soul mate. We like to snuggle in
the evenings and Janet calls me her snuggly little eunuch. We truly love each
other and I will worship Janet forever as Goddess and I will spend my entire
existance serving her and worshipping her as Goddess, and that's how it should
be. I guess you could say I've already found Heaven with my Goddess, and we'll
spend eternity here together.
* * *
` |
Comment mon paquet fut vendu | GAY, NULLIFICATION | Le dimanche 4 avril, j'ai placé une courte annonce, sur un forum de tonalité
sado-maso, intitulée : " Mec, 27 ans, vends couilles et bite, parce qu'il ne
mérite pas d'en ętre propriétaire ".
Rapidement, c'est ŕ dire en l'espace de quelques heures, je reçus plusieurs
mails salaces ŕ souhait, me proposant toutes sortes d'ébats, dans le ton
habituel du forum. Je reçus également un mail plus sobre, presque glaçant tant
il me parut vrai, signé d'un certain " maître Eric ". Il me demandait
simplement quel était le sérieux de mon annonce, si je mettais vraiment mon
paquet en vente, ou si je m'étais juste offert une excitation gratuite, que ma
main gauche avait déjŕ consommée depuis longtemps.
J'ai hésité avant de répondre, je l'avoue maintenant. Mais je lui ai répondu,
dans la journée, m'expliquant plus longuement sur ma décision. Je lui ai dit
que j'étais en apparence semblable aux autres mecs, au sens oů j'avais un
petit paquet de peau qui pendouillait entre les jambes. Mais que l'apparence
s'arrętait lŕ, que mon paquet était plutôt petit, pas trčs beau, et surtout
qu'il était foncičrement inutile. Sexuellement, j'étais juste bon ŕ sucer des
verges, en tout cas définitivement incapable de faire usage de mon petit
robinet dans ce domaine. En un mot, que j'avais peut-ętre une bite et deux
couilles, mais que je n'avais rien pour moi qui justifie que je les mérite, ni
d'ailleurs que je mérite d'ętre appelé " mec ". Je rajoutai que je n'avais
aucune envie d'ętre ou de devenir une femme, que je n'étais pas un
transsexuel. Je concluais vaillamment par une tirade qui affirmait que les
testicules et la verge sont des objets trop nobles pour n'ętre pas possédés
par un vrai mâle, que je n'avais donc aucun droit ŕ en posséder, et que je me
réaliserais si un vrai mec devenait propriétaire de celles que je portais.
Il m'a répondit trčs rapidement, quelques minutes aprčs mon envoi. Il
m'expliqua qu'il avait créé un site sur lequel on pouvait suivre le " dressage
" de ses esclaves, et qui contenait également un espace forum. Il pouvait se
charger de la vente, si j'étais pręt ŕ lui assurer que je n'allais pas me
rétracter une fois celle-ci conclue. Si mon engagement était sérieux, il
pourrait donc contacter les acheteurs potentiels, organiser la mise aux
enchčres et encadrer la transaction. La lecture de son mail me fit frissonner,
tant tout semblait si réel. " acheteurs ", " mise aux enchčres ", "
transaction " : cela ressemblait tellement ŕ une vente " normale " ! je fis un
tour sur son site. Mes impressions furent confirmées. L'ensemble était d'un
ton résolument professionnel. La description des " dressages " était donnée de
maničre directe et objective, sans excčs trahissant une libido mal contenue.
Simplement, sur les photos, c'était bien des corps nus qui pliaient dans les
chaînes, le cuir et les cordes.
La fin du mail était encore plus directe. Pour rendre plus explicite sa
question sur le sérieux de mon engagement, il me demandait si je comprenais
que ce que je faisais pouvait se conclure (" trčs simplement et trčs
rapidement " rajoutait-il) par mon émasculation.
Emasculation. J'avoue encore que j'ai réfléchi. Tout pouvait effectivement se
passer trčs rapidement : la vente a lieu, mon acheteur réclame son bien, on
m'opčre, le nouveau propriétaire repart avec, dans un petit bocal, ce qui
était mes couilles et ma bite, me paye (combien ? 20 euros ? 30 euros ?), et
moi je termine ma vie émasculé .. Mais enfin, cela je l'ai déjŕ envisagé !
Combien de fois ai-je placé un couteau ou des ciseaux ŕ la base de mes
couilles ? Combien de fois me suis-je exclamé " je suis un émasculé, je ne
mérite que l'émasculation " ? Alors je répondis simplement (j'étais animé de
la męme énergie sacrée que quand j'avais envoyé mon mail, le matin męme) : "
Je reconnais ne pas mériter ma bite et mes couilles. Ce serait absurde et
malhonnęte si je ne reconnaissais pas que je mérite donc d'ętre émasculé. "
Je n'eu pas de réponse pendant plusieurs jours. J'ai cru que mon interlocuteur
n'avait pas jugé sérieux ma profession de foi. Finalement, une semaine plus
tard -le week-end suivant- je recevais un mail, intitulé " toujours partant ?
". Le titre me paraissait assez ironique. Maître Eric m'informait que, si je
ne retirais pas mon offre, la transaction pourrait ętre organisée rapidement.
Il avait cependant besoin de preuves tangibles, pour convaincre les acheteurs
éventuels de participer. Il me demandait donc plusieurs choses -une photo de
moi nu, un sachet contenant tous mes poils pubiens, un engagement manuscrit et
signé que je mettais mon sexe en vente et que je reconnaissais par avance la
pleine propriété ŕ celui qui gagnerait les enchčres.
Je lui renvoyais immédiatement l'ensemble, la photo par mail et le sachet et
l'engagement par la poste. Je rajoutais comme condition dans ce dernier que
seul un mec pouvait acheter mon paquet. Et comme je voulais cette fois ne
laisser plus aucun doute sur mon sérieux, je rajoutai quelques preuves
supplémentaires et définitives de mon engagement.
D'abord, je traçai un rectangle autour de mon sexe ŕ l'aide d'un marqueur noir
et inscrivais nettement les mots " A VENDRE ". Je rajoutai des pointillés ŕ la
base de mes couilles et de ma bite, qu'enjambait un symbole de ciseau. Je fis
plusieurs photo, que j'envoyais immédiatement ŕ mon maître-agent. Mais surtout
je lui envoyais une vidée complčte, dans laquelle je fermais un cadenas sur la
base de mes testicules. Dans la męme vidéo, pour preuve qu'il n'y avait pas de
montage, je montrais le cadenas dans son plastique d'achat (preuve que je
n'avais pas de double des clefs), la base de mes couilles solidement serrée
entre les dents de fer, et les clefs de mon verrou placées dans une enveloppe,
que je scellais en apposant plusieurs signatures sur le pli.
Je n'eu pas de réponse immédiate, mais deux jours plus tard, je recevais un
mail de maître Eric au ton particuličrement satisfait. " Je suis convaincu,
maintenant je sais que tes couilles et ta bite seront vendues. As-tu pensé ŕ
un prix de départ ? ".
Non, je n'avais pas pensé. J'allais répondre de lancer les enchčres ŕ zéros,
mais réfléchis que cela ne devait pas faire sérieux. Je répondis donc : " Il
me semble logique de les mettre au prix de leur valeur lorsqu'elles sont
posées sur moi. J'ai donc réfléchis ŕ la valeur de mon petit paquet, et je
pense que, placé entre mes jambes, il ne vaut pas plus de 5 euros ".
Quelques minutes plus tard, une nouvelle annonce apparaissait sur le forum de
maître Eric. On y voyait ma photo (le gros plan de mon sexe, estampillé de son
" A VENDRE " et des traits de pré-découpage). En dessous, ce texte laconique :
A vendre : paire de couille et bite, porté par un mec qui ne les mérite pas.
Pour propriété pleine et entičre.
Garantie de l'effectivité de la vente assurée
Mise ŕ prix : 5 euros, ŕ partir d'aujourd'hui, mardi 15 avril.
Clôture des ventes le dimanche 20 avril.
Cinq jours pour la vente ? Cela me paraissait court. Les acheteurs ne devaient
pas ętre si rapides, ni si nombreux.
En fait, j'eu rapidement la réponse. Le soir męme, 12 personnes avaient
répondu et sur le marché, la valeur de mes couilles et de ma bite était monté
ŕ 27 euros.
*
Pas la peine d'épiloguer trop longtemps. Le 20 avril, ŕ 20 heures. Mon sexe
était vendu ŕ un certain Marc B., pour la somme de 54 euros.
Le lendemain soir, j'étais chez maître Eric et je rencontrai le nouveau
propriétaire de mes testicules. Nous avons signé un engagement, par lequel je
lui reconnaissais la pleine et entičre propriété sur les testicules et la
verge qui jusqu'ŕ ce jour, 21 avril, étaient attachées entre mes jambes.
Ensuite je me suis déshabillé (nous étions dans la salle de dressage de maître
Eric, un endroit solennel). Marc et maître Eric constatčrent avec satisfaction
que j'avais bien toujours le cadenas solidement accroché ŕ la base de mes
couilles. Maître Eric tendit ŕ Marc le trousseau de clef. " Félicitation pour
votre achat ! C'est votre bien maintenant ! ". Moi, je ne disais plus rien.
Marc s'avança vers moi, introduisit la clef dans le barillet, et la fit
tourner. Clic, le cadenas s'ouvrit. Cela faisait deux semaines qu'il
m'enserrait les testicules. Marc caressa ma paire, pardon, sa (il va falloir
que je m'y habitue) nouvelle paire de couille d'un air songeur.
" Un bon achat, lui dit Eric.
\- Oui, répondit Marc. Pas cher.
\- Tu vas les faire couper. Il y a tout le matériel ici, si tu veux. "
Lŕ, je frissonnais. Tout était extręmement vrai maintenant, ne serait-ce que
parce que je sentais cette main étrangčre jouer avec la paire de couille, elle
aussi étrangčre, qui pendait entre mes cuisses. Donc, maintenant
l'émasculation n'était plus juste un fantasme ŕ faire bander. Je repensais ŕ
la rapidité avec laquelle tout pourrait ętre fini.
" Pas tout de suite. Aprčs, sans doute. En fait, j'ai déjŕ préparé le bocal,
parce que c'étais quand męme le but. Mais pour l'instant je veux voir ce que
ça fait que d'avoir un paquet avec un castré pour le porter au bout !
\- Tu as raison. Tu veux une chaîne pour l'emmener ?
\- Non je vais juste remettre le cadenas. Aprčs tout, je ne suis propriétaire
que de la bite et des couilles, dit-il en me regardant.
\- Il aurait quand męme du mal ŕ ne pas suivre, s'il ne veut pas ętre accusé
de te voler ton bien.
\- Il m'a vendu son paquet. Ce n'est quand męme pas pour me le voler juste
aprčs.
\- C'est vrai. Il faut quand męme détester ses couilles et sa bite pour les
vendre, hein ?
\- Surtout pour 54 euros ! "
Voilŕ oů j'en suis maintenant. Je ne suis pas émasculé, mais je sais que cela
finira par m'arriver. J'ai pu me rendre compte que c'est sérieux. Souvent,
Marc me place un couteau ou des ciseaux ŕ la base des testicules. Cela ne
change pas grand chose, en fait, sauf que ce n'est plus moi qui tient le
couteau, et que rien ne viendra le retenir s'il doit finir sa course. Marc m'a
d'ailleurs déjŕ montré le bocal oů le paquet sera placé. Il y a une étiquette
avec mon nom et deux mentions : " Acheté le 15 avril. Mis en stockage le : … "
Et trois points pręts ŕ remplir.
* * * |
|
SS RESEARCH UNIT | **[eunuch.org/_private/stories_ahdr.htm]**
## SS RESEARCH UNIT
**Date:** 18 Nov 1997
**Time:** 18:25:16
**Remote Name:** 204.30.69.115
**Remote User:**
### description
Those Nazis . . . they did for torture what some want for pleasure!
(**warning: violent!)
### Comments
SS RESEARCH UNIT
In my retirement, I often think back to my past life. Indeed, I can still read
about it occasionally in the newspapers and magazines, in articles devoted to
the medical experiments of the SS during the Second World War. Sometimes I
even find references to myself, under that name which have not used since
1945.
The unit, which I headed, was in charge of research into the sterilisation of
Slavic subject peoples. We were based in an old Catholic boy's school outside
Cracow. Our subjects were exclusively Polish males between the ages of 16 and
25. I will say here at the outset that we never had any Jewish subjects. Our
interests were exclusively with pure-blooded Poles. I would also say that, in
contrast to the activities of other similar units in the Eastern Occupied
Territories, my own unit was organised on strictly scientific grounds. As for
our experimental subjects, they were all returned into the community when
their use for us was over.
Our usual intake was four subjects per month. Given that the usual length of
stay at our facility was six months, we seldom had any more that thirty
subjects resident in the complex at any one time. Each intake had no contact
with any other and resided in separate wings of the former school. This basic
procedure was rigorously enforced to avoid any contamination of experimental
results. Our subjects had been screened and selected by doctors attached to
the various police agencies through the local area. There was strict criteria;
none of the subjects should have committed any serious crime, they all had to
be in perfect health and exhibit the best features of their race. Frequently
they had simply committed some minor misdemeanor against our occupying forces
such as the breaking of curfew or were not carrying identity papers.
When they arrived at the facility, they were minutely physical examined by me.
Due to the efficiency of the selection procedures, we seldom had to reject a
subject.
They were stripped down and measured by the unit nurse, Gretl Gauer with one
of the orderlies. All possible measurements were taken from height and weight
to cranium-size and finger-digit spread. Obviously we paid careful attention
to the genitals. The subjects were ordered to the examination table, their
ankles placed in stirrups similar to those used in gynecological examinations
of women. First Gretl measured their flaccid penis size, then I began my own
examination of the area, pulling back the soft foreskin to expose the glans,
and carefully checking the scotum and the testes. Then Gretl would manually
stimulate the subjects to erection and when they had reached full-length
another measurement was taken. They subjects were photographed in both states
for future comparisons.
It was then necessary to obtain the first semen sample. It was then they were
introduced to the frame, a simple structure of welded iron pipes, to which
they would become fully familiar over the months of their stay with the unit.
The frame held the four subjects of each intake as it was found to more
efficient if they were all done together. The guards would bend each of the
naked subjects over the bars, securing their legs to the wide apart shackles
and their hands to the cuffs on the wall. Thus they were in the optimum
position for the procedure.
Gretl would manipulate the first's subject's penis until it became erect.
Frequently, this was the only penile manipulation required as the other
subjects were stimulated both by the sight of her actions and the prospect
that it would soon be done to them. Then she would lubricate the specially
shaped instrument and insert it slowly into the anus of the subject. This
smooth cylinder was in fact a simple electrode attached to a battery. When
Gretl judged the moment right, she would position a test-tube over the head of
the subject's penis, switch on the current briefly and the mild electric shock
directly into the rectum and the prostate glands would compel the subject to
immediately ejaculate. Thus we had our first sample of the many that would be
collected.
The next day was the subjects first experience of some of the other pleasures
that the unit offered. The nude subject was taken into a room and left their
with one of the four Polish prostitutes who had been offered a position with
us instead of imprisonment. The whole incident was witnessed by my staff and
myself from behind a one-way mirror. We measured the length of time until full
erectile arousal occurred, the time between the beginning and initial
penetration of the subject's penis into the available vagina, the number of
hip thrusts of the subject and the length of time it took to achieve orgasm.
Thus we could assess the precise details of the subject's sexual desire and
capability.
This was the invariable routine of the subjects over that first month. A semen
sample was taken by Helga every second day so that we could graph the sperm
count and the motility factor. Every other day they were permitted intercourse
with the available girl and soon each subject possessed a dossier detailing
the exact measurements and factors involved in their sexual behavior.
I remember some subjects more than others. In particular I remember Darron J.
who was in one of the last intakes before the unit disbanded, its work
completed. Darron was 18 years old, the son of a coal-miner. He had been
arrested for insolent behavior towards the occupying forces and failure to
carry an identity card. He was one of our healthiest specimens. He was blonde-
haired and good-looking with narrow eyes and a full mouth. His pale white-
skinned body was in perfect proportion and the best that the Polish blood-
strain has to offer. His chest was still hairless. His nipples were wide and
easily erected. His brown pubic hair was confined to a closely defined area
above his penis which measured four inches in flaccid length and 8 and a half
inches when erect. Like all our subjects he was uncircumcised. His buttocks
were round and hard, and his anus was nearly hairless.
He was confident and cocky even on his first admission to the facility. I
watched with interest his first faltering when Gretl inserted the probe into
his anus for the first time. It was often at that point that many of our
subject's became cowed. Darron squeezed himself against that invasion but
Gretl was nothing if not experienced in the matter and the probe was soon
inserted to its full length. I watched him convulse as the current hit him
with some satisfaction. Experience had taught me that one could almost gauge
the amount of the ejaculated semen by the number and force of the subject's
squeezing spasms. I was most impressed with the amount of semen this single
Polish boy could deliver, day after day.
I was thus interested to observe him in his first encounter with one of our
girls. He was quick to arouse there, his penis erecting itself in a matter of
some fifty seconds. The frequency and depth of his thrusts was also unmatched
by any of our previous subjects and that first time he even brought the girl
to an unwilling orgasm. We were about to terminate the session after his final
orgasm but no sooner had he withdrawn his penis than he asked the girl if she
wanted it again. Normally such a break in our process would not have been
tolerated but I signaled my staff to continue their observations until some
five minutes later he came to another orgasm.
Darron grew to hate the frame. Some of our subjects submitted to it with
pleasure, but it was necessary to bring Darron forcibly to it. Gretl reported
that each time she inserted the probe it was as if it was the very first time,
such as this boy fought against that invasion of his own flesh. Each day,
however, he still delivered his usual large ejaculate into the test-tube Gretl
held over the glans of his penis.
After exactly thirty days, each of our subjects were gelded.
In spite of my professionalism, I will admit to the fact that I gained more
pleasure out of gelding some of our subjects than others and that I was, for
the first time in my career, actually looking forward to conducting this
operation on Darron.
The subjects were brought to the frame room individually on that day, a
process that differed sufficiently from normal to disturb some of them. Once
standing naked in the tiled room, I would conduct a quick medical examination
of them to ensure that they were in their best possible health. Darron, as I
have said, was a superb specimen. I fingered and weighed his testes for that
last time with something approaching anticipation.
Then I had the guard tie him in the accustomed position, though this time the
leg shackles were extended to their widest position to part the legs to the
fullest possible extent. I could see that this was done by judging the
tightness of the thigh and lower leg muscles. For the first time, the subject
also experienced the simple though effective gag.
In this position Darron presented his parted buttocks, his rosy anus and his
smooth thighs to my gaze. I was however more interested in the hang of his
scrotum. It was summer then, and in that unventilated room his heavy testes
hung loosely there.
It is an extremely effective position for the operation. I had found this fact
out from experience, and I infinitely preferred this position to the subject
being strapped to the operating table on his back with his parted legs locked
to the stirrups.
Somehow I felt he knew what was about to happen, for the moment I asked Gretl
to prepare the equipment, he attempted to struggle even though his bonds
permitted no movement. Simultaneously I noted the beginnings of an erection
between his legs.
The operation was conducted without anesthetic. In the hands of a competent
practitioner I still feel that no anesthetic is necessary, the pain being
short-lived and more emotional than physical. First I grasped the scrotum and
testes and tied them around with a simple rubber-band, high up where they
joined the body.
As soon as I did this, Darron's suspicion was confirmed. He fought again and I
saw him turn his head and plead with his brown eyes for me to stop in my
actions. I did not. Gretl leaned forward and stroked his penis to full
erection. The photographer recorded every aspect of the operation as I had
specially requested in this particular case.
The boy's balls were heavy and sweaty in my left hand and I continue to
manipulate them, so they were even looser in their scrotal sac. Then I picked
up the surgical knife I had designed myself. It was stainless steel, in a hard
curve, shaped to fit closely around the compressed area of the scrotal sac
just below the band. As I put it in place I noticed Darron's anus constrict
tightly as he still continued to struggle against the inevitability of his
fate.
I will admit I lingered there a moment, so to experience better my
anticipation of the act I was about to perform. I will also admit that I
performed it slowly as compared to my normal efficient dispatch. I could also
see from the look on Gretl's face, as she held that test-tube close against
the glans of Darron's penis to catch the last spurt of his manhood, that she
was also appreciating this less hasty process.
Finally, I could wait no longer. I pulled hard on his scrotum with his testes
firmly felt in the palm of my hand, then slowly I began to slice through that
skin and spermatic cords. As I did so I could feel his body poise itself on
the brink of his final orgasm and ejaculation as a whole man, and I watched
with satisfaction those spasms, the opening and tightening of his anus, and
heard his gagged cries against the act I was performing.
I placed his testes in a speciman bowl for further examination.
Darron's head was bowed between his outstretched arms. I patted him on the
shoulder and told him he had done well. His final specimen of semen, when
Gretl showed me, was the largest we had ever collected off him.
Ten days later he was strapped again to the rack for his first post-operation
sample. This time he submitted to the operation in sullen defeat. I was
surprised how rapidly the number of semen in his sperm had diminished. The
next day, when for the first time since his operation he was put with one of
the girls, I noted with satisfaction how successful my operation had been in
this case. Darron failed to achieve any semblance of erection and failed to do
so it the time he remained in the facility before his release.
I still have those photographs that were taken that day. They are old and
faded now, but some nights when I wish to experience those long ago emotions,
I bring them out from my hiding place, and even at my age I can still produce
a healthy erection and a fulsome ejaculate as I masturbate with those vivid
images propped around me.
**[eunuch.org/_private/stories_aftr.htm]** |
||
Urination Special Collection — Castration Special Concoction | TESTICLES, PISSING ALL OVER THE FUCKING PLACE | Mixology builds inspiration from urology, in a weirdly-formatted and endearingly-demented way. | ` `
•
Stewart has Martha to thank. He still has his cock. Having said cock, Stewart
is in the habit of using said cock.
We all know _how_ , but have I said _where_ he uses it? You can probably
guess, but I'll lead you down the _House & Garden_ path.
Here's the recipe: Beer plus bladder plus buildings. Fosters is his favorite.
And Stewart never wastes any time getting wasted.
Ever notice how it seems the bladder can hold and release more liquid than the
body takes in? _"The best beer in the world is just pissed away." "You don't
buy beer, you just rent beer."_ Frat slogans tried and true.
Just what does the bladder release — a "waste" product, no! Piss is a product
not for the sewer, but a fine product for the connoisseur.
And Martha, she is the consummate connoisseur. Not only the world's most
authoritative gourmet of gonads, but also (but not as well known for this
accolade), __The_ Woman of Urine._
The fags just love her mags. (Her 'zines, not her wheels.)
In fact, all that get kinky in the kitchen love her mags, love her TV shows,
love when she has TV's on her TV shows. (If they can dress themselves so fine,
they sure as HTML can dress a damn-fine turkey.)
So, Stewart drinks all that Fosters. Then he prowls the grounds. That cock
with a piss-hard-on is like a damn geiger counter. Or like it has GPS, or more
like Gee-I-have-to-Piss. It points, Stewart follows.
We've all heard of rock gardens, Japanese gardens, cock gardens, Operation
Market Garden, and all those. But Martha's gardener, Monty, had a great
gardening inspiration one day. He came out of the closet, and from then on it
was clear that his signature garden must be a Water Closet Garden.
•
Stewart and Foster were only half-consumed with each other, so they could
still see. And the WC's in the garden were especially easy to spot — as they
all had a plethora of piss spots, because their seats were always down.
Of course, Stewart would have preferred a nice building, or Blarney Stone, or
other edifice of piss, but the garden would do just fine.
Is it really a surprise that Stewart never lifted the seats of the garden's
WC's? Guys wouldn't even lift the seats in the Garden of God Damn Eden, even
if Eve told them too. _Especially_ if Eve told them to.
Guys are sooo prick-dick-ta-ble.
Some women think men have such superior plumbing because they can piss
standing up and they can so easily piss on any damn building they want...
...But Martha's plumbing is even better.
Under those lilly-white WC's splattered with pale piss all over the porcelain,
is a network of collection pipes. They all lead to her wine cellar, I mean to
her _ur-wine_ cellar.
Stewart's piss is bottled. Monty's piss is bottled. All the piss of the TV's
is bottled. All the piss of the TV people is bottled.
And, after a good nor'easter with a gale-force downpour good enough to scrub
the soiled seats, Martha and her gal friends even contribute a little piss
through the special-garden special-WC's.
But the WC's are even more special than I have told you so far. First, I've
told you about how they collect "Number One." Second, some guys also attempt
to deposit "Number Two."
You've heard about corks for wine bottles. Well, Martha has corks for slime
balls who try to slide a shit into one of those piss-only WC's.
When a gal sits to pee on those rare clean occasions, all goes fine, all flows
fine. When a guy sits on the seat, his dangling testes intercept an electric
eye, and I mean you should see the mean things that happen next.
Knowing that a guy sits on a shitter for only one reason, the sensors trigger
a docking system that was originally made for Apollo-Soyuz. But in this case,
the sensors dock a cork, like quick-quick and like deep-deep, into the
asshole's asshole.
Not only no shit from that piece of shit, but the sensors also dock a
grappling chord around his sac of gonads, and in like no time they are gone,
gone, gone.
The crush and cut are automatic. The flush is automatic. Down the drain go the
balls. Just like that, they're in the vat.
Urine is already in. Now, your balls are in.
Martha just grins.
And sings — a marinade serenade.
• __
Classy Bitch thanks her
loving, lusting readers
for sending her over the edge.
More than 100,000 hits
on her stories
in just a few months.
She _loves_
to be hit-on
like that!
* * * |
What Goes Around Cums Around | GAY, STRAIGHT, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION | When the law allows public castration, you need to be careful who sees you | What Goes Around Cums Around
"What are they doing to the man now, Mommy?" "They're tying him to the cross,
just like I told you before. Remember?" I had carfully gone over the process
several times, trying to answer all the questions for my 10 year old son. Ever
since the emporer had decreed that anyone who sexually abused children would
be publicly castrated and his cock would also be cut off, I had been coming to
these public spectacles. At first I had been hesitant, not really sure if I
wanted to see a someone lose his manhood. Bur after the first time I found
that I didn't just enjoy the show, I loved it. It made me so horny that I
would live on the eroticism for days. My husband, on the other hand, couldn't
bring himself to watch because it was "too personal," so I kept attending as
often as I could. It was eight years ago now since the first one, and while
they we all pretty much alike, they still aroused me like nothing else ever
did. The first public castration had been thirteen years ago, and while I had
missed the first several years, still there had been dozens that I attended,
and one I had even helped in. The law of the emporer had been that the
condemned would be tied to an X shaped cross and stripped naked. At the
appointed hour, one of his victims (or a family member - I had not yet
determined how they selected the one to do it) was allowed/ordered to remove
the abusers penis and testicles. That person had exactly one hour to do the
job, and was permitted to do ANYTHING to the organs that he/she wanted. No
harm could be done to any other part of the body, but whatever a person could
think of that would inflict pain and humiliation to the convicted man was
allowed. If the victim died as a result of the treatment, that was OK. If he
survived his punishment, he was allowed to go free and make his living as best
he could. It was widely know that most became beggars and made a meager living
on the streets. It was also widely know that there were several who had
transformed themselves into sex objects for anyone who had the money to hire
them. Assholes and mouths became the openings where many people unloaded their
lust at a moment of extreme need. There were, of course, other abusers who
couldn't live life without sex organs and the humiliation that went with it,
and their bodies were often found floating in the nearest river. Given the
latitude of the law, it is a miracle that more didn't die from their
treatment, not that they would have been overly lamented, but there were a few
that had apparently made the transition back into society, mostly without
publicizing their unfortunate past. It was thought that the removal of a man's
sex would cure him of his desire for children, and so there were some who
quietly slipped back into another part of the city and began over. Along with
this was the idea that public castration would be a deterent to further sex
crimes against kids, but that had not yet been proven one way or the other.
But it had been decided that even the kids themselves should be educated about
the crime and its penallties, so the age of ten was decided as the age of
accountability, and any child 10 or older was permitted, if not encouraged, to
attend the carrying out of the sentence. Hence, the reason for the presence of
my ten year old son. I continued to explain over again the process, that only
one person could carry out the sentence (there was always a lot of verbal help
from other victims and families), and by the end of the hour every bit of the
man's cock and balls had to be removed. There were soldiers posted around the
arena where the execution was to take place to guarantee compliance with the
law and procedure. There were those who used great imagination in carrying out
the punishment. A whole arsenal of tools and sharp objects was made available
to the "cutters" as they became know, and even beyond that, animals, fire (one
cutter cooked the abuser's cock and balls over the fire before she cut them
off and ate them while he had to watch), and caustic chemicals were used at
one time or another. One final provision of the law was that if there was no
one who survived the victim, a lottery was done the day of the sentence of
those who attended. It was on one such occasion that I was selected to carry
out the sentence. But that is another story.
The abuser had been securely fastened to the cross and was now awaiting the
hour of his punishment, still a few minutes off. He had been caught completely
naked along with three of his neighborhood boys, ages 10 to 13 who were also
naked. His erect penis was completely filling the mouth of one of the boys,
his arms surrounding the other two boys, hands stroking their organs. An
investigation had discovered that this kind of thing had been going on for
months with several other boys in the area. The cutter today was going to be
the older sister (she looked to be about 15) of one of the boys. She was busy
getting last minute instructions from the victims' families as we waited for
the hour to come. While waiting I looked around at those who were here for the
show. And show it was. In the last few years, because of the nature of the
punishment, the carrying out of the sentence had become the opportunity for
some very public sex. It was the one place in the city where public nudity and
sexual pleasure could be had with no penalty. Even before the time began,
people were already beginning to get into the mood. There was a group of five
or six young men nearby who had already stripped naked and were feeling each
other's sex. It was still casual, but as they stroked each other, several of
their cocks were beginning to respond. Several lesbian couples were in various
stages of groping, some with hands full of tits, others with hands full of
pussy. As always there were many single people who chose to pleasure
themselves, and again as usual, they were in various stages of erection or
arousal. One man with a very large cock had his tunic lifted up to expose it
and had begun to jerk himself. A older woman had raised her skirts and was
even now inserting a wooden cock into her vagina. My attention was drawn to a
middle aged man and woman standing nearby. He had raised the hem of his tunic
and draped it over his already hard cock which he was massaging with long slow
strokes, meant to give pleasure for all afternoon if necessary. His partner
had one hand up under her dress, apparently fingering herself (it was
difficult to see from my angle), while her other hand cupped his balls and
gently squeezed them to add to his pleasure. I made a mental note to check on
them often in the next hour. A little past them I noticed three early teen
girls, staring at the man on the platform, pointing and giggling. First-
timers, I thought, but they had also attracted the attention of a group of
four or five older teenage boys who were edging closer to them as the minutes
ran down until the appointed hour. I have to admit that the fire between my
legs was rapidly building already. It was going to be one hot afternoon.
When I had finished surveying the scene, I glanced down at my son to see if he
had any more questions. What I found was my ten year old boy busily watching
the group of young men playing with each other's genitals while his cock was
making a tent out of his tunic. The thought occurred to me that perhaps his
sexuality was beginning to form even now. I knelt down beside him and
whispered that it was all right if he pulled it out and masturbated if he
wanted to. He grinned at me and immediately pulled out his enormous penis to
play with. My son was well endowed to put it politely. Even at ten years old
his cock was bigger than most grown men, and when it was hard it was huge. My
husband and I had always encouraged him to do whatever felt good to him. We
told him he would never have to put on clothes while he was in our house or
courtyard, an offer he readily accepted. We also taught him how to pleasure
himself in a number of different ways, and frequently watched as he jerked
off. His friends always enjoyed coming to our home so they could have the same
privileges, a fact well known to all their parents. There were many days that
we had an incredible show of young sexuality: masturbation, oral and anal sex,
fucking in every position imaginable, and my son was always the center of
attention since every other child wanted to take advantage of his magnificent
tool. I think it's fair to say that his penis had been in the hands, mouths,
asses, and pussies of every other child in our area, male and female alike. In
our society, sex was encouraged of all children until puberty when the danger
of pregnancy led to more careful hook-ups among young people. But this was his
first time in this setting, so he was understandably nervous until I talked
him into it. And as soon as he pulled it out he became the center of attention
again. There were wide eyed stares from a dozen women (and an equal number of
men) close by. No one would touch him here in public because that was illegal.
The man currently strapped to the cross on the platform was about to lose his
manhood for abusing the area children. No one would take that chance here.
Most people were simply waiting with hands on their crotches for the
beginning. I suddenly realized how aroused I was getting, and my hand slid
down between my legs to encourage the feeling.
It was at that moment that the gong sounded announcing the beginning of the
punishment. The charges against the man were read and were greeted loudly with
jeers, name calling, and swearing, and the cutter was introduced and was
cheered lustily. The hour glass was turned over and the punishment began. The
cutter took the man's ball sack in her hand and forced his testicles as far
into the sack as they would go. They stretched the skin tight and looked like
they might burst through the sack if given enough force. The cutter reached
for a small wooden club from the tool table, and for the next several minutes
proceeded to pound the exposed balls until they had swollen to the size of
chicken eggs. During that time a gag was placed over the abuser's mouth to cut
down on his screaming. He finally passed out from the pain. The law said that
when a victim passed out, cold water would be thrown on him to make sure he
was alert for his punishment. This was done, and the cutter continued her
work. She traded the club for the longest needle she could find, which she
showed to the abuser. She took his swollen balls in her hand again and shoved
the needle through both of them. How many times did she skewer his testicles?
A hundred times? Two hundred? First one, then other, then both, over and
over,until there was no area on his sack or either ball that had not been
pierced with the needle. The needle was placed on the table again, and it
seemed as if some kind of plan was coming to a close. She took one of his
swollen balls in each hand, paused for a few seconds and then squeezed her
hands into fists, crushing his nuts into a shapeless mass. He passed out in
agony. After a quick water treatment, she took his balls and squeezed them
like she was playing with clay, until his sack looked like one large formless
lump. Reaching for a large knife on the nearby table, she said something to
him. As he looked down to his manhood, still wrapped in her hand, she place
the knife under his shapeless sack, and with one quick slice, she castrated
him. As she carried what was left of his balls to her family and friends, the
place went crazy. My own lust was about to explode, but the show wasn't over
yet.
I took the short break to look around at my fellow spectators. The teen girls
had each been sandwiched between two guys with a cock up her ass and another
up her cunt. But for their part it seemed they were really concentrating on
the action on the stage. Several middle-aged men had merged into a small group
and were very busy stroking themselves as they shared a conversation. The
woman with the wooden cock up her snatch had just cum and her juices were
running down her legs, but she continued to pump her pussy waiting for the
rest of the punishment to continue. The group of young men had moved into
taking turns sucking each other off. One had just squirted his load and it was
running down the face of his partner. Everywhere I looked there were puddles
of cum and female fluids in the sand. My attention finally rested on the
couple near me just as a fountain exploded out of his penis. It seemed like a
huge load and it went everywhere. As his orgasm subsided, his partner
whispered something in his ear and he nodded. The hand she had used to massage
his balls closed around the sack full of nuts and she suddenly squeezed them
with all her strength. I could almost see them rupture in her grip, and her
man nearly collapsed from the agony of his crushed nuts. He stifled a scream,
and would have fallen if the woman had not held him up as he leaned heavily
against her. Then she quicly reached into the sash she was wearing around her
waist and pulled out a small knife. Working quickly, she forced what was left
of his balls into the bottom of his sack, just like we had all witnessed a few
minutes before on stage, and with one flick of the wrist she sliced open his
bag. His shapeless balls fell out and hung between his legs several inches
below his crotch. Another quick flick of the wrist and she cut the tissue
holding his hanging testicles, and they fell to the ground with a soft plop.
The woman took out a soft cloth and immediately held it against his wound
where his hand joined in stopping the flow of blood. She said something to him
again, and as he looked down to watch her, she placed her sandaled foot on the
severed organs and smashed them into paste. He smiled weakly as she turned her
attention back to his wound, but instead of helping stop the blood flow which
by now had almost stopped anyway, she took his half hard penis in her hand and
began the slow steady stroke that he had been doing before his castration. She
was still engaged in masturbating him when the show started again. I tore my
eyes away from them and refocused of the action on stage.
The cutter had returned to her work. The abuser for his part had not only lost
his balls, but also some of the pain that had come when his nuts had been
crushed. That was about to change. The girl had again picked up the needle,
and after making him look at her, she showed him the implement of torture. She
smiled at the look of horror on his face, and not taking her eyes off his, she
lifted his soft penis and without looking at it she shoved the needle through
the head. Surprisingly, his cock began to enlarge in spite of his terrible
pain, probably because as she delivered the pain, she stroked his shaft,
giving him the ultimate experience, jerking him off and getting him ready to
lose his manhood at the same time. The needle pierced the head dozens of
times, slowly, giving the maximum amount of torture for as long as she could.
After several minutes, she stopped the skewering, reached for two smaller
needles, and ran each of them through the head of his penis. Her fingers
wrapped around their shafts, using them as kind of a handle so she could
stretch out the organ as far as it would go. Then she took the knife again,
and I could hear a collective intake of breath. But she laid the knife as
close to his body as she could and simply cut a circle around the stretched
out shaft. She laid down the knife, wrapped her fingers around the swollen
organ and pulled the skin off, let it bunch up at the head. Picking up the
knife again, she sliced off the head of his cock, taking the loose skin with
it. Holding up the severed head by the empty skin, she went to her helpers and
gave them the prize, getting a small leather bag in return. It looked for all
the world like someone's castrated sack, and maybe it was. She took the bag
back to the much shorter but still half hard cock, and began to rub the
contents, a white crystaline substance, on the abuser's neatly pealed dick.
Whatever it was caused him to scream through the gag. Apparently someone had
asked what the stuff was, because in just a few seconds the word made its way
around the crowd: salt. She coated what had been his object of incredible
pleasure until it had become an object of incredible pain. Actually, the salt
was beginning the preservation process, and it suddently occurred to me that
maybe that was exactly what she was doing: preserving what was left of his
penis as a trophy.
Time was running out, everyone could feel the climax building. I was so
aroused that I didn't think I could contain myself any longer, so as she
picked up the knife for the last act, I could hear everyone catch their
breaths. She said something to the abuser as she took hold of his salted meat.
As he looked down she placed the blade at the base of his cock and slowly
sawed through his boner. There were moans throughout the crowd as his penis
came off in her hand, and the sound of people having orgasms all around me.
Cum shot into the air and juices gushed onto the ground as the final act of
the show reached it's climax. My own body ached for release, and it was at
this momment the unbelieveable happened. I glanced down at my son who was
obviously rapidly approaching orgasm. I couldn't help myself. I quickly bent
down and encircled his legs with my arms, lifting him up, with his enormous
cock right in my face. I heard a quick "Mommy!?" as his huge boner slid into
my mouth. His hands quickly grabbed my head and pulled my mouth all the way
onto his giant shaft. The head rammed into my throat, and I worked to control
the gag reflex as i took his whole organ. Just at that second he cried out
again "Mommy!!" as the first gush of his cum exploded down my throat. I had to
swallow, but the rest I held until he finished unloading his balls. Just as i
swallowed the rest of his semen, his penis was jerked out of my mouth, and
three soldiers surrounded me with drawn swords. I saw my son being carried
away by another soldier, and the enormity of what I had done slammed into me:
I had abused my own son in front of a hundred witnesses. As they took me away,
my mind went through what limited options were left to me. I would probably
never see my son again. My husband would take him to another city where they
would be free from the shame of what I had done. My own fate was less certain.
After all they couldn't take my cock and balls........again. See, it was
exactly eight years ago today that I lost them on this very platform with the
eyes of a hundred people watching. I had been caught in the act of sucking off
a neighbor's son. He was only ten at the time and I had thought that it was a
safe place, but someone had seen me take him there, and just at the moment
that he shot his load into my waiting mouth, the soldiers arrived. I was tried
and found guitly and sentenced all in one day, and one week later, eight years
ago, my own manhood was taken. On that very same day, my husband lost his too.
It was the mutual experience that drew us together, and as we healed from our
ordeal, we were drawn to each other and decided to set up our own "family." A
few years later we knew we needed a child to make things complete, so we began
to look for one among the street kids that ran around in groups completely
naked and offered themselves to anyone who might be interested. Street kids
were generally regarded in a different light than regular kids. They had fewer
rights, and while the people who used them were more secretive about having
sex with a street kid, still there was less stigma attached to sucking a
street kids penis than the highly illegal sexual practices with regular kids.
So my husband and I searched the city for the perfect child to adopt, that is
to say the child with the biggest cock we could find. As we looked, we heard
rumors of a child with a man sized penis and balls to match, and the instant
we finally found him, we knew him in an instant. We found him in a group of
his friends who were busily playing with his enormous tool. We took him home
with us, officially adoted him a few days later, and proceded to let him use
his wonderful cock making us happy. We played with his penis every chance we
got. We let him use our asses and we sucked him off whenever he wanted.
Neither my husband or I could ever cum, but it was our pleasure to help him
get off as often as he wanted. So you see, when I lost control and let him
empty his balls in my mouth just now I was only doing what I did everyday.
Classic case of bad timing, but anyway I have nothing else to lose.
* * * |
Pa Loses His Nuts | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES, MINOR | Ma nuts Pa. | "C'mon Pa, says Ma. Let's go out to the barn. I'm gonna take them nuts off
ya."
"Aw c'mon, Ma, says Pa, "You can't be serious."
"Now you know what I told you, Pa, if I caught you exposin' yerself to Little
Sis again."
"I'm sorry, Ma, you know me, I couldn't help myself, it just felt so darn
good."
"This is the last time, Pa. Now let's go."
Out in the barn Ma tells Pa to strip naked and then tells him to sit in a
wooden chair and spread his legs. She puts a rubber band tight and high up
around Pa's nut sack to help control the bleeding. Then she fits a wooden box
with a spring-loaded slicing blade inside around his nut sack. It pinches a
little going on and Pa says, "Ouch!"
Ma tells Pa he might as well have one last cum before she cuts his nuts off
and tells him to jerk off.
Ma watches Pa jerk off and then shoot a thick, gooey load. Then she bends down
and pushes a button on the box. Pa hollers in pain as his whole nut sack is
sliced neatly off. She wraps the stub of his nut sack with a bandage.
Ma says, "I'm sorry I had to do that to ya, Pa, but I had no choice."
"I understand," says Pa, as he gingerly pulls on his pants.
Ma pulls Pa's severed nut sack out of the slicing box and says "I'm gonna tan
this. Your nut sack will make a great change purse."
"Whatcha gonna do with my nuts, Ma?" says Pa.
"Oh, feed 'em to the hogs, I guess."
"How many men have you de-balled with that contraption?" says Pa.
"Fifteen, countin' you, Pa," says Ma.
"Who's next?" asks Pa.
"Little Johnny, probably," says Ma. "Little Sis told me the other day she
caught him playin' with himself out behind the barn."
"Do you remember buildin’ this nut-slicing box for me five years ago?" says
Ma.
"Yep," says Pa, "I do."
* * * |
Sodomy Doesn't Pay - Part 1 | GAY, TESTICLES, MINOR | A youth minister pays for his fun with young boys. | Pounding the final stake into the ground Tommy stood up and was proud of the
job he had done. His little two man pup tent was put in perfectly and he did
it all by himself. Tommy wished his best friend Kevin was here to see it.
“Yo, Tommy, good job”, came a voice from behind. Tommy turned around and saw a
smiling Josh staring at his handiwork. “Who’s your bunkmate?” asked Josh. “It
was supposed to be Kevin but he got the flu and didn’t make the trip,” replied
Tommy. “Well get your hiking boots on, we’re going up the trail to Deer
Mountain.”
Tommy liked Josh a great deal. He was the youth minister and was 20 years old.
Tall and muscular with loads of charisma Josh knew scripture better than most
of the minister’s Tommy had heard. Except for his father, of course. Tommy
knew Josh would have his own church one day and maybe even be on TV.
Coming back from the long hike Tommy was exhausted. He plopped down on his
sleeping bag and took off his boots and socks. He had two nasty looking
blisters and put some salve and band aids on them. “Tommy, you in there?” It
was Josh again. “Yeah, come on in,” Tommy yelled back. Josh opened the flap to
the tent and poked his head inside. “I was wondering if you might want a
bunkmate tonight and tomorrow. See, my tent is falling apart. I need to get a
new one.” Josh flashed that wide grin and Tommy said “sure, the company would
be nice.”
After a meal of hot dogs and potato salad with grape Kool-Aid, Josh told the
story of the Good Samaritan to the boys around the campfire. Afterward, Tommy
went back to the tent as his legs and feet were sore from the long hike. He
stripped down to a tee shirt and boxer shorts and got into his sleeping bag. A
short time later Josh came into the tent and spread out his sleeping bag and
began taking clothes out of his knap sack. Tommy watched Josh as he undressed
and couldn’t help but notice Josh had a large dick, maybe 9” and large low
hanging balls. His dick was different, it wasn’t circumcised. Josh had never
seen a dick with foreskin intact before. He pretended not to notice Josh’s
body but Josh knew Tommy was checking him out.
Slipping into his sleeping bag Josh asked Tommy how he was feeling. Tommy told
him he was sore from the hike.
“Tommy, do you know the story of Onan?”
“No, where is that,” Tommy answered.
“Whoa, the minister’s son doesn’t know about Onan?” Josh smiled.
“Well, I’m a bit of a backslider in that area, Josh.”
“The story is in Genesis 38. Tommy, do you mind if I ask you a personal
question?”
“Sure, go ahead,” Tommy replied.
“Do you masturbate?”
Tommy felt his face flush and suddenly he became very warm.
“Um, no,” Tommy lied.
“Well, Onan was the son of Judah and when his brother, Er, died he was
supposed to have sex with Er’s widow. But instead he masturbated so he
couldn’t have sex with her. See, Onan thought it wrong to have sex with his
sister-in-law. Without God’s gift of masturbation Onan would have committed an
immoral act.”
“I don’t understand,” Tommy said.
“What it means is that its okay to masturbate, Tommy. You’ll feel good and
relaxed and it well help you sleep. Since you have never done it, let me show
you how.”
With that Josh moved next to Tommy and unzipped his sleeping bag.
“Josh, I don’t know…” Tommy began.
“Do you trust me? Do you trust the Lord’s word?”
“Yes,” Tommy meekly replied.
Josh got on his knees and slowly began pulling down Tommy’s boxers exposing
Tommy’s exquisite little cock. Josh immediately felt his own dick get hard as
he stared at the five inches of erect boyhood with smooth hairless balls and
just a few tufts of blonde pubic hair. Josh squirted a bit of baby oil on his
hand and gently began rubbing Tommy’s dick with one hand while fondling his
balls with the other. Tommy closed his eyes and saw images of Josh’s massive
cock in his mind. His breathing began to go faster when he let out a little
“ahh” as his cum shot onto his upper shoulder above the armpit. Josh kept
rubbing as Tommy’s dick emptied the remainder of his cum onto his belly.
Josh got a small towel from his back pack and cleaned up Tommy. He pulled the
boxers back up and said, “you will sleep well now. Goodnight.” Josh then
climbed back into his own sleeping bag as Tommy fell asleep feeling as relaxed
as ever.
The next night as they were getting ready to sleep Josh said he had a present
for Tommy. He told Tommy to lift up his shirt over his face so he couldn’t
see. Josh again pulled down Tommy’s boxers. Tommy felt a warmth and tingling
sensation along his dick. With his eyes covered he couldn’t see what Josh was
doing but he loved it. Just as Tommy reached orgasm and spurted his cum he
realized his dick was in Josh’s mouth. “So this is what a blow job feels
like,” he thought to himself. He could feel Josh sucking the juices out of his
cock then pull up his boxers and retreat. “You can let your shirt down now,”
he heard Josh say. Tommy did, with a satisfied smile on his face, as he
entered a pleasant dream.
One week later Tommy and was hanging out at Kevin’s house when he told Kevin
what had happened with Josh. Kevin told Tommy that he and Josh did something
like that as well and wanted to show Tommy what they did. Kevin then explained
what ass fucking was and that he and Josh did it a couple of times already.
Tommy became real excited and said he would suck Kevin first and then ass fuck
him.
Both the 13 year old boys got undressed. The stared at each other’s dicks and
both got hard just standing there. Kevin had a small but fat dick, about four
inches long and two inches thick. He had a small patch of dark pubic hair.
Tommy got on his knees and put Kevin’s dick into his mouth and slowly began
sucking and moving back and forth like he imagined Josh did to him. Kevin held
Tommy’s head and began moving his hips faster and faster. Tommy had a hard
time breathing and almost gagged but he kept up and enjoyed giving pleasure to
his friend. Suddenly he felt the warm salty cum fill his mouth and run down
his throat. He started to gag and wanted Kevin’s dick out of his mouth but
Kevin was holding his head too tight. Finally, Kevin let go and Tommy began
spitting up the cum. Kevin said, “that was fantastic.” Tommy was still
coughing a little bit and said “next time don’t hold my head so tight and tell
me when you’re gonna cum so I can be prepared.” Kevin replied, “okay, next
time I will. Now, take some of this Vaseline and rub it on your dick. Then
stick your dick up my ass.”
Kevin leaned over a chair and spread his cheeks. Tommy followed directions but
Kevin began complaining to go slow as it hurt. Finally, Tommy got his entire 5
inch dick all the way into Kevin’s tight little hole and began gyrating his
hips while his balls slapped Kevin’s ass. “This is good…ummm…” Tommy moaned.
Just then a door opened and Tommy heard a loud female voice scream, “what is
going on here? What are you boys doing?” Kevin jumped up and grabbed his
clothes and ran into the bathroom. Tommy stood there with a greased up boner
staring at Kevin’s mother. “Thomas Johnson! You ought to be ashamed! Get your
clothes on and get out of my house!” The door slammed shut and Tommy quickly
got dressed and hurried home.
Everything seemed normal at home. Tommy’s father, Rev. William Johnson, was in
his study while his mother and sister prepared dinner. After dinner Tommy
started his homework when he heard a knock on the door. A moment later Kevin
and his mother entered the living room while Rev. Johnson greeted them. Kevin
looked like he had been crying. The Reverend asked Tommy and Kevin to come
into the study along with the boys’ mothers.
“So, boys, what happened today?
“Nothing, sir,” replied Tommy as Kevin stared at the floor.
“Son, tell me the truth. God doesn’t like liars.”
“Rev. Johnson, we were just curious, just looking. Nothing happened,” blurted
out Kevin.
“Do you boys know the story of Sodom and Gomorrah? God destroyed the city and
the Sodomites in it. Do you know why? Because He hates fags and will punish
them. Your best bet is to repent and tell me what happened,” said a stern
looking Rev. Johnson.
“Its like Kevin said, dad. We were just looking and curious,” countered Tommy.
“Has anyone ever touched you, Thomas?”
Now it was Tommy’s turn to stare at the floor. “Um, yeah.”
“And you Kevin? Have you been sodomized before?”
“Yes sir,” Kevin whispered.
“And who is the Sodomite in my flock?”
“Josh” both boys said at the same time.
“Thank you both for telling me the truth, as awful as it is. Tomorrow is a
prayer meeting at Doc Leyland’s. You both will be there. In the meantime,
repent your sins and beg for Jesus’ forgiveness.”
The next evening Tommy and his parents drove to Doc Leyland’s. They drove
around to the back to his big old barn. There were already a few cars parked
there. Going inside the barn Tommy saw an odd looking cross. It stood about
seven feet tall and was very wide. The shape had the t lower than usual. It
looked more like the Red Cross symbol. Doc and his wife Blanche were there, as
were Kevin and his parents. Deacon Marks and Deacon Taylor and their wives
were also present, but that was all. A mule stood in his stall.
Rev. Johnson told Tommy and Kevin to kneel in front near the cross. To their
left they saw Josh slowly walking towards them. Deacon Taylor and Deacon Marks
walked beside him. Josh was wearing a long white robe, like a baptismal robe.
He was smiling and holding an open Bible in his hands. As he stood in front of
the cross Deacons Taylor and Marks each grabbed an arm and quickly tied them
to the cross as the Bible fell to the ground. Josh seemed stunned and said,
“what the…what are you doing?” A rope was lashed around his ankles and another
around his neck pinning his head tightly against the thick wood. Josh
struggled while yelling, “stop this. Let me go. Rev. Johnson what is going on
here? I demand an answer!”
Rev. Johnson picked up the fallen Bible and waving it in his right hand said,
“Joshua, are you a Sodomite?”
“No, of course not,” he replied.
“Are you Satan?”
“Rev. Johnson, don’t be silly. Of course not.”
At that Rev. Johnson nodded to Mrs. Marks, Mrs. Taylor and Mrs. Leyland. The
women approached Josh holding scissors. Two women carefully cut off Josh’s
robe leaving only his white jockeys. The third woman, Doc’s wife, cut off the
jockeys leaving Josh naked before the small group.
“I ask you again, Joshua. Have you committed sodomy?” barked Rev. Johnson.
“No. Now you had your fun. Let me go.”
“Oh, this isn’t fun. We know Satan has taken over your heart and we intend to
cleanse your soul before God. Boys, has this man sodomized you?”
Kevin stood up. “Yes, sir. And Jesus has forgiven my sinful ways.”
Next Tommy stood up. “At camp, he sodomized me.”
“I want you both to come here and kneel before Joshua and pray,” said Rev.
Johnson.
The boys did as they were told.
Mrs. Leyland then took a straight razor and began scraping the hair off of
Josh’s scrotum. Josh continued to struggle and Tommy noticed the redness
around his neck and forearms where the rope was tied. He also noticed Josh’s
erection as Blanche Leyland shaved him.
Doc Leyland then came up and washed Betadine over Josh’s genitals. He pulled a
syringe out of his black bag. “No, Doc,” said Rev. Johnson. “He hasn’t
repented yet. But he will.”
Doc put the syringe back in his bag and took out a scalpel. He walked over to
Josh and now the boys could see the fear in Josh’s face. Josh struggled even
harder and began screaming “NO” but to no avail. Blanche lifted his cock up
and just below the base Doc made a deep incision going straight down along the
center of Josh’s scrotum. Josh let out a loud scream as everyone in the barn
began mumbling prayers. Tommy and Kevin watched the blood dripping down onto
into the hay below Josh’s feet. Doc peeled back the two halves of Josh’s
scrotum until both of Josh’s testicles were exposed. Doc put a clamp on the
left cord and pulled down until the entire cord was stretched. He cut the cord
below the clamp with the scalpel and the testicle with cord attached dropped
into the hay on the ground. Blanche walked over to the mule’s stall and
clipped some hair from its tail and handed a small strand to Doc. He sutured
the remaining cord with the mule’s hair and went to work on the other
testicle. All the while Josh was screaming and tears rolled down his cheeks.
He had bitten his lip and blood rolled down his chin. Doc cut the cord to
Josh’s remaining testicle and it too fell into the hay. Doc again sutured that
cord the same as the first. Finally, Doc sewed up Josh’s scrotum using another
strand of hair culled from the mule’s tail. As a final mark, Doc sliced off
Josh’s foreskin. Blanche put an antibiotic salve on Josh’s wounds and quietly
walked away.
“Joshua, you will never sodomize another again. The temptation Satan placed in
your soul has been cut out. You are cast out of our congregation, so go and
sin no more.” Deacons Taylor and Marks untied Josh from the cross as he was
whimpering like a baby. They put a new robe over his body and walked with him
out of the barn.
“Thomas and Kevin, never forget what you saw here tonight. This was God’s
punishment for Sodomites. Don’t ever become a fag or you may end up on that
cross,” came the stern warning from Rev. Johnson.
End of Part 1
* * * |
Extract | TESTICLES, Other: snuff | She wished to help | Extract
It would be a night to remember; the fireworks lit the sky
and Sharon couldn't get enough of the candy floss circulating through
the park. Everywhere sparklers danced, held aloft by tiny hands, and
the occasional report of a stay firecracker kept the crowd on a giddy
edge. Down by the shoreline, the water reflected countless "safe and
sane " fireworks displays, and the sounds of celebrations reflected
across the bay. Sharon had come to get away from it all; the sounds
of the city had suddenly become too much for her. Here, on this
normally quiet bay, she had always been able to restore her senses,
and savor a lifestyle deliciously different from her own. Smoke from
a thousand barbeques filled the air with delicious odors; stinging
eyes already irritated by spent gunpowder. She walked over a grassy
nole and felt panic for the first time. Her breath became short and
her heart pounded with an uneven resonance. She slipped to her
knees, and then to her face, overcome by the freezing grip on her
neck.
She awoke a short time later to a sea of concerned faces.
Briefly able to smile, she slowly rose to a sitting position, and
steadied herself before rising to walk away from the embarrasing
scene. Dismissing the entire episode as an overdose of sugar, she
resumed her observations as the crowd ebbed about her. Then it
struck again, this time about her waist with the same icy grip. She
took a step forward and went down on her face for the second time.
This time the icy grip lingered and gradually enveloped her entire
body. She felt numb and frightened but was able to retain her
senses. As the ambulance pulled into the park, she felt herself
leaving the comfort of her body. From above, she watched the EMT's
work over her body frantically. With resignation reflected in their
eyes, she saw them cover her corpse with a flimsy white blanket. She
knew she had tasted her last cotton candy.
She closed her eyes and waited for the rush from the upcoming
voyage through the tunnel towards the bright light and her desceased
ancestors that never occured. After some time, she opened her eyes,
to find herself drifting above the park on invisible currents of
air. It was the most tranquil experience she could remember. Gazing
at her body, she realized she had crossed into a spirit realm, for
although she could discern the outline of her naked body, all other
detail was hidden in a faint glow. The crowd was dispersing below
her now, and she was saddened by the thought of her departure
interrupting the festivities. Clouds began to drift below her,
partially obscuring her view as she slowly drifted upwards. Rolling
onto her back, she looked up to see the crystal ship for the first
time; a formless shape that refracted rainbows of light in all
directions. Within moments, she was drawn inside where she was
bathed in a warm gentle white light. A voice came to as a father to
his only child.
"Welcome Sharon. Thank you for your patience and acceptance.
We will instruct you as to how to use your new faculties, and where
to deposit the extract."
"Wait a minute," she exclaimed; "Just what are you talking
about?"
"Ah, you don't remember; I'll explain. Do you remember three
years ago when you looked towards our ship, and asked us to help you
make a difference in this world?"
"Obviously, I don't!" She retorted.
"You were at a turning point in your life, and you gazed
directly into our ship when you asked," the nurturing voice
responded. "Here, we'll show you. . ."
And with that she felt herself float close to a machine that
glowed when she arrived. Two small probes entered her, and she
relived a time when she was younger and vibrant, filled with love and
energy. As she gazed at a nearby rainbow, she was filled with peace,
and in a silent prayer asked to be led to where she could make the
most difference in the world. They had heard, but waited for her to
plunge into her world of routines and annoyances before they rescued
her. She nodded her acceptance and waited for them to teach her what
she would need to know. Her wait was short lived, as flashes of
images along with a myriad of voices began speaking at once. It was
organized mental mayhem for a brief eternity until everything
abruptly stopped, and in a blur she found herself transported to a
wind-blown vacant gas station in Arizona. It was like one of the
scenes from a soda commercial, where everthing was dead, dry, and
dusty except for the soda machine that was in use continually by the
motorist who stopped there.
She was different now; her figure was slim and beautiful, and
she found that with a mere thought, she could change her features and
assets. Her sexuality was alive and responded to any stimulation
including the slightest touch and she became obsessed with it. With
a mere thought, she could move from one place to another; moving
through walls and past jet aircraft with the speed of thought. She
could hear the thoughts of those nearby, and felt alive throughout
her entire being, no longer limited by senses and intuition. She was
exhilarated, yet driven at the same time, for she knew her purpose
was to secure as much extract as she could for her friends above.
She would mate with every man she could, secure his semen, and
deliver it immediately to the receptical that was always awaiting in
a nearby dimension. With newly learned muscular techniques along
with the retractable probe implanted in her womb, she could drain
his reproductive resources; then completely void the precious extract
while it was at its' most virilent stage in a matter of seconds..
With her ability to change shapes and personalities at will, her
donors could be as varied as nature itself
Her first donor was a middle-aged businessman. She came to
him while he studied the Journal in a secluded area of the park. She
was blond and sexy, and he couldn't believe his good fortune.
Jumping behind a growth of bushes, they ravaged each others bodies.
He tore at her breasts as his throbbing organ smashed into her furry
mound. At the height of his passion, the probe automatically
extended its flexible tube and plunged deep into his urethra, sucking
every drop of liquid into her pulsing vestibule. He screamed,
grabbed his gonads, and rolled off into the dense underbrush in a
fetal position. The recepticle appeared from its resident dimension,
and placing it between the flower of her pussy lips, she forced the
milky fluid out of her womb. With a sigh, she quickly restored her
appearance, and wandered back towards the ball field.
"He's had a vascectomy, my dear." The soothing voice
returned, chiding her failed first attempt.
"Damn!" She thought; "I just can't keep doing this!" She
winced at its observation, and decided to pursue younger, less
experienced and more virile material. She found him playing center
field, and with a mere twitch of her finger, he trotted towards her
with his eyes glowing in anticipation.
"Hi, I'm M. . . .!" and before he could finish; her lips
locked onto his and her hand reached for the lumps between his legs.
Before he could catch his breath, she had his jersey ripped open and
his pants were being pulled down to his knees. She was a short-
haired brunette with a jogging outfit, and a luscious tan. Roughly
messaging his manhood through his jockeys, she pulled the T-shirt off
with a smooth motion and planted his hands on her smooth tight
breasts. Her tan-lines were all the way to her nipples, and her
belly had the composure of a refined athlete. Stripping her shorts
off with her free hand, she continued to message his manhood,
concentrating on the glans to stimulate his pre-cum. When the first
drops oozed on to her soft hands, she quickly forced him down on his
back, inserted his manhood, and began pumping fitfully as her hands
messaged his gonads. Within just a few moments, she felt his abs
tighten, and knowing he would soon release, she forced him all the
way into her depths, to allow the probe easy access. Her muscles
began to rythmically draw him deeper into her womb, and just as the
first ejeculate surged from his prostrate, the probe dutifully found
his opening buried within the glans, and forced itself down the
length of his surging organ. He screamed, and grabbed his gonads,
now being unmercifully drained of their juices. She continued to
rock her hips up and down on his surging manhood until he collapsed;
his testes the size of two shriveled peas. Again the receptical
appeared, and she pumped frothy extract into its chamber while
feeling her own orgasm building. As the last threads of his essense
fell away from her swollen pussy, she fell back and frantically
stroked her engorged lips. She muffled her screams with the back of
her hand as a multiple orgasms shook her body in quick succession.
Again with a sigh, she reconfigured her appearance, and looked over
at his exhausted form lying in the tall grass, his deflated manhood
laying to one side in total exhaustion. She smiled and turned
towards the playground across the street.
Three young boys were shooting hoops, dodging and darting to
gain possesion of the weathered, and partially deflated ball. Within
just a few moments, Sharon became a substantially younger redhead,
and ran across the court snaring the ball with one swift motion. As
her victims tried to regain their plaything, she quickly lifted her
dress to reveal nothing underneath. They froze and their interests
immediately shifted to her bouncing buns as she skipped back across
the court and into the equipment room next to the showers. Within
moments they were all naked, and she was carefully giving them
a "crash-course" in human sexuality; she had one of the hairless
organs in her mouth, one in her anus, and one stroking away
frantically at her tight little womb. Their youth was reflected in
their lack of control as they all climaxed within moments of one
another, and ran into the shower room shrieking with their first
conquest. She sat up, with the probe starting to emerge from her
tiny lips, and wondered what had just come and gone. The depository
appeared but she had precious little to offer, for despite their
youthful vigor, their extract was just barely adequate in development
to be of any use. She changed her form into that of the local
janitor, went below the showers, and secured the cold water to exact
her revenge. Within seconds, the boys ran screaming into the locker
room amidst the embrace of their soft towels. She smiled to herself
as she again changed her form and headed out for her next conquest.
The local police were mystified at the two men they had
found; one cowering in the woods, and the other under the bleachers
at the local ball field. Both had told similar stories, but the
assailant was so different in each case that there was no apparent
suspect. She overheard Sgt. Lasky's concerns for the communities
safety; and touched by sincerity, she waited until he was alone in
the squad car on his way back to the precinct before she appeared in
the back seat. He slammed on the brakes, staring in the rear view
mirror at her pristine oriental face. He started to speak, but she
pressed her lips to his, learning its effectiveness from the center-
fielder. He only squirmed in his seat for a few moments, and then
relaxed to allow Sharon full access to him. She carressed his
slightly over-weight figure through his clothes, and was able to
arouse him quickly by applying gentle pressure to his prostrate.
Removing his trousers completely, she began oral administrations on
his engorged member and hastily removed her clothing. As her face,
her body was pristine, with clear pale features and tiny buds on the
tips of her small firm breasts. His manhood surged, and she took
advantage of his compromised position to thrust him into her moist
warm canal. They held other tightly, slowing building on each
others' arousal until she began to peak. Feeling her spasms increase
along the length of his manhood, he grunted as the first surge of
knotted, milky substance screamed into his urethra on its way into
her womanhood. The first geyser shot past the probe and splashed
against her womb with such fury that most of it rebounded back out of
her feminine opening. Her eyes went wide with surprise, as did his
when the probe sped down the length of his organ and into his tight
ball sack. The both shrieked in a wondrous mutual orgasm, and she
continued to rub her swollen clitoris against his pubic bone as
several more orgasms shattered her pristine body. His eyes were
glazed and his body limp as the last of his masculine juices were
drawn into her throbbing vestibule. She continued to rub against him
long after he was totally drained and unconscious, savoring the feel
of his limp, expended organ in womanhood. Finally, with a twinge of
regret, she drained his essence, and changed her form for the journey
ahead - she was getting too well known around this town.
She arrived in the parking lot as they emerged from the
tavern with more than enough alcohol in their bloodstream. She
briskly tried to walk past them, but the larger of the three grabbed
her arm, and spun her about to face him. The other two men
surrounded her, sealing any path of escape and triggering her fight
or flight reponse. She was now a black goddess, with a light brown
complexion and large inquisitive eyes. Her muscle tone was highly
visible through her sheer, form-fitting dress, and her shapely hands
supported long and beautifully manicured nails. Spinning around, she
caught her first victim off guard with a kick to his genitals, and
the second fell with two rapid blows to his stomach. The third
turned to flee, but the combination of too many calories and too many
beers made him an easy target for her kidney blows and he toppled
over backwards onto the pavement. The first and second assailants
rolled to and fro in agony retching from her unexpected assault as
the third lay flat on his back staring at the stars.
Suddenly, the lights went out - the bar was closing. Near
panic, she knew the last customers would soon file out to begin their
journeys home. She quickly grabbed the two puking drunks by their
shirts and drug them into the adjacent field; returning quickly to
grab the third corpse and drag him next to his two companions.
Ducking low, she waited until the last customers had driven into the
night, keeping her victims quiet with quick jabs to their gonads when
they tried to speak. Finally, with no cars left in the parking lot,
she rose and with a great deal of effort stripped them. Stepping
back to look at their flaccid genitals, she laughed aloud, trying to
imagine how they could ever satisfy a woman. The first began to
stir, and in half-anger, half-repulsion, she grabbed his two gonads,
and dug her nails deep into his scrotum. He started to scream, but
she silenced him with a quick chop to his throat, and continued to
rip the two creamy organs from his body. Blood filled the palm of
her hand and one of the slippery gonads slipped from her grasp and
fell to his anus suspended by a thin cord. She pulled the first one
free with a slight "pop" and grabbed the other dangling gonad, and
ripped it from his body amidst the sounds of his hoarse screams. He
collapsed from the pain.
The second victim began to stir, and holding the detatched
gonads in one hand, she used her free hand to stimulate his flaccid
manhood. Although still intoxicated, he soon began to sprout a weak
erection, and realizing he wasn't quite up to the task she required,
she closed her large sensuous lips around his manhood and began oral
stimulation. Using her tongue in circular motions around his
glans, his organ began to throb purplish-red from his arousal.
With great precision, she placed her nails strategically around the
base of his hairy scrotum, and with a quick and firm motion detached
his gonads and part of his organ. Quickly pincing the base of the
softening organ, she twisted it completely off of his body - the
blood spurted from the wound high into the air in a dark geyser
barely missing her face. He twisted in agony, and within a few
moments twitched violently and expired. She looked at the third
victim who was still unconscious, and decided to use his stomach as a
pillow as she reclined on her back. Reaching between her sensuous
legs, she maintained a firm grip on the base of the detached organ
with one hand, and inserted the detached gonads, one at a time into
her moist canal with the other. She forced them all the way into
her throbbing womb with the detached organ, and felt the probe extend
to withdraw their extract at a relaxed pace, knowing the gonads
wouldn't get up and walk away. She closed her eyes, and allowed her
body to complete its designed evolution, thinking that she may have
discovered a new, and more efficient means to an end. It sure was
messy, though.
She was so lost in her thoughts, that she didn't hear the
taverns' owner approach until it was too late. He plunged the bowie
knife into her abdomen, just above her womb. She screamed and
struggled to get up, but he threw his large frame onto her reclined
figure, pinning her to the ground. Blood begin to ooze from around
the blade as he unzipped his trousers with a free hand and then
applied direct pressure to her womb, expelling its contents.
"So you thought you could neuter my buddies," he drawled as
he ripped her hand away from her throbbing vulva; "Well I reckon I'm
just goin' to neuter your ass!"
With that he plunged his manhood into her wet pussy, forcing
the knife deeper into her ruptured bladder. He pumped his massive
hairy meat into her without mercy, as she started screaming from the
blood that was flooding her abdomen. He continued his assault until
with a giant spasm, he exploded, sending cream deep into her womb.
Dutifully, the saturated probe extended towards his urethra, and as
it entered, he quickly withdrew his manhood in surprise. He was
pursued by the probe, and upon seeing its glistening head, he grabbed
it with his free hand pulling it out completely, and severed it
neatly with the knife he had withdrawn from her. She screamed again
and struggled to get up, but he thrust his knee into her stomach,
leaving her breathless. He studied the probe for awhile, and then
rose to his feet, secured his now exhausted manhood, and drug her
over the grass into a small, semi-hidden shed. He turned the bare
light bulb and immediately she saw a set of rusty knives and some
ropes. She tried desperately to shift into some other form, but
without her breath she was could only gasp to maintain her awareness.
He tied her beautiful hands to the rafters, then picked up a
large set of pruning shears and cut away her clothing. He slowly
spun her body around several times and admired her full breasts
crowned with dark rippled nipples, and the matted growth of pubic
hair above her sex. With a hint of resignation he withdrew the
larger serrated edged knife and, beginning at her anus, her used
short sawing motions to bring the blade up her spine to the base of
her scalp. She began kicking her feet frantically. He slid a large
pan under her body just in time to watch her organs drip down over
her tight buttocks and into the pan, leaving slimy trails of blood
where they had been. She tilted her head back and as shock set in,
her eyes glazed and her moans ceased. Her legs began to twitch and
spasm, and the blood running down between her cheeks was slowing to
a trickle. Within moments, her muscles refused to function, and her
tortured heart finally quit. With both skill and great patience, he
began to cut the skin away from the supporting structures. It would
take him the better part of the night to clean and hang her fine
young skin, but after aging, she would make fine wallets and shoes.
The morning found him at working over the pan next to a trickle of
water from the garden hose, preparing her liver for the evening
meal. He would dispose of her few remains and his buddies in the
meat grinder he had just recently purchased, and, with copius amounts
of food coloring, sell it as hamburger.
"We've lost Sharon," he voice spoke softly.
His companions paused with a silent showing of both
compassion and solidarity. Good enduring help was getting harder to
find these days, and they would have to wait for a long while before
another would appear with her tenacity and creativity. |
At the Dentists | GAY, WARNING, TESTICLES | Hot young executive has more than his widom teeth removed on a visit to the dentist | Just one more reason to be afraid of going to the dentist.
Wow! He sure had big balls! And he was one hell of a hot looking dude to. I
couldn’t believe my luck when I walked into the waiting room at the dentist’s
office. He was the only other person in the room so I took a seat opposite
him, so I could discreetly check him out. God, it was hard not to gawk. He was
ruggedly handsome and looked like the junior executive type, though I could
easily imagine the dude as a construction worker or lumber jack. I figured him
to be probably late 20’s or early 30’s at the most. Though it was hard to tell
with him sitting down I figured him to be around 6 feet tall. He had neatly
trimmed short brown hair and was wearing a very professional looking grey
business suit. Even with the suit on I could tell he had broad shoulders and a
firm chest. The dude looked like he worked out a lot. He had well-defined
cheekbones, hazel eyes, clean shaven and a strong chin. I noticed an expensive
gold wedding band on his left hand. This hunky dude could easily have been a
model or movie star. I was green with envy just staring at him.
But what really drew my attention was the impressive bulge he had between his
legs. His face was buried in a magazine and he was sitting kind of slouched
back in the chair. This pushed his hips forward and caused the crotch of his
pants to ride up tight around his balls. Like most oblivious straight dudes,
he was sitting with his feet apart and his legs spread wide. As I was sitting
directly opposite him this gave me a clear line of vision up between his legs
and right at the fat rounded bulge in his groin. Or I should say bulges. His
pants were so tight I could clearly see the outline of each one of his nuts.
The seam of his pants was pressed tight against his balls, separating them.
His right nut was obviously the larger of the two; though his left nut looked
to be a pretty good size also. I couldn’t really see his dick but a small lump
in the material above his balls led me to believe his dick was resting up and
to the left.
I have been a ball freak as long as I can remember, at least as far back as
puberty. And this was just the sort of hot hunky dude I had always fantasized
about; masculine, handsome, well dressed, a success in the business world. God
I would have loved to castrate this guy. That was my other big fantasy, I have
always wanted to nut a guy. You could say that over the years castration had
grown into a compulsion.
I soon started popping a woody just looking at this dudes balls. He was
sitting so close I could have easily reached out and grabbed those hot nuts in
my hand. God I wanted to give them a squeeze, watch him gasp for breath as I
crushed his nads in my fist. If I had a knife I could have easily shoved it
right into the dudes bulging basket, before he even knew what hit him.
My lover Dave, the dentist, also had a castration obsession. I guess this is
what drew us together after we first met in an online chat room 5 years ago.
We were the ultimate gay couple; he was 6 years older than me and was a dental
surgeon. I was currently in my fourth year at med school and was interning at
one of the local hospitals. We often discussed castrating a guy during our sex
sessions. Brad Pitt and David Beckham would have cringed in horror had they
known how many times we got off while fantasizing about how hot it would be to
tie them up and slowly hack their balls off.
The dude opposite me was obviously Dave’s last patient for the day. I had
finished my day early so was waiting for Dave to get off work.
“The dentist will see you now Mr. Summers” said Dave’s receptionist.
I hated to see the dude stand up and leave. I could have stared at his balls
all day.
The dude left after about 20 minutes and then I went in to see Dave.
“Wow, who was that hot guy” I blurted out as soon as we were alone.
“Brad Summers, new patient of mine, just in for a cleaning.
Yeah he is a hot one isn’t he” said Dave
“Hot, my God, did you get a chance to check out his basket? It looks like he
has a huge set of balls. I was practically drooling when I saw him in the
waiting room.”
“Well I was concentrating on his teeth” replied Dave “But yeah I agree, I sure
would like to get at his nuts.”
That night, Brad Summers became our new castration fantasy. We blew our loads
talking about how we would like to tie him up in the dentist chair and slowly
slice his balls off.
That was one of the hottest fantasy sessions we had ever had. Sure Brad Pitt
and David Beckham were hot, but Brad Summers was someone we had actually seen
and met. He had been in Dave’s dentist chair. I had seen his bulging sack.
Somehow we found fantasizing about Brad Summers seemed so much more realistic;
almost as if it could really happen.
The next day I checked him out on Facebook®; he didn’t have a page, I wouldn’t
expect a dude like him to, but his wife sure did. And she wasn’t shy about
spilling all the family details. Brad was 30 years old and a junior executive
in a large downtown advertising firm. They had married six years ago and
already had 3 sons aged 1, 3 and 5. Wow not only were the dudes balls huge,
but obviously very potent. They say that guys who only father daughters are
not as masculine as guys whose spooge can produce sons. There were lots of
family pictures as well. One photo showed Brad and his wife on a beach with
the kids lined up in front of them. Brad sure looked great in a suit but he
was fucking awesome in a speedo. Just as I suspected the dude had a firm
muscular torso and a nice hairy chest. The speedo he was wearing looked like
it could hardly contain his massive nads.
Dave and I fantasized about nutting Brad Summers for the next 3 weeks, until
he became an obsession for both of us. Then one night Dave said to me: “Well I
think it’s about time we finally did it.”
“Did what” I asked
“Castrate Brad Summers” he answered
“What? You’re joking right?” I said to Dave.
“Nope, I’ve never been more serious in my life” he replied
“Really, do you honestly think we could get away with castrating him?” I
answered, shocked and incredulous but suddenly aroused.
“You know we’ve been obsessing about castrating a guy for years and I’ve been
thinking about it for a long time. I think we could do it quite easily” He
answered me.
“But, but how?” I asked, my dick was starting to get hard.
“Well, the dude has never had his wisdom teeth taken out; and at his last
check-up he had a very minor infection in one of them. I advised him that he
should have had his wisdom teeth removed years ago. The longer he waits the
more problems those teeth will cause him in the future. Anyway he will need to
be put under for the procedure, for at least 45 minutes to an hour. I can work
on his teeth while you work on his balls; you think you can handle that,
you’re the 4th year med student?”
“Ah, ah, I don’t know, I never considered that we would actually do it?” I
stammered
My mind was starting to reel as I thought about it. I still had all sorts of
doubts.
“Look, do you want to make our fantasy a reality or not? We’ve talked about
this long enough, and we may never get another chance like this?” Dave replied
somewhat irritably
I was still unsure, but my dick wasn’t, it was now hard as steel and dripping
pre cum. The more I thought about it the more I warmed to the idea.
“But are you sure, we can get away with it?” I asked.
“That depends on you” he replied. “You’re the med student, think you can cut
the guys’ nads off without him knowing?”
“I’m sure I could cut his balls out of his scrotum, castration is one of the
more simple surgical procedures, but won’t the guy notice his nuts are gone?”
I stammered.
“Do I have to think of everything” said Dave irritably “don’t they have fake
testicles for guys with cancer? You can just pop some of those into his ball
sac.”
“But he’s sure to notice the pain” I objected.
“No problem” said Dave “I’ll have him on really heavy duty pain killers for
his teeth, he won’t even notice the pain in his ball sac.”
After a few moments of thinking about it I replied “you know I think we could
actually do this.”
Dave was grinning ear to ear.
Over the next couple of weeks I read as much as I could on the bilateral
oriectomy or castration procedure. I stayed late at the med school a few
nights and castrated a couple of cadavers in the morgue for practice. I also
went about collecting all the instruments that I would need. What Dave
couldn’t get through his dental practice I stole from the med school and
hospital where I worked as an intern.
One day I got a frantic call from Dave in the afternoon.
“We have to do it tonight” he said
“What, I thought we would have more time” I replied surprised.
“I just got a call from the dude, his infected tooth has suddenly gotten
really bad and I’ve got to remove his wisdom teeth A.S.A.P. I’ve scheduled him
to come in at 7 this evening. My receptionist leaves at 6. It will be just you
me and him. Are you up for this?” Dave asked.
“Ah-ah I guess so” I stammered, suddenly shocked at the speed of events.
“Well it’s now or never, what do you want to do” Dave demanded
After a moment I replied, “Yeah, let’s do this, let’s cut his fucking breeder
balls off”
I left school early and rushed home to double check everything. I had
collected all the instruments I would need for Brad Summers’ castration in a
small black doctor’s bag.
I had three surgical scalpels, forceps, clamps, surgical sutures, surgical
glue, scissors, a cauterizing pen and 4 silicon testicles, 2 medium and 2
large, I wasn’t quite sure which ones would be a better match until I actually
had the dudes’ nuts out of his scrotum. And finally a specimen jar for his
severed balls.
I arrived at the dentist office promptly at 6:30. The receptionist leaves at
6; so it was just me and Dave. Brad Summers was due to arrive at 7 pm. The
half hour wait nearly killed me. I couldn’t stand the anticipation. Dave was
equally as nervous as I paced around the office.
“God, I can’t believe we are really going to do this.” I said.
“Yeah, I know” replied Dave, “we’ve been fantasizing about this for years, my
dick is hard just thinking about it”
“So is mine” I answered.
“Are you sure you have everything you need?” Dave asked yet again.
Somewhat irritably I replied: “yes I started getting ready a month ago when
you first came up with this whole crazy idea.”
“Well it’s not too late to back out now” Dave answered.
After a moment’s pause I replied: “No, let’s do this, if we don’t now we’ll
forever wonder what it would be like to castrate a guy. If nothing else it
should get this obsession out of our system.”
After what seemed like an interminable wait, we heard a knock on the outer
office door and Brad Summers yelled “Hello?” We both jumped up excitedly.
“OK, keep cool and professional, we don’t want him getting suspicious” Dave
said.
I took a deep breath as Dave opened the door and let Brad in. He looked just
as handsome as ever and was wearing a loose fitting beige business suit. He
was sporting a faint 5-o’clock shadow that made him look even more masculine.
It was all I could do to keep from hyperventilating as Dave introduced me as
his assistant. Brad perfunctorily shook my hand as I said “Pleased to meet
you.”
It was all I could do to keep from trembling as I shook the hand of the man I
was about to castrate. The dude looked kind of miserable from the pain in his
tooth so he didn’t seem to notice how nervous we both were.
Dave was about to lead him into the surgical room when Brad said: “Ah, I got
to take a quick whiz before we get started”
“Sure no problem, third door on the left down the hall” I said. As I watched
Mr. Summers head for the men’s room I couldn’t help but think that if
everything went according to our plan: the next time he left this office the
dude would be a eunuch and his testicles would be in the specimen jar I had
waiting in my black bag. When he returned a few minutes later I stole a quick
glance at his crotch, but his baggy dress pants didn’t reveal any of the
impressive bulge I knew was hidden below.
“Did you have any questions about the procedure before we get started” said
Dave in his professional dentist’s voice.
“Nope let’s just get this done” replied Brad.
“OK and is someone picking you up afterwards? You know you won’t be able to
drive after the anesthetic” said Dave.
“No I’ll be taking a cab; the wife has to watch the kids”
“Alright them Mr. Summers, please come into my surgery” instructed Dave.
As Brad went into the inner office with Dave, I quickly and quietly locked the
door to the outer office and followed them in. My heart was starting to race
with anticipation.
“Please make yourself comfortable, you might as well remove your jacket and
tie, you will probably be under about an hour.
Brad removed his suit jacket as I handed him a hangar. He had on a crisp white
dress shirt that really showed off his broad shoulders and well-muscled torso.
He quickly removed his tie and shoved it into his jacket pocket then he undid
the top two buttons of his shirt to make himself more comfortable. As he was
doing this mini-striptease my dick started to grow. I was wearing tight
underwear and really loose slacks so I figured Brad would not notice the
raging hard-on I was developing.
Brad settled himself comfortably into the dentist’s chair as Dave placed a
surgical bib around his neck. Dave positioned himself near Brad’s head; while
I sat beside Dave, closer to Brad’s waist – and balls.
“Alright Mr. Summers, I am just going to recline the chair now” said Dave
As the chair tilted slowly backwards Brad’s head was lowered and his hips were
raised. I couldn’t help but stare between his legs as his balls were pushed up
closer towards me.
“Please roll up your sleeve, I am just going to inject the tranquilizer now,
please relax and start counting backwards from 100” instructed Dave.
The dude got as far as 95 before his voice started to slur, he was sleeping
soundly before he reached 90.
“Can you hear me Mr. Summers? Mr. Summers?” asked Dave as he gently squeezed
his muscular shoulder. No response.
“OK, he’s out” said Dave, “we’ve got 45 minutes”.
“Gee I wonder if he fucked his wife last night” I said
“Well it’s going to be too bad if he didn’t. Besides he’s already got three
sons, he doesn’t need to produce any more breeder brats” replied Dave, almost
derisively.
I noticed an evil little gleam in his eyes that I had never seen before.
Dave rolled up his tray of dental tools, and I rolled up my tray of surgical
tools.
Wow, I couldn’t believe I was about to castrate the hot straight dude,
unconscious in the chair in front of me. My heart was pounding and my fingers
were trembling as I started to slowly undo Brad’s belt buckle. I had to pause
and take a deep breath to calm myself down. I’m sure the dude would have
killed me if he knew what I was doing, violating his most private of parts,
and about to destroy his manhood.
“You OK” said Dave.
Taking another deep breath I said “Yeah, I just need to calm myself down a
bit”
I may have had doubts, but my dick sure didn’t. I don’t think it had ever been
that hard in my life.
The dude’s baggy dress pants were very loose and had a long zipper in the
front. After I got his belt unbuckled I gently popped open the top button of
his pants. Then I slowly eased his zipper all the way down. As the two flaps
of his pants separated, his underwear came gradually into view. First the
elastic waist band, then the flat white cotton material below and then - the
bulge. I had to undo the two bottom buttons of his shirt and gently tug the
shirttails up and out of the way.
I was surprised at how worn and tattered the dudes’ underwear was. The dude
was incredibly well-dressed so his ratty briefs seemed out of place. He was
wearing a very old pair of Calvin Klein tighty-whiteys, but they had a grayish
tinge now. The waistband was kind of frayed and there were a few small tears
in the cotton. In all fairness to the dude though, I’m sure when he got
dressed this morning he didn’t expect anyone to be checking out his underwear
at the dentists’ office.
Still the briefs showed off the dude’s basket nicely. I could see the tubular
shape of his penis as it curved to the left, resting on top of his balls.
There was a small wet piss stain in the material at the end of his knob. The
dude should have shaken it off a few more times. Below his dick his fat balls
were just as impressive as ever. His nuts looked like they were ready to burst
out of the cotton.
Dave stopped working on his teeth and whistled in appreciation at the sight.
He couldn’t resist cupping those two irresistible lumps in his palm and
squeezing them gently.
“Wow, this guy really does have an awesome set of baby-makers doesn’t he? Well
not for long. Shit man, cutting these off of him is going to be so fucking
hot” Dave whispered.
I noticed that Dave was also starting to breathe more rapidly.
“Ok, Ok enough” I said “we have a lot of work to do”.
Dave reluctantly released his grip on Brad’s nuts and went back to his wisdom
teeth.
I grasped the waistband of his briefs and gently pulled them downwards. Brad
was obviously one of those guys who whipped his prick out over the top of his
underwear to take a piss. The waistband had lost a lot of its elasticity and
was not tight at all. This made my job all the easier. His dense, dark pubic
hair brushed against my knuckles as I eased the waistband lower. Another tug
and his thick chubby of a dick popped into view. His penis was maybe 2.5
inches soft and had a rather ugly circumcision scar. Of course I couldn’t
really judge the size of his rod without seeing it hard. God, I would have
loved to suck this dude off and swallow his virile, son-producing jizz.
Alas the clock was ticking. My heart was pounding so hard if felt like it was
going to explode out of my chest. My dick was leaking so much pre cum it was
starting to soak my underwear. I could feel the warm stickiness on my inner
thigh. With my left hand I pulled the waistband even lower as I slid my right
hand down into his briefs. I cupped the dudes’ testicles and gently lifted
them out of his underwear and rested them on top of the waistband. This had
the effect of pushing his balls slightly upwards. His nuts had been crammed in
his underwear all day and were warm to the touch and damp with sweat. And God
they smelt wonderfully of man stink and piss. His nuts smelt the way a guy’s
locker room does after a long hard game.
Dave and I stood back briefly to admire the view as I took a few quick pics
with my cell phone. I couldn’t believe how hot and vulnerable the dude looked,
unconscious in the dentist chair with his pants undone and his dick and balls
hanging out for the entire world to see. Our ultimate castration fantasy was
coming true – wow!
By this point Dave had already extracted two of Brad’s wisdom teeth so it was
my turn to do some extracting. I placed a couple of sheets of paper towel
under his balls. I didn’t want any stray bloodstains on his underwear. Then I
moved in close to examine Brad’s scrotum intimately. His loose, wrinkled ball
sac wasn’t too hairy and seemed to have a lot of extra flexibility in the
skin; this would make my job easier. When I had castrated the two cadavers, I
had made a cut down the centerline of the scrotum and pulled the testicles out
from the front. My thinking was that the scar would not be noticeable on the
centerline. However after thoroughly examining Brad’s balls I decided to make
two smaller incisions, one on each side of his sack. The numerous wrinkled
folds of his scrotum would easily hide the two small scars.
I decided to remove his smaller left testicle first. I rolled my chair around
to Brad’s left side to get at his nut more easily. I picked up a scalpel and
moved towards Brad’s exposed, helpless balls. I paused to catch my breath when
the point of the scalpel was just an inch away from his scrotum. Dave too;
paused to watch. This was it, the point of no return. Up until now we could
still zip up Brad and he would be none the wiser. Once I moved the scalpel
forward there would be no going back.
I took a deep breath, made my decision, and then firmly pushed the razor sharp
steel into the tender, delicate flesh of the dudes scrotum. I shoved the point
of the blade in just above Brad Summers left testicle. I could hear Dave gasp.
Once the skin was broken it was a simple matter to pull the blade downwards
till I had opened up a ˝ inch gash in the left side of his nut sac. I could
feel the tip of the blade scraping against the testicle underneath. Putting
the scalpel down I used my fingertips to position the narrowest end of his
testicle directly below the gash. Pushing gently from below I was surprised at
how easily the dude’s nut slid up through the gash and popped out of his
scrotum.
“Oh wow, oh wow, that is so fucking hot, I just creamed my pants” said Dave
shuddering
By this point my pants were so sticky with pre cum I wouldn’t be able to tell
if I came or not. I tugged gently on the warm, grey slimy nut until I had
pulled out about an inch of cord and rested the ball on the paper towel. I
clasped a strong surgical clamp on the spermatic cords to cut off the blood
flow and moved over to Brad’s right side.
For some reason his right testicle was harder to extract. After inserting the
blade I had to lengthen the gash twice until it was almost an inch long before
I could work his big nut out of the scrotum. I quickly clamped the spermatic
chords off and headed back to his left side. It was now time to finish off the
dudes nuts and end his breeding days forever. I picked up the surgical
scissors and with three firm strokes I severed the spermatic chords and Brad
Summers left nut rolled free on the paper towel – wow!
My dick twitched violently as I suddenly shot my wad. There was no doubt about
coming that time.
By this time Dave had removed Brad’s third wisdom tooth.
I moved back over to his right side and picked up the scissors again.
“This one’s mine” insisted Dave
I reluctantly handed Dave the scissors and watched as he gleefully snipped off
Brad’s last testicle. Wow we had finally done it – we had fucking castrated a
dude, and one hell of a hot one at that. I couldn’t believe it.
The dudes’ scrotum now looked like a wrinkled hairy deflated balloon. I
quickly took a few more snapshots with my cell phone then I picked up Brad’s
two severed testicles and dropped them, still warm, into the specimen jar. I
screwed the lid shut and placed the jar in my doctors’ bag.
As Dave worked on Brads’ last tooth I cauterized the ends of his spermatic
chords and released the clamps. I watched as the chords slithered slowly back
up into his body. It was now just a simple matter of popping in the two
silicon testicles, after comparing them to the real ones I decided to use a
medium one on the left side and a large one on the right. I used surgical glue
to seal up the two incisions and voila, it was done. The dude was now a
eunuch. As far as I could tell his nut sack looked exactly the same as before.
I used the paper towel to wipe the sweat off his scrotum and then gently
tucked his ball sac back into his briefs just as Dave finished extracting his
last wisdom tooth.
10 minutes later a very groggy Brad Summers gradually woke up. Dave had him
sit up slowly as he got him a glass of water. Brad tried to stand up a little
too soon and he suddenly staggered into the table where I had placed the
doctors’ bag. I hadn’t yet zipped up the bag and I watched in horror as it
fell sideways onto the floor. The jar containing Brads’ severed nuts rolled
out and hit him in the foot.
“Oh sorry guys” he said as he reached down to pick it up. He was still quite
groggy and Dave held him back as I lunged forward and beat him to the jar. I
quickly shoved it back into the bag and got it out of harms’ way. I nearly had
a heart attack on the spot. Brad was still half asleep and did not seem to
notice anything - whew.
15 minutes later we escorted Brad safely into a cab. The drive home was quite
uncomfortable. My knob was glued to the inside of my cum-soaked shorts.
That night we had the hottest sex of our lives. We took turns sucking and
licking the dudes severed testicles. We each managed to cum three more times
that night. To this day we still have Brad’s nuts in our freezer.
A month later I went to meet Dave after work. Just as I was entering his
office I bumped into a really hot guy on the way out. “Oh sorry man” he said
as we brushed past each other. He looked about 25, had ear length blond hair
and piercing blue eyes. He was wearing a casual blue shirt and jeans.
“Wow who was that gorgeous guy?” I breathlessly asked Dave
“Oh, Jeff Peterson, new patient of mine” Dave replied and then he added with a
wicked grin “Oh and he hasn’t had his wisdom teeth out – yet!”
Comments to author may be emailed to mikaelmand@hotmail.com
* * * |
What's for Dinner? | GAY, PENECTOMY | Larry is under a time pressure to fulfill an order issued by his Mistress/Wife. To fail could be his unmanning. | ` What's for Dinner? `
By Allen Baker
Larry glanced once more at the clock. Time was running out. He had to hurry
this up and get home before his wife, or there would be hell to pay.
Again he nibbled on Allen's ear and urged him toward the bed. Then he took a
deep breath and forced a dominate tone into his voice. "Strip, boy. Do it
now."
Allen hesitated only for a second before a sly grin covered his face and he
began to obey. The tank top flew to the chair by the door followed by the
running shorts. That's all it took for him to be nude.
Larry, slapped him across the rump and motioned him onto the bed. "You have
restraints,boy?"
"There are ropes in that drawer, Sir." Allen stuttered with excitement, and
his hand trembled as he pointed across the room. His eyes followed Larry, and
his chest began to expand deeper as the man returned with handfuls of coiled
cord.
Larry looped the end of one strand about Allen's right wrist and hauled it
toward the corner of the headboard. It didn't take long to tie it off and move
across to the other one. Then he lit the candle on the night stand and reached
over to hold it above Allen's heaving chest. The first splash of hot wax on
his right nipple caused Allen to squirm and yelp with surprise and excitement.
Soon both tits were covered with bright red wax and Allen's cock stood hard
and proud from the stimulus.
Larry tied off the two ankles to spread eagle his prey. Then his gagged Allen
with his tank top. Allen's eyes widened with excitement. Still fully clothed,
Larry hopped into the center of the bed between the boy's legs, his own
breathing beginning to quicken as he approached his goal. Slowly he licked up
the inside of the thighs on his final oral approach. Allen moaned his
pleasure. Larry began to tremble with anticipation. Soon his tongue touched
the base of his partner's rigid dick. Both men shuttered with excitement.
Larry moved to the tip and opened his mouth. He forced himself not to rush,
not to hurry the experience. He nibbled his way down the tube until his
nostrils filled with crotch hair. Allen sighed as the warm moisture enveloped
him.
They had met earlier in the day in an S&M; chatroom. It had taken far too long
for Larry to find a bondage bottom within easy driving distance and so now
needed to end the session sooner than he wished to get home on time. So he
didn't hesitate longer. Slowly he began to apply jaw pressure to the base of
the masochist's dick. At first Allen moaned into the gag in pleasure. But as
the pressure increased, he began to cry out more. His abused cock just got
harder. Larry's hand gathered in the crinkled pouch under his chin and closed
his fist against the balls inside. The crushing made Allen's head slap back
and forth against the pillow in a mixture of agony and bliss.
Larry ground his teeth tighter into the flesh and broke skin. The tang of
blood made his tongue tingle and his own crotch erect. He bit harder, deeper.
Now Allen began to scream in earnest, thinking this was beginning to reach is
pain limits, but was none the less getting him off. His most intense cock
torture session yet, just as Larry had promised on line. Larry sawed his teeth
back and forth and back and forth, forcing his teeth deeper and deeper into
the muscle of the cock. The tissues were tough and it took all of his jaw
strength to make headway. But soon, his teeth were nearly meeting, and Allen
was beyond his endurance.
Allen suddenly knew that his cock was beyond survival. His fantasy of being
unmanned was becoming a reality that he suddenly didn't want. He became
hysterical and shouted into the gag, thrashing against the ropes that
prevented him from pulling the torturous head away. His throat was becoming
tight and hoarse with his screams. And still the pain got worse.
Larry worried his teeth back and forth, deeper and deeper into the shaft of
his victim. He squeezed the nuts tighter and tighter. Suddenly, his mouth was
flooded with spurts of mingle man juice and blood as the body under him jerked
in terrible orgasm. Then his teeth met and the severed dick came free in his
mouth. Larry's own crotch flooded with semen inside his skivies without ever
having been touched. Hopping from the bed, Larry pulled a ziplock bag from his
jeans and spit the seven-inch prize into it. On the mattress, Allen stopped
screaming as his mind reeled with the jolt of seeing his own cock in the man's
hand. He went into shock even as his severely damaged crotch continued to pump
blood onto his bed.
Quickly, Larry placed the candle under the rope attaching the boy's right
wrist to the bed. He only stayed long enough to be sure the rope was beginning
to burn. Allen would be free to call 911 not long after he'd made his escape.
He put his car into drive and saw on the dashboard clock that he had just
enough time to get home and complete getting dinner ready before his mistress-
wife got home. Sweat poured down his face. This was cutting it far too close.
Mistress had issued her orders just before leaving for work. He shuttered to
think of the consequences had he not been able to comply. He floored the
accelerator as her words echoed in his memory.
"For dinner tonight, I want fillet of man meat. I don't care how or where you
get it, just so you do, boy. Because if it isn't someone else's, it'll be
yours!"
* * * |
Frankie's Metamorphosis (Part 4) | BI, TESTICLES, MINOR, Femcirc mentioned briefly | Paquita (Frankie)learns to adjust to life as a eunuch his step-sister Teresa joins him in a new adventure. | Part 4
It was late afternoon when I finally awoke. I had slept through my first night
and most of my first day as a eunuch. The late afternoon sun shined into the
bedroom. This was a different room than I had been in before. I soon became
aware that I was lying in bed nude, except for large bandage over my pubic
region. Surprisingly, there was little pain in my groin area after the trauma
of my castration last night.
Sitting in a chair to my left was Spora. I was slightly bleary eyed as I
looked around. But Spora and I were alone. He noticed that I was awake, so he
asked: “How are you feeling? Carla packed some special herbs in the bandage
over your scrotum. The herbs will make you heal very fast.”
I blinked my eyes and replied with a question: “Where is Raf?”
“Raf is at the temple for 10 days of purification. You won’t see him until the
day your wedding,” replied Spora.
“I’m feeling Ok I guess,” I said in answer to his first question.
“Carla and I spent the night here watching over you. She left late this
morning as she had several patients to see at her clinic. But she said you
were doing very well, and she should be back shortly to look in on you,” Spora
explained. He was about to say something else when Carla entered the room with
her black medical bag.
“How are you feeling, my little hermana?” she asked.
“I’m Ok,” I replied.
Carla was dressed in her medical outfit, white lab coat and white slacks. She
quickly felt my forehead, checked my pulse, and heartbeat. Then she removed
the bandage from my pubic area. “You are healing up very fast, Hermana. I used
a special blend of herbs on your scrotum,” she said as she motioned to Spora
to bring over a large mirror. She held the mirror so that I could see the
result of the surgery. “See, how nice you are healing,” she said.
Unlike most castrations, my scrotum was not swollen. The incisions that she
made were completely healed, and except for a slight soreness when she touched
my empty sac, there was hardly any pain. Carla then explained that I would
probably feel a burst of energy for the next month or two, as this was the
result of the healing herbs. But after the herbal effect wears off I wouldn’t
have the energy that I used to have and that I would tire easily. But not to
worry about it as this was natural for all eunuchs. Then she gave me an herbal
tea to help me sleep. Then she looked at Spora and said: “You’ve gone almost
two days without sleep, please go downstairs and get some rest. I will stay
with Paquita until Rosa comes.”
After Spora said good night and left to get some sleep, Carla turned to me and
said: “You haven’t met Rosa yet. But she will stay with you for the rest of
the night, as it is important that someone always be with you for the first 48
hours of your new life. Rosa is a very fine woman and she is Raf’s female
mother. You will like her.”
Carla got up from beside me and went over to the window, where a small
bookcase was located. She pulled an old leather bound book from the shelf and
sat down in the chair next to my bed. “I want to read to you from our holy
book so that you will know and understand all that has happened to you,” she
said as she opened the book and found the page from which she started to read.
Carla showed me the book and it was written in a language that I didn’t
understand, so I was dependent on her translation. She began by telling me
their story of creation, how the god Zunus and the goddess Luna created the
earth and all that is in it. They created two men and two women and from them
came the human race. After many generations there came a man named Tarr. Tarr
was faithful to the goddess Luna and as a result he was blessed with many
possessions. He was also blessed with two handsome sons. The first son,
Meleck, was also devoted to the goddess, but Adama, the second son was
rebellious. Tarr also had two daughters, Nera and Lina. The goddess told Tarr
to keep his family together and not let his sons marry foreign women. Meleck,
obeyed his father and the goddess and married Nera. But Adama chose a foreign
woman and left his father’s house to seek his fortune elsewhere. Meleck
prospered and he and Nera became very wealthy. Adama also prospered, but then
bandits attacked his house, killed him and his sons and took his four
daughters away as slaves. When Meleck heard of his brother’s misfortune he
gathered 300 of his best men and raided the bandit camp. But he was only able
to rescue one of his brother’s daughters. The rest had been sold into slavery
to a land far to the west.
Carla saw that the story perked my interest, so she asked: “Do you have any
questions, or should I continue?”
“Yes, I want to hear more,” I replied.
Carla turned the page and read: “Meleck took Rebah, his brother’s daughter to
his home and gave her to Nera, his wife, as a servant. Meleck continued to
prosper and Nera became pregnant and bore him a son. Nera named him Reu as the
birth was difficult and she was getting old. When Reu was two years old, Nera
became concerned that he didn’t have a brother as a companion. Not being able
to bear another child, Nera gave Rebah to her husband so that she might
conceive for her a son. Meleck slept with Rebah and she became pregnant. She
too gave birth to a son, and Meleck named him Daoud, which means second son.
“Reu and Daoud grew together, and Meleck came to have great love for his
second son. But Nera became concerned that Rebah and her son would supplant
her in the eyes of her husband. So she voiced her concerns to the goddess. The
goddess heard Nera’s supplication and came to her and said: ‘Do not fear for
the slave woman and her son will never supplant you and your son. When the
slave woman’s son reaches his fourteenth year you must give him a potion to
make his sleep. You must build an altar of stone. Then you must bind him to
the altar. When he awakes you must castrate him and present his seeds to me as
an offering. Then you must mark the slave woman and circumcise her. Then your
husband and son will be bound to you forever. When the time comes I will give
you more instructions. Only then should you act.’
“But the goddess Luna became concerned for the life of Daoud, for the goddess
feared that in her jealousy Nera may take the boy’s life. So the goddess
caused Reu to have great love and desire for Daoud. So Reu became very
troubled, as he knew not what to do. So when he was alone in the field the
goddess came to him. ‘What troubles my son?’ she asked. ‘I love and desire the
son of my mother’s servant and want to know him as a man knows a woman,” he
answered. So the goddess caused a spell to come over Daoud and Reu was able to
lay with him and know him as a man knows a woman.
“So Nera waited until her slave woman’s son reached his fourteenth year. After
celebrating his second son’s special day, Meleck journeyed to the land of Buz,
where he remained for one-year conducting business. On the morning of the
first full moon after the beginning of Daoud’s fourteenth year, the Goddess
Luna appeared to Nera as a star in the morning sky and gave her the
instructions that she had promised. So Nera made the altar of stones and
prepared the potion and gave it to Daoud to drink. He quickly fell into a deep
sleep. Then Nera asked Reu to help her with his brother to bind him to the
altar. Once Daoud was bound, Reu begged his mother not to slay his brother.
Nera said: ‘I will not harm the boy, I will only take from him what the
goddess requested.’ So Nera took a razor and shaved Daoud’s head. Then when
Daoud awoke, she cut him and removed his seeds. She placed them on the new
altar that she had made and fire came down from heaven and consumed the gift.
The goddess was pleased and she blessed Nera and Reu. Then the goddess said to
Daoud: ‘When you were born, you were without hair and your mother suffered
great pain. Now you are born into a new life without hair but with great pain.
Now your name will be Mara, which means submissive woman, for you can no
longer be called male. You will never know a woman, but men will lay with you
as they would a woman. This will be your life forever.’ Then the goddess gave
Mara to Reu as a wife, and Mara came to be like a woman.
“Then Nera had her men servants bind Rebah and strip her naked and place her
on the altar. Nera took a razor and shaved Rebah’s head. Then remembering the
goddess’ instructions, Nera took an iron, heated it and burned her mark on
Rebah’s belly. Nera had another heated iron and used it to brand her mark on
Rebah’s buttocks. Then Nera said: ‘Now you are marked forever as my slave. Now
all will know who owns you.’ Then Nera took a knife and circumcised Rebah, and
placed the flesh that she had cut from her slave woman on the altar and the
goddess appeared and sent fire to consume the offering. Then the goddess
touched Rebah on her thigh and said: ‘You are branded forever a slave. Your
name will no longer be Rebah, but Tersa, which means harlot for your mistress
will sell your favors to foreigners. Many men will know you, but you will
receive no pleasure from it. You will conceive many sons and daughters, but
all will be slaves. You will conceive in pain and give birth in pain. You will
be the lowliest of slaves.” With that the goddess left.”
Carla put the book down and gave me a serious look and said: “So now you see
why you were brought here and why what happened had to be.”
I nodded that I understood and Carla kissed me on the lips. Carla started to
tell me about eunuch life when Rosa entered the room. Rosa was dark skinned
like Carla, with long black hair. She had large brown eyes and stood about 5’
3” in her bare feet, however, she was wearing yellow platform shoes similar to
mine, which made her stand another 4 inches higher. She had large breasts with
dark nipples, the outlines of which could be seen through the sheer yellow
gown that she wore. Her face was slightly round and she had an interesting
brand mark on her forehead. She said something to Carla, which I wasn’t able
to make out.
Since I had never been introduced to Rosa, Carla said to me: “This is Rosa,
Paquita. She bore Raf, so she is a part of our family, like you are now.”
Then Carla kissed me on the lips, said something else to Rosa that I couldn’t
understand. Then Carla left the room and Rosa sat down in her place.
“Carla has gone almost 36 hours without sleep,” Rosa explained. “But you also
need sleep. You must be in good health for your wedding.”
“Carla was telling me the story of her people. It was quite interesting,” I
said.
“Yes they are an interesting people,” she said.
“I love Raf your son,” I said.
“Raf isn’t my son. I merely bore him for Rafael. According to their religion
Spora is Raf’s mother. Spora is now your mother too according to their law.
Once you and Raf are married, you will become the mother of his son, Rafael;
even though Raquel bore him,” Rosa replied.
“Where is Rafael and Raquel,” I asked as Rosa noticed my looking at the brand
on her forehead.
“You will meet them after the wedding. When the goddess feels the time is
right. Now they stay at the temple with the High Priestess,” she explained.
Then Rosa continued, “I see that you noticed the brand on my forehead.”
“Yes, what does it mean?” I asked.
“It was given to me in a temple ceremony after I gave birth to Raf. I was 15
when I had him. I nursed him for two years. Then when I was 19 I was taken to
the temple for the ceremony,” she answered.
“That must have hurt,” I said.
“That wasn’t all that they did to me during the ceremony. While Rafael Spora,
and the temple membership watched, two of the temple guards tied me down on
the altar. Then Rafael’s sister, Carla branded my belly and my left ass cheek,
which marked me as her slave.
“Carla was Rafael’s sister, and as the senior female member of the family at
the time, I became her slave. Carla was a very strict woman. She died three
years ago and Raf’s sister Carla inherited her position. But she is a much
kinder woman than her aunt.
“While I was tied to the altar, Carla took a knife circumcised me. Then she
gave my clit to the High Priestess who tossed it into the fire as a gift
offering to the goddess. Just like your castration. But they weren’t through
with me yet. Next the High Priestess took another branding iron and branded
the letters B and T on my forehead.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“It stands for ‘Binti Tersa.’ This means daughter of the whore. You know the
story of Nera and Tersa?” she asked.
“Yes I know the story,” I replied.
“Then you should also know that you can never leave here. Like me you are
doomed to spend the rest of your life here,” she said.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“They will never let you leave this place. Escape is impossible. The roads are
patrolled and you wouldn’t last five minutes in the jungle. Also, like me, you
have to wear the special shoes in order to walk. How far do you think you will
get?” she asked rhetorically. “I’m sleepy,” she announced as she dropped her
gown and stood nude before me revealing a dark but softer body than Carla’s.
But like Carla she had only a thin line of pubic hair. It would have been very
stimulating had I not been castrated only 24 hours ago.
“You can fuck me if you want,” she said as she got in bed with me. “But
Carla’s aunt saw to it that I have no feeling down there.”
“If it weren’t for my castration I would love to, Rosa, but maybe when I get
all healed up,” I replied as I held her close to me and felt the warmth and
softness of her body.
With that I drifted off for a long sleep. But the next six days went by
quickly and soon it was my wedding day. Spora presented me with a pink gown,
which all eunuchs are required to wear, and helped make my face up to look
beautiful for Raf. Carla came up to my room an hour later with a nice black
haired wig for me to wear, as it would take several months for me to even grow
a few inches of my own hair. Carla wore a gown similar to mine, only hers was
white. For temple services all real men and women wore white gowns.
Soon it was time to leave for the temple ceremony. Carla, Spora, and I got
into the car to leave, but before the driver, who was one of the temple
guards, started the engine, Carla put a black leather hood over Spora’s head.
Then she put the same kind of hood on me so that I wouldn’t be able to see the
way to their secret temple.
It took about an hour of driving before we stopped at the temple entrance.
Still hooded, Carla led Spora and me into the temple. We were ushered into a
large room and then our hoods were removed. It was the same room in which I
had been castrated. Raf, his father, and the High Priest were waiting for us
by the statue of the goddess Luna. They were all dressed in white gowns like
Carla’s. I quickly took my place on Raf’s left. Carla was like my bridesmaid
and she stood at my left. Spora stood to Carla’s left. Then the High Priest
began the ceremony in a language that I didn’t understand. Carla translated
for me as best she could. In the middle of the ceremony Carla told me to turn
and face Raf, which I did. Then she dropped my gown so that I was naked before
everyone. Raf was facing me as he dropped his gown. Then the High Priest took
Raf’s and my dicks in his hands. He pulled Raf’s foreskin back to reveal his
beautiful cock head. Then the High Priest put my circumcised dick so that Raf
and my penis heads touched. Next he pulled Raf’s foreskin so that it covered
my cut dick head. Then the High Priest said a blessing. Carla explained that
Raf’s foreskin covering my dick head was a symbol of my subjection to him and
a bonding of my body to him forever. At the end of the ceremony were the vows,
which were in their holy language, and of course I didn’t understand. But
Carla told me to say “wolo” every time the High Priest asked me a question.
This meant that I agreed to do what ever he said. Carla explained that I
promised to obey Raf in everything and that I recognized him as my husband and
master.
At the close of the ceremony I was given a symbolic slave ring to wear and
then Raf kissed me passionately on the lips. Then Carla helped me put my gown
back on and Raf put his on by himself. After the ceremony was over Raf put the
hood back on my head and then he, his father, Carla, and Spora drove home
together.
After the wedding feast, Raf and I retired to our bedroom. He quickly took my
gown off and laid me on the bed. He slipped a rubber on my dick and then he
had me lay on my tummy. Then he slipped four pillows under me so that he could
take me doggy style. I was comfortable resting on the pillows. My asshole was
quivering knowing the pleasure it was about to enjoy. He gently lubed my ass
and then his hard cock. Slowly he worked his cock up my willing eunuch pussy.
My rectum easily opened up to receive his manhood. It had been a month without
for both of us so it wasn’t long before I felt him painting my insides with
his seed. At the same time I filled the rubber with what was left of my
fertile semen. When Raf got up to go to the bathroom to wash himself off, he
gently removed the rubber from my soft dick, making sure that none of my seed
was lost. “Carla needs this,” he said, as he tied the opening so that none
could escape. Then he went to the bathroom to clean up. When he returned he
put on his robe, took the rubber and went down stairs. He returned a few
minutes later and said: “Carla was pleased with your semen sample.”
At the time I didn’t think to ask what she wanted it for. But Raf held me
tightly and we soon drifted off to sleep.
A week after our wedding, Raf and I were invited to the temple for a special
ceremony. Since Raf had a son and had also taken me as his wife, he now met
all the requirements to be granted shaman apprentice status in the temple. In
the temple hierarchy there was the High Priest, the 12 guards, 7 shaman, and 7
shaman apprentices. Raf would become apprentice to his father.
The evening of the apprentice ceremony I was dressed in my usual pink gown,
which all eunuchs married to shamans and apprentices, must wear. Of course
eunuchs can never be temple members, but as the wife a member I can attend on
certain occasions. Since the temple’s location is a secret that only members
know, I was fitted with a black leather hood to prevent me from seeing
anything on the way.
His father drove Raf and me to the temple. Once we were inside Raf removed the
hood. Raf and his father were greeted by the High Priest, while me and six
others, also dressed in pink gowns, were ushered into one of the side rooms.
All of us were eunuchs, and with the exception of one other and myself, were
in their late twenties or early thirties. The young eunuch was named Juanita
and was 15. Juanita had been castrated last year, and like me was adjusting to
a new life.
Juanita and I sat by ourselves away from the others so that we could talk. It
was then that I noticed that he had a brand on his forehead, similar to the
one Rosa had, but different letters. He noticed that I was curious about the
brand on his forehead, so he explained that the letters D and M stood for
“Dada Mora,” which means Sister of Mora. Mora means like a submissive woman.
“What is it like, being a eunuch?” I asked.
He looked at me, smiled and said: “It is something that you will adjust to.
Since you were cut only a month ago, you are still new to the life.”
“What will happen to me?” I asked.
“The first month or so you won’t notice much. But after two or three months
you will start to notice that you don’t have the energy that you had before.
Some find that they can’t get an erection after only a few months. For me I
didn’t have any problems until six months after I was cut. It’s been a year
now and, though I can still get an erection, its not as hard as before, and it
doesn’t last as long,” he replied.
Before Juanita could say more, the 12 guards entered the room. We all bowed
before them. Then two of them came over to me and each grabbed one of my arms
and escorted me into another temple room. The room was bare except for stone
benches around the walls and a stone table in the center. The two guards
stripped me and bent me over the table and tied me down on the table so that
my ankles were secured to rings on the floor. The cold stone on my tummy gave
me goose bumps. My wrists were secured to chains that were attached to another
set of rings on the floor.
After they had secured me, the other 10 guards entered the room. As I learned
later, the senior guard approached me from behind and spread my ass cheeks
apart. He fingered my ass hole and then I felt a gob of warm spit plop on my
hole. He gently massaged his spit so that it lubricated my ass. Next he slowly
worked his cock up my butt. He felt like he was the same size as Raf, so I
took him quite easily. It felt nice, but after pumping me briefly, he shot a
huge wad of cum, filling my rectum. He quickly pulled his still hard cock out
of my ass to make way for the next guard who was much thicker and longer than
the first. Fortunately the first guard had loosened me up some, but this new
guy was really big and it felt like my ass hole was splitting as he pumped his
mammoth organ deep inside me. It didn’t take long before I felt his seed
painting my insides. However, the pressure that his cock applied to my
prostate caused me to shoot a little cum. The other 10 guards were slightly
smaller than the second guy, but after they had all finished with me, my ass
hole was full of their seed, sore, and stretched. My ass hole gaped open and
kind of smiled when the last guy shot his load and pulled his cock out. Then
the first guard returned with a thick butt plug attached to a belt. He stuck
the plug in my butt and buckled the belt around my waste. This way their seed
would stay inside me and be absorbed into my system.
The guards left the room and six of the shaman entered. Raf’s father was not
among them. Three of them approached me. Two of them held my head and forced
my mouth open to receive the cock of the third shaman. I sucked his cock and
massaged the head with my tongue. He moaned briefly and then filled my mouth
with his cum. The other two massaged my throat to make me swallow his load.
The other five fucked my mouth and made me swallow their cum too. Then six of
the apprentices entered the room as the shaman left. All six apprentices
fucked my mouth so that my tummy was now full of cum. After they had satisfied
themselves I was left alone for what seemed like an hour. Then the eunuchs
entered the room and released me from the bonds that held me down on the fuck
table. Juanita returned my gown and helped me dress. Then Rafael came in with
the black leather hood, which I was required to wear. I asked where Raf was
and Rafael said he was required to stay at the temple for 10 days of
purification.
The six shaman apprentices also came in with black leather hoods for their
eunuchs. Rafael secured the hood on my head so I wasn’t able to see anything
more, but it felt like all of us eunuchs were being led out of the temple at
the same time. Rafael helped me into the car and then we drove home.
When we got home Rafael removed my hood and Carla was there to greet us. She
had a pleasant surprise for me she said. Then she said: “In three weeks Donna
and your sister Teresa will be here.”
I was so happy to be able to see someone from home, that I choked up and
couldn’t say anything. Then she told me the bad news: “Once Raf finishes the
purification ceremony at the temple he and Jose will leave here and go to
Donna’s farm. They will be away for six months.”
I didn’t like being told good and bad news at the same time, but it was
something I would have to adjust to, as Raf’s duties for the temple and his
religion would often take him away from me for long periods of time.
Carla and Spora helped me up to my room and undressed me. Carla told Spora to
go down stairs and fetch the special tea that she had brewed for me. Then she
had me lay on the bed on my tummy so she could examine my rectum. She took the
butt plug out briefly and worked a small bundle of herbs up my ass. “This will
help your rectum to absorb the guard’s seed.”
When Spora returned with a cup of special tea, Carla gave it to me and said:
“Drink all of it and drink is slowly. It will help your stomach digest the
seed better, and also make you sleep. You had a busy night.”
The tea was sweet and tasted a little like nutmeg. It also made me sleepy and
I quickly fell asleep while Carla and Spora were still in the room.
Three weeks later Donna and Teresa arrived accompanied by Chico. Donna stayed
in the room above Carla’s office in the town. But Teresa was brought to
Rafael’s hacienda and given a room on the same floor as Raf’s and my room.
After she got settled in I knocked on Teresa’s door to see how she was. This
was the first time we had been alone together since last January. Teresa was
five months pregnant and showing. But we were both happy to see each other and
we hugged and kissed. Carla had all Teresa’s clothes taken away and gave her a
yellow gown similar to the pink gown that I was required to wear. I also
noticed that she was wearing yellow platform shoes similar to the ones that I
must wear. “When did you start wearing those?” I asked pointing to her feet.
“Since the first day that I had to move in with aunt Donna. Back in February,
when my father found out I was pregnant, he kicked me out and sent me to live
with her. The first pair had four-inch heels and they were locked on me feet.
I had to wear them all the time. They messed up my legs so much that now it’s
painful to walk with out them,” she replied
.
“But I see that you have to wear them too,” she said noticing the high heels
on my feet.
“Yes, I have to wear them too. They said it was to prevent me from escaping.
But why did you come here, Teresa? Don’t you know that you can never leave?” I
explained.
“Yes, I knew. When I asked Donna if I could come down and see you, she said I
could, but that once here I could never leave,” she said. Then after a brief
pause she wrapped her arms around me and said: “I came because I wanted to be
with you. Of all the people in the world you were the only one who really
loved me. You took all the blame and hurt just for me. Nobody else ever did
that for me. I love you Frankie and I want to be with you always.”
I held her tight and kissed her forehead.
“Donna told me that they cut your balls off,” she said. “I’m so sorry for all
the trouble I got us into.”
I told her the 24 hours we spent together having passionate sex was worth it
all.
Then she asked: “Can you still get it up?”
“Yes,” I replied. “They say I will probably be able to get hard for the next
few months at least.”
“Great,” she said. “Then let’s do it right now then.”
“But you’re pregnant,” I replied, looking at her swollen belly.
“We can have sex up to the last month of my pregnancy,” she answered as she
dropped her gown and stood there naked in front of me.
I laid her down on the bed and passionately kissed her on the lips. Then I
sucked on her now larger breasts. She moaned as I teased her nipples with my
tongue. But soon my tongue was parting her pussy lips and her thick bush of
pubic hair. I sucked on her clit and massaged it with my tongue. It was so
nice to taste her juices once more. I gently mounted her and worked my dick
into her moist pussy. I tried hard to balance myself so I didn’t put too much
pressure on her belly. Since my baby makers had been removed, there was no way
I could replace the little one growing inside her, so I made sure I was very
careful.
She seemed to come quickly this time. But it took me longer to shoot a small
load of thin cum into her throbbing pussy. When my dick got soft I pulled out
of her and lay by her side. Soon she was asleep in my arms. But as we lay
there, I wondered about the future. After Carla read to me from their holy
book, I knew that there was more in store for Teresa and I. Sometime after she
gives birth, she too would be placed on the altar in the temple, just as I
was. She too would have to make a sacrifice to the goddess.
To Be Continued.
* * * |
The Team | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES | There\'s no \'I\' in team. | I’m a middle manager in a small company that specializes in research, and I
head up a team of designers. Most people consider me to be okay; I’m loyal and
generous towards my friends and charitable and open-minded towards strangers
and minorities. I’m tolerant of fools, although I don’t make a habit of
socializing with them. I don’t have a drinking or dependency problem and I
work hard to support my family. I go to church a couple of times a year and
don’t cheat on my wife at all and only a little on my taxes. Of course most
people haven’t seen my other side.
I’m not really very smart and I don’t have a lot of money. I love my wife but
she’s no movie idol or Playboy model, and anyone who’s ever seen me pants down
will tell you that I’m sure as hell not hung like a porn star. I don’t mind
people who are wealthy, smart, have gorgeous wives, or are rigged like donkeys
but I absolutely won’t tolerate them using those attributes to belittle me.
“My wife’s probably the most beautiful woman in town,” Mike might say.
“You’re absolutely right,” I respond. “You’re a lucky man to have her.” Banter
such as that is fine and doesn’t offend me in the least, but if he would
happen to say something in reference to my wife like, ‘Christ! I couldn’t fuck
her if we were both wearing paper bags over our heads’, then he’d better watch
out. A few days later his once beautiful wife might suffer an accident that
will leave her face in a condition to scare little kids and dogs.
Same thing goes with wealth. A guy that opines that I’m poor white trash and
worthless as tits on a boar will find himself the victim of an incredibly
diabolical con that will cost him most of his fortune, and the guy that calls
me “Stubby” or “Baby Balls” will likely be talking in a higher octave before
too long. Almost a dozen people have seen this dark side of me and none can
ever forget it. Ray was the most recent.
I had been working at the firm for ten years when Ray hired on as a part of my
team. He was sharp enough but he acted like the job was way below his stature
and ability. “I’ll stick it out for a while,” he told me and everyone else who
would listen. “I’ll probably make manager in a year.” I doubted it; it took me
six years, and I was over my head for the first year after my promotion.
“You ever do these things?” He asked me one day, handing me a Sudoko puzzle
from the newspaper. It was a level five and had been neatly completed. In ink.
“Not on company time,” I replied, hoping he’d take the hint without my having
to lean on him. Actually, I did do them now and then, but I rarely was able to
complete the level four and never the level five puzzles.
“They only take me five minutes,” he said, “and I do them while I’m holding on
the phone.” I could also see that he’d done the Friday crossword. Also in ink.
Without corrections. No doubt the guy was smarter than me. “Anyone with any
education or brains shouldn’t have much trouble with these,” he said casually.
Watch it there buddy, you’re headed where you don’t really want to go, I
thought, and then walked away before I said or did something we both might
regret.
I learned a lot more about Ray during the next few weeks. He brought in a
picture of his wife wearing her Miss Washington sash and another of her in a
tiny bikini. He also casually mentioned that his wife’s family was incredibly
wealthy and that she was the only child and that he really didn’t have to
work, ‘but what kind of self-respecting man would just lay around all day?’
“The real secret to scoring a wife like Jane is to keep her happy,” he
confided to me one day while we were both in the restroom, “and I’m eminently
qualified.” He flushed the urinal and turned briefly towards me as he stuffed
what looked like the radiator hose from a ’57 Chevy back into his pants. He
would have been the school boy who challenged others to see who’s dick was
longest and he would have been the college kid that paraded bare-assed around
the dorm with his towel over his shoulder. Fun and games back then but here
and now he was treading on thin ice.
I couldn’t fault Ray’s abilities; although just out of college he had a
natural sense of what was going on and he meshed nicely into our design team.
The other guys in the office seemed to like him, and although I personally
didn’t care for his arrogant attitude as long as he kept it in check on the
job I could live with it.
My wife dropped in at noon one day and suggested that we do lunch. I had a
divisional meeting after that and didn’t get back to my department until late.
I came in the back door and was immediately stopped by the conversation that I
overheard. “I don’t see how that dumb-ass Carl gets by,” Ray was saying.
“I think he does just fine,” said Howard, another of the design team.
“The only way he gets by is by riding on us,” Ray pressed. “I mean, Christ,
the guy can’t even afford a decent car. Did you see that piece of crap that
dropped him off? Who was that anyway, his mother?”
“That’s his wife,” Howard patiently explained, “and they’ve had some economic
setbacks.”
“Man, what a dog! No wonder he acts like he has a brick up his ass all of the
time.”
“Carol’s a very nice lady,” Mike said, “and if I were you I wouldn’t let it
get back to him that you’ve been badmouthing her.”
“Why? What’s he going to do, beat the shit out of me? Hell, he doesn’t even
have the balls to score a good-looking woman, of course, with that little
pencil that he calls a dick he couldn’t keep one happy anyway.”
First of all I was saddened by what I’d just heard. Our team is supposed to
function as a team, and although there is lots of room for the various
personalities, strengths, weaknesses, and egos of the individuals, the
important thing is that we function as a team for the good of the whole. I had
learned that when I was still in junior high and it amazed me that Ray had
made it clear through college and hadn’t yet figured it out. Secondly, I was
pissed. Personal insults towards managers or co-workers are not acceptable,
and particularly not acceptable when directed at me. I was surprised that Ray
didn’t feel the ice beneath his feet crack apart.
Right then and there I decided that he had to go. His fortune was tied in his
wife’s estate and was relatively safe. There was no use disfiguring his wife;
he’d just dump her and go out and latch onto another. His insult against my
intelligence warranted me slipping him a zombie cocktail that would scramble
his brain and leave him drooling in his Wheaties, but if I did that he
wouldn’t have been able to even realize how fucked he was. There is only one
way to handle an arrogant asshole that is overly proud of his sexual
capabilities.
Ray’s hose looks just impressive as it had when he flashed me in the rest
room, and its two-inch diameter seven-inch length flops limply across his
naked thigh. His balls, by contrast, are rather small, much smaller than mine,
and I can easily fit both within one of my hands. He doesn’t know where he is
or the identity of his tormenter; he is blindfolded and I haven’t spoken a
word out loud. His inherent self-confidence has vanished, and he is pleading
with his unknown assailant as he feels the warmth of the shaving soap as it is
rubbed into his crotch, then the scraping of the razor and the sudden coolness
of the air on newly exposed skin. His mind is probably working overtime when
he feels the shoelace slip tight around his scrotum, then the tug and the
ever-increasing constriction as the rubber tourniquet is stretched around his
scrotum. His protestations, begging and finally his screams reached a
crescendo as I pulled the shoelace tight and severed his genitals. I spared
the cock of which he’s so proud; it’ll soon be useless anyway and I’d just as
soon he retain it as a sad reminder of the way things used to be.
“Welcome to the design department, Sam. Why don’t you tell us a little about
yourself?” I welcomed the newest member of our team.
“Uh, well, I was raised in Garden Grove, graduated Cal State Fullerton, and
that’s about it, I guess,” the new guy said modestly. “I’d really rather talk
about you guys and what we want to accomplish.” I liked this kid. We were
going to get along just fine.
* * * |
The Codicil (3 of 5) | GAY, WARNING, NULLIFICATION, MINOR | <FONT size=2><P align=center>This is the third of five parts of a story of sexual sado-masochism, as rumoured to be practised by some of the new multi-millionaires and billionaires of modern Russia.</P></FONT> | ` **_
аддендум
(THE CODICIL)
___**`
By Pueros
**_
Part три – боль
_
(Three – Pain)
**__
‘If only we could go back to Moscow…..finish with our life here, and go back
to Moscow!’
\- Anton Chekhov
(Basement torture chamber of a large luxurious dacha in a quiet part of the
Russian countryside, conveniently close to St. Petersburg, late 1990s)
After hearing his Master’s intentions, Sergei now wished that he could go back
to Moscow and renew his previous life. Although his recently signed contract
had bound the exceptionally beautiful boy to accept all of the physical and
sexual abuse just mentioned by the man as being imminent, the naked 14 year-
old could not now prevent himself from begging for mercy. "Please, Sir," he
pleaded, whilst his smooth slender cock remained incongruously but resolutely
hard and throbbing and pointing back at his own cute navel, "please be more
gentle with me during our first sessions together!"
The sinisterly leather-hooded and clad Master peered at Sergei’s gorgeous
pleading face, and the only visible parts of the man’s head, namely his dark,
cold eyes, immediately displayed not only clear cruelty but also obvious
contempt. He considered the entreaties of the boy, who was now helplessly
chained in a face-up spreadeagled position on the table besides him, adorned
with his matching slave collar and wrist and ankle cuffs, plus tight silvery
cockring, to be both impertinent and cowardly.
The Master confirmed his attitude when he then proffered some advice, whilst
collecting a cane, which was resting between two hooks on a nearby wall, along
with many similarly displayed alike implements of cruel chastisement. "You
must learn three things quickly for your own welfare, slave brat," the man
suggested.
"First, slave brat," the man advised, on his return to the bottom of the table
and as he aimed a vicious blow from his cane across the uplifted sole of the
spreadeagled Sergei’s chained left foot, "you must learn to call me only
‘Master’!" The adult was rewarded for his effort by a voluminous scream
uttered by the boy’s rosy lips, accompanied by dampness forming in his
sensuous blue eyes, as the 14 year-old experienced pain of a previously
unprecedented kind.
Sergei was subsequently to discover that blows to the tender soles of his feet
were, with the exception of those applied to his balls, the most excruciating
to bear. The boy was also to learn that his Master well knew this anatomical
fact, which was why the very sadistic man often gave these particular areas
special attention during beatings.
"Second, slave brat," Sergei’s Master appraised the now lachrymose boy, whose
left sole felt as if it was on fire, "you must never speak to me without
permission!" The man reinforced his point with another accurate and vicious
hit from his cane onto the exposed underneath of the 14 year-old’s other
chained foot, procuring another loud scream and more tears in the process.
"Third, slave brat," the Master concluded, whilst reverting to a position at
the side of the hurting sobbing Sergei, "you must never beg for leniency or
mercy, as you will not only never receive any from me but also, like now,
suffer worse for such impertinence!" The man then, with a viciousness
equalling that of the blows to the feet, struck the boy’s erection sideways,
from the direction of the 14 year-old’s tearful face.
Sergei’s cock, previously still amazingly erect and pointing towards his
navel, had assumed an angle of about 45° to his slim belly. However, the nasty
excruciating blow encouraged the boy’s hard cock to point momentarily in the
other direction, horizontally downwards towards his agonised splayed feet.
Interestingly, Sergei’s gorgeous naked spreadeagled body visibly
simultaneously spasmed within the tight confines of his chain bondage, and a
spurt of white creamy ejaculate gushed out of his momentarily downwards
pointing cock to fall onto the table between his splayed legs. When the hard
unruly penis subsequently quickly bounced back through about 135° to its
previous position, more cum splashed onto the boy’s belly, chest and face
before the residue began to ooze in a thin string from the head and dribble
more gently onto his stomach. This remaining semen eventually gathered in a
little pool centred on his navel.
The Master looked happily at the copious evidence of unauthorised sexual
climax and commented "It appears, slave brat, that I’ll have to add a fourth
suggestion as to how you can safeguard your own welfare." As the man inflicted
a repeat agonising blow from his cane to Sergei’s amazingly still-hard cock,
he advised "You must learn not to orgasm without permission!"
Whilst Sergei’s pained penis subsequently again quickly traversed another 135°
and back again, the remnants of the extraneous cum, which had still been
present on his cockhead, flew through the air to fall somewhere on the ground
beyond the foot of the table. "I’ll let you lick your mess up from the table,
floor and your own body later," the Master then advised the deeply hurting and
humiliated boy.
When Sergei subsequently glanced down at his amazingly maintained erection, he
could see through his tears that the penile upper surface now sported two
vivid scarlet stripes. The boy suspected correctly that the soles of his feet
bore similar marks.
"I’ll add the rest of the punishment that’s due to you, slave brat, for your
previous incompetent performance of fellatio, later," the Master next
disconcertingly informed. However, Sergei’s mind was suffering too much mental
and physical anguish to pay much notice, especially after the man replaced the
cane in his cruel hands with a small pair of metal tweezers.
"Now I’ll pluck your pubes so that they’re completely smooth!" the Master
announced to Sergei.
(Ground-floor security room of the same large luxurious dacha in a quiet part
of the Russian countryside, conveniently close to St. Petersburg, same time)
The Master’s duty security guard was watching the events happening in the
torture chamber on his closed-circuit television monitor with immense
interest. Doing so as part of his duties, which also included videoing such
occurrences for posterity, was one of the perks of his job. Another perquisite
was currently kneeling at the man’s feet.
Having as ordered unzipped the guard’s fly and extracted the erection from
within the man’s uniform trousers, Yuri, naked apart from the frustrating
transparent chastity devise fixed to his genitals, was busy performing
fellatio.
(Basement torture chamber of the same large luxurious dacha in a quiet part of
the Russian countryside, conveniently close to St. Petersburg, same time)
The Master had to examine Sergei’s pubic area very closely and carefully in
order to locate each of the sparse, almost imperceptible, minuscule fair hairs
present. The man then happily applied his tweezers to pluck away the unwanted
objects.
Sergei, whose previous sobbing had gradually died, with his tears drying,
reacted to each momentarily hurtful tug with a facial grimace and oral grunt.
However, this rather muted reaction to such enforced pubic depilation could
not be maintained after the boy’s Master had completed his task and applied
his specially formulated hair retarding lotion to the 14 year-old’s groin
area.
The resultant stinging sensation was so painfully acute that Sergei again
screamed and began to cry, whilst his previously amazingly still-hard cock
finally withered to flaccidity. The boy naturally gained no sympathy for his
plight from his sadistic Master, who instead commented "You’ll have to become
used to this depilatory solution, slave brat, as it’ll be applied daily by the
doctor to your groin, and anywhere else hair might sprout, such as in your
armpits!"
When the distressing stinging sensation afflicting his groin eventually began
to recede, and Sergei’s tears started to dry again, his sensuous blue eyes
next noticed that the pair of tweezers in his Master’s hands had been replaced
with a much more sinister implement. The man was now holding a long slim
silvery needle, which appeared to be extremely sharp at one end, whilst being
rather blunt at the other.
"Now I’ll pierce your nipples and penis!" the sadistically smiling Master
announced to Sergei.
(Ground-floor security room of the same large luxurious dacha in a quiet part
of the Russian countryside, conveniently close to St. Petersburg, same time)
Yuri could hear the screams emanating from the closed-circuit television
monitor above him. However, as the boy’s eyes were currently focused on the
security guard’s fulsome and rather sweaty pubic hair, whilst his tongue and
mouth licked and sucked the man’s equally hirsute and odorous cock and
scrotum, he could not view the images on the screen.
Nevertheless, having himself been the regular victim of his Master’s sadism,
Yuri correctly guessed that the man would be currently enjoying introducing
one of his new slaveboys to his sadistic world. He also successfully judged
that the erotically exciting scene and his own now expert oral attentions were
bringing the security guard rapidly towards ecstatic climax.
Yuri’s perception was proved correct when the cock present in his mouth began
to pour spurt after spurt of cum down his throat, whilst the ecstatic producer
excitedly held the boy’s head to ensure that every drop was swallowed.
However, the 14 year-old did not actually need such pressure to ensure
adequate completion of his chore without spillage.
Yuri had long since learnt the knack of expert fellatio, fully knowing the
inevitable consequences of incompetence, just as Sergei was now beginning to
do.
(Basement torture chamber of the same large luxurious dacha in a quiet part of
the Russian countryside, conveniently close to St. Petersburg, same time)
The Master now turned to address his guest, the Arab Sheikh, who was still
attired resplendently in relevantly flowing ethnic robes. "This needle," the
host, whilst holding the wicked silvery implement up for inspection, advised
in the lingua franca, English, which he shared with the other man and which
Sergei could also understand, "of course, needs to be completely clean before
use to avoid contagion. I therefore utilise cotton balls soaked in surgical
alcohol to sterilise it and then wear a new mouth mask and rubber gloves
whilst wielding it. After all, we don’t want the slave brat developing an
infection that’ll provide an excuse for him to avoid my later painful
attentions!"
The Master next opened two items of sterile packaging, originally located on a
nearby trolley and from which emerged the aforementioned mouth mask and light
black rubber gloves, which he then proceeded to put on. The effect, on top of
his leather hood and other garb, only increased the man’s sinister appearance
and the already appalled, pained and petrified Sergei’s acute terror of him.
After attaching the mask and gloves, the Master unscrewed the top off a large
bottle of surgical alcohol and opened another sterile packet, from where he
extricated a small ball of cotton, which he subsequently soaked in the fluid.
The man then carefully sterilised his needle before doing the same to the
terrified Sergei’s rosy left nipple, which he also rubbed between his fingers
to encourage the papilla to become more erect.
Still addressing the Arab, whilst subsequently gently resting the extremely
sharp end of the now sterilised needle on Sergei’s chest, immediately adjacent
to the boy’s now literally outstanding left nipple, the Master advised his
guest "Of course, I won’t actually pierce the slave brat’s tit. Male papillae
are generally not large enough and so the required perforation has to be made
through the underlying flesh, or ‘areola’!"
"This action, which I’ll now undertake," the Master continued disturbingly,
"also allows, despite the ringing of his tits, the slave brat’s full papillae
to be available for later clamping and other tortures!" However, despite the
man’s evilly sadistic future plans in respect of Sergei’s nipples, he did
make, prior to beginning his initial piercing, one considerate suggestion to
the horrified boy.
"I recommend you keep still," the Master suggested to Sergei in Russian,
whilst leaning his head just above the boy’s left nipple, "as I pierce and
ring your tits and cock. Otherwise, I can’t guarantee not to inflict permanent
damage, which, if perpetrated in such circumstances, will have been entirely
your own fault!"
Without any further ado, the Master then pushed his needle slowly and
carefully into Sergei, which resulted in the loudest scream yet to emerge from
the agonised boy’s sweet rosy lips. Whilst continuing to oversee the careful
penetration by the implement of the 14 year-old’s left areola, the man also
commented nonchalantly to the Arab "I could, of course, prevent such shrieking
by gagging the slave brat. However, I do so like to hear the noises made by my
young victims!"
Meanwhile, Sergei, despite the tremendous excruciation caused by the needle,
bravely attempted to comply with his Master’s recommendation to remain still
whilst the first painful piercing was completed, and somehow he managed to
achieve the feat. The boy was subsequently rewarded by the sight of the long
needle protruding from the flesh on both sides of his rosy left nipple.
"Excellent!" the Master commented in respect of the proficiency of his work,
as he stood up to admire his craftsmanship. The man next remarked to the Arab
"I’ll leave that in place, whilst I use another sterilised needle to piece the
slave brat’s right areola."
In response, the Arab Sheikh asked a question in English. "How did you learn,"
he enquired, "to perform piercing so well? After all, your main professional
expertise involves oil and gas trading, not ornamenting young slave brats like
this teenage slut!"
"I put," the multi-millionaire Master answered, whilst again bending over
Sergei to begin his next task, with his second needle slowly and painfully but
accurately penetrating the greatly anguished boy’s freshly sterilised right
areola, "some of the vast amounts of money I earn from my lucrative profession
to good use. I have hired highly discreet experts to teach me certain skills,
such as safe, albeit painful, piercing. In fact, I’ve actually taken advice on
the use of all of the implements in this torture chamber for two reasons."
"Firstly," the Master advised, as his second needle continued to advance
slowly into Sergei’s flesh, "I like to take a professional pride in everything
I do, including ornamenting and torturing young slave brats like this.
Secondly, the organisation of which I am a member insists that anyone, who is
in ownership of a boy or girl slut, must adhere strictly to the terms of their
contracts, including, where applicable, no unauthorised permanent damage."
"Non-contracted permanent damage, caused accidentally through ineptitude," the
Master appraised his Arab guest, as the point of his needle began to re-emerge
from Sergei’s flesh, "is considered unacceptable and could lead to a member’s
expulsion. The organisation prides itself on honouring contracts, if only to
encourage future enlistment of young slave brats like this teenage slut."
"I’m content to adhere to the organisation’s policy," the Master informed,
"especially as the most viable alternative to membership, which would still
satisfy my particular tastes, would be to abduct boys, as you propose to do
with young Americans. I dislike the ultimate implication behind such
scenarios, which is that those kidnapped would eventually, after they’ve
served their purpose, need to be killed and their bodies discreetly disposed
of to avoid revealing what had happened to them. Despite my sadism, I’m not
into snuff. Anyway, slave brats like this cost so much because they’re already
prepared to suffer a lot. For example, this particular slut, in addition to
enduring the usual punishments and tortures, including piercings, which are
considered temporary because they can heal completely if allowed, is
permitting such permanent disfigurements as discreet branding and even
circumcision, if it’s my desire to inflict such acts on him. To maximise his
earnings, he’s also agreed in his contract to the Codicil!"
"Will you eventually invoke the Codicil?" the Arab Sheikh asked. However, in
order to keep Sergei, whom the Master knew could understand some English,
guessing, the man simply looked into the boy’s tearful blue eyes, which now
displayed extra fear alongside pain, and smiled before replying "I’ll tell you
later!"
"Naturally," the Master then added, as his fingers finally released the second
needle, "expertise in the likes of piercing or otherwise ornamenting or
torturing young slave brats like this will not necessarily be required by
yourself, as you intend to abduct American boys not contract volunteers for
your purposes. You, of course, can perpetrate any damage that you want on such
teenage Yankee sluts in your isolated desert hideaway in Saudi Arabia,
including snuffing them in the end, as I’m sure that your very remote location
would make the secret disposal of their bodies easy to achieve."
"Nevertheless," the Master continued helpfully, whilst standing back again to
admire the follow-up work he had just performed on Sergei’s agonised chest, "I
still recommend that you do acquire some instruction in the various
techniques. You won’t want to spoil permanently your young Americans too soon,
having gone to the trouble and enormous expense of acquiring such lovelies in
the first place. You’ll also find that becoming expert enables you to
entertain the sluts much better and long-lastingly, in terms of causing them
the maximum agony with the minimum of wear and tear."
"You’ll thereby maximise your own pleasure and their pain over the longest
possible period," the Master concluded, as he happily inspected the accurately
placed pair of needles protruding from each side of the hurting and sobbing
Sergei’s nipples, "and so gain real value for your money, time and trouble!"
"I’ll probably take your advice," the Arab Sheikh responded before asking,
"but is it safe to discuss such matters in front of this slave brat?"
"It’s perfectly safe," the Master replied, "as all such brats are carefully
vetted, as to not only their suitability for their year or two of slavery but
also their ability to keep their mouths shut afterwards about all they’ve
experienced, seen and heard. For Russians, they’ll be returned to the normal
world very rich and with good cover stories to explain their sudden wealth at
such a young age, which will basically centre around their supposed employer’s
remarkable remunerative generosity towards workers who had proved of great
value. The sluts also know that anyone who proves indiscreet will be
eliminated!"
"You mentioned the possibility of circumcision, so do you propose to cut this
particular slave brat’s cock?" the Arab Sheikh then changed the subject to
enquire. "In my country, of course," he added, "all males have lost their
foreskins because they’re Muslims, whereas I notice that virtually all Russian
boys not of my faith retain their prepuces!"
"You’ll also find, when you come to abduct some of them, that many American
boys have been circumcised," the Master initially commented in reply,
"although usually not for religious reasons, unless they’re Muslim too or Jew.
There’s a silly theory amongst a lot of Christian Yankee adults that cutting
cocks is better and more hygienic for their sons, although I often wonder why,
if that were truly the case, they think that their deity gave the boys their
foreskins in the first place. When you think about the issue, you realise that
slicing off prepuces without real religious or medical necessity is the only
common example of mankind attempting to change God’s design for the human
body."
"Typical Yankee arrogance and stupidity!" the Arab interrupted to comment,
with venom in his voice and whilst clearly displaying his deep hatred for the
USA. Although the Master was a cruel sadist, he immediately felt a brief pang
of pity for the American boys who eventually fell into the malevolent Sheikh’s
clutches. However, he was too diplomatic to say so.
"As for circumcising this particular slave brat," the Master instead added, "I
might choose to do so, as I certainly intend to experience the pleasure of
removing the foreskin of at least one of my boys. I’ll probably sometime make
my selection by means of a competition."
"For example," the Master continued, "I could organise a round-robin naked
wrestling contest between the four of them, with the worst performer being
circumcised for ineptitude. Alternatively, I could keep them all nicely chaste
for a few weeks so that they become desperate for relief. I could then attach
penile vibrators to their cocks and the first to succumb to ejaculation would
lose his foreskin!"
"Hmmm," the Arab Sheikh remarked, "you’re giving me some delicious food for
thought!"
(A basement cell of the same large luxurious dacha in a quiet part of the
Russian countryside, conveniently close to St. Petersburg, same time)
The Master’s other new slaveboy, Viktor, who had also been freshly bought at
the recent secret auction near Moscow and who was currently securely
imprisoned in a basement cell close to the torture chamber, could hear
Sergei’s regular screams. As the boy did so, he experienced a strange mix of
emotions.
Viktor, who was still waiting to be ceremonially inducted by the Master into
his new life in the same way as Sergei was presently being introduced to his
new existence, was both highly apprehensive and excited. Unlike the other 14
year-old newcomer to this perverted world, the boy possessed an identified
element of overt masochism and this feature of his developing complex
personality was now evidenced by anguish in his groin.
Viktor’s masochistic excitement, assisted by recent enforced chastity and
furtive feeding with strong and effective aphrodisiacs, had encouraged his
cock to want to grow. However, the hard transparent plastic tube, with
internal sharp spikes, which had been designed to encase his flaccid penis
perfectly, resolutely and painfully prevented the achievement of such an aim.
In order to try to end his penile distress, Viktor had already had to turn his
beautiful face away from the television screen in his cell, which was
constantly switched on to show continous pornographic videos involving
pederasty. However, the boy now encountered much greater difficulty in
preventing his mind from focussing on Sergei’s vociferous screams from nearby.
Viktor’s imagination pictured a beautiful boy being ruthlessly tortured, and
his mind subsequently saw himself as the victim. The pain endured by his cock,
as the penile shaft impaled itself on the spikes in the encasing plastic tube
in response to this mental vision, then became acute.
(Basement torture chamber of the same large luxurious dacha in a quiet part of
the Russian countryside, conveniently close to St. Petersburg, same time)
The relatively rapid withdrawal of the needles from Sergei’s smooth chest was
far less painful than their original insertion. However, their subsequent
replacement by small but sturdy rings of genuine silver was far more
anguishing.
The two flanged ends of each originally opened ring had to be carefully pushed
by the Master through the respective side apertures created by the needles
before being excruciatingly snapped together within the flesh comprising the
Sergei’s left and right areola. The boy again reacted with further screaming
and increased tears.
The Master stood slightly back to admire his handiwork, whilst gently flicking
the embedded silver rings up and down to test the steadfastness of their
placement and flexibility of their residual movement. "Excellent!" the man
again subsequently commented to himself, this time in respect of the new
jewellery ornamenting Sergei’s chest. The man then went to collect another
fresh needle.
"Now I’ll pierce your cock!" the sadistically smiling Master now announced to
Sergei.
(Ground-floor security room of the same large luxurious dacha in a quiet part
of the Russian countryside, conveniently close to St. Petersburg, same time)
After swallowing the security guard’s first ejaculate of the day, Yuri now
knew where the man’s next seminal deposit would be aimed, as he continued to
provide the hairy and pungent adult crotch with oral attention. The boy had
previously received instructions to "Use your lips and tongue to make me hard
again, slave brat."
Yuri had also been told "I’ll then fuck you when you’ve readied me!"
(Basement torture chamber of the same large luxurious dacha in a quiet part of
the Russian countryside, conveniently close to St. Petersburg, same time)
Only now did Sergei appreciate that, during the excruciating ringing of his
nipples, his cock had somehow again become erect. Such an incongruous
phenomenon was brought to his attention when the Master grabbed the boy’s hard
penile shaft and declared to the Arab "I’m glad the slave brat’s stiff whilst
I perform his frenum piercing!"
"If the slave brat hadn’t been hard," the Master added, "I’d have had to make
him so. Fitting a frenum barbell to a flaccid cock could subsequently cause
the penile flesh to tear when the shaft later grew to erection!"
In reaction to the Master’s comments, Sergei’s cock immediately began to
reduce in size, presumably in fright. However, the man prevented a return to
flaccidity by rubbing the shaft back to fulsome erection, which was an action
that he would keep up whilst inflicting his piercing, and also covered the
penis with surgical alcohol.
The petrified Sergei next felt the sharp point of his Master’s freshly
sterilised third needle come to rest against the skin on one side of his
cock’s lower surface, close to the head. As the intrigued Arab continued to
watch in fascination, the host then pushed the tip of his implement into the
boy’s penile flesh.
Aware of the need not to move, Sergei now somehow managed to confine signs of
his renewed distress to a brief yelp as opposed to extensive scream, plus the
formation of just a few tears, as his Master painfully pierced the underside
of his cock. The boy also remained relatively muted when the man subsequently
removed the implement that had tunnelled through the penile flesh to protrude
from both edges and instead insert a tiny silver barbell replacement.
To allow penetration, the penile ornament was originally missing one of its
heads until this minuscule component was screwed on to the relevant end once
it had infiltrated the cock. Fixing the part in place required excellent
eyesight and dexterity but the Master proved up to the task, although to the
agonised and ashamed Sergei successful attachment seemed to take an eternity
to achieve.
Nevertheless, this particular eternity passed and now Sergei’s maintained
erection now proudly displayed a silver frenum ornament, whilst his similarly
pained nipples were also interestingly ringed. However, the boy’s attention
was quickly distracted from his new piercings by his Master’s next
pronouncement.
"Now I’ll brand you!" the sadistically smiling Master declared next to Sergei,
whilst the man removed his mouth mask and rubber gloves.
(A basement cell of the same large luxurious dacha in a quiet part of the
Russian countryside, conveniently close to St. Petersburg, same time)
Sasha was currently much less susceptible to genital discomfort than Viktor,
whilst he also heard in an adjacent cell Sergei’s screams. The boy’s bodily
injuries, recently inflicted by his Master during a particularly long and
intense punishment session in the nearby torture chamber, were still too
distressing for the sado-masochistic element of the 14 year-old’s own
character to gain enjoyment from the sounds.
Sasha instead closed his eyes again and somehow the boy once more fell asleep.
(Basement torture chamber of the same large luxurious dacha in a quiet part of
the Russian countryside, conveniently close to St. Petersburg, same time)
The Master presented the ingenious electric branding iron, which was similar
to a soldering device and whose small but ornately shaped metal tip was
glowing bright scarlet, to Sergie’s appalled blue eyes. The boy now noticed
that the red-hot end of the implement depicted the profile of a little double-
headed eagle, which he had last seen at the auction emblazoned on Yuri’s
chest. He also now became acquainted with the pertinence of the symbol.
"My grandfather," the Master rather proudly boasted to the Arab in English,
"was born before the revolution and was the illegitimate son of a Russian
Romanov Archduke and a household maid. I’ve therefore adopted an emblem of the
former royal house as my own in order permanently to mark my slaveboys with
something appropriately relevant and tasteful. The symbol is discretely small,
in line with the brat’s contractual conditions relating to his willingness to
be branded, and can either be passed off later in his life as a tattoo or be
removed at my expense after his service for me through plastic surgery."
"Again," the Master then advised Sergei in Russian, "I recommend that you keep
very still. I’ll be extremely upset if your brandmark is not perfectly
positioned in the middle of your chest, exactly midway between your newly
pierced nipples!"
Meanwhile, the fresh minuscule silvery adornment on the underside of Sergei’s
cock was fully visible because the unruly shaft not only was still erect but
also had reverted to pointing back at his navel. This penile disposition was
soon to prove unfortunate for the boy’s pride.
Sergei’s terrified blue eyes quickly became incapable of staring at the red-
hot tip of the electric branding iron, which would soon mark him as his
Master’s property. The boy instead closed his eyelids in readiness to feel the
excruciation of his smooth chest being imminently seared with the man’s
double-headed eagle emblem. However, the 14 year-old’s expectation was not
immediately met.
Sergei instead felt a ball gag being forcibly inserted into his mouth, whilst
his Master made another comment in English to the Arab. "Although I like to
hear my slave brats’ screams," the man remarked, "gagging at this point is
usually advisable, as they’re otherwise liable to bite off their own tongues,
given the intense agony they endure during branding!"
Sergei was naturally not particularly comforted by his Master’s comment. The
boy, whose eyes were still closed, was even less consoled, after his
uncomfortable but effective gag had been put in place, by the subsequent feel
of intense heat approaching the middle of his chest.
Yet more excruciating agony, of an intensity not previously encountered, then
briefly engulfed Sergei, simultaneous to his nostrils detecting the smell of
his own burning flesh, before complete blackness overwhelmed his mind.
(Ground-floor security room of the same large luxurious dacha in a quiet part
of the Russian countryside, conveniently close to St. Petersburg, same time)
The sight on his closed circuit television monitor of Sergei being branded
brought the security guard, who was still enjoying Yuri’s expert oral
attentions, close to another climax. However, as the man was intent on
impregnating another of the boy’s orifices, he ordered the 14 year-old to
desist, stand up and lean face-forward against a nearby wall.
Yuri reluctantly but nevertheless without hesitation complied, knowing that
any overt delay would undoubtedly prove much more painful than what he was
about to experience. Although the boy had by now been the regular subject of
sodomy by large manly cocks, his rectum had somehow remained tight and so the
act still hurt.
When Yuri leaned against the wall, he did so by resting the palms of his hands
wide apart against the painted surface, with his rear bent at the waist and
legs splayed. This well-practised posture presented the boy’s curvaceous
bottom nicely for imminent sodomy.
The security guard was not subsequently slow in benefiting from Yuri’s
compliant stance, and soon the man’s groans of pleasure echoed round the room
in tandem with pained grunts from the boy, as a large cock was eagerly thrust
in and out of a tight young rectum.
(Basement torture chamber of the same large luxurious dacha in a quiet part of
the Russian countryside, conveniently close to St. Petersburg, same time)
The pierced and branded Sergei was awoken from his merciful faint by being
hosed with chilled water, which, despite its very cold temperature, did little
to reduce the acutely agonising burning sensation being experienced on his
chest. The boy then tasted cum on his lips.
The Master recognised Sergei’s sudden awareness that the boy’s belly, chest
and face had been splattered with semen and so he advised "It’s your own
sperm, slave slut. You ejaculated again when I planted my branding iron down
onto your chest. Naturally, because of your second unauthorised orgasm, I’ll
have to add to the punishment that you’re already due for earlier incompetence
at performing fellatio!"
"Now, what would be appropriate chastisement for your various transgressions?"
the man then briefly contemplated before answering his own question. "Ah,
yes," the adult decided, "I think that a comprehensive flogging of your whole
body, including your back, front, sides and soles of your feet, would be
suitable punishment for your ineptitude at fellatio. Additional electric shock
treatment, especially to your genitals, would be most pertinent to revenge
your latest unauthorised ejaculation!"
"However, before I treat you to such delights," the Master crudely added,
"I’ll now thoroughly fuck your virgin anus first!"
(Ground-floor security room of the same large luxurious dacha in a quiet part
of the Russian countryside, conveniently close to St. Petersburg, same time)
Yuri’s grunts of pain subsided in number and volume, as his sodomiser’s groans
of pleasure simultaneously increased in intensity, whilst the security guard
increasingly came close to climax. "You’re….a lovely….fuck….boy," the man
stammered, as he felt his cock about to explode in ecstasy.
Yuri’s tight rectum was becoming more accustomed to the large manly invader
being rapidly and harshly thrust in and out of him, selfishly without any
regard whatsoever for the boy’s own pleasure. Instead of overwhelming pain,
the 14 year-old therefore began to notice the security guard’s hard erection
more pleasantly rubbing the sides of his rear orifice and, at the cock’s
maximum intrusion, starting to tickle his prostrate.
Yuri’s own cock then began to react to the lessening of rectal pain and its
replacement by a degree of pleasure. From sad flaccidity, the boy’s penis
fruitlessly attempted to grow and rise within the tight confines of the
cruelly spiked, transparent, slightly curved perspex tube encasing the
immensely frustrated member.
The inevitable result was more anguish for Yuri, this time at the front rather
than at the rear of his lovely loins.
(Basement torture chamber of the same large luxurious dacha in a quiet part of
the Russian countryside, conveniently close to St. Petersburg, same time)
Sergei, still with mind largely bemused by pain and eyes closed, detected the
gradual unfastening of his leather anklet cuffs from the chains that had
resolutely fixed them to the bondage rings at the bottom corners of the table
upon which he had been spreadeagled. However, the boy’s splayed legs did not
immediately move in response, such was the intensity of the shock and
excruciation resulting from his recent agonising experiences.
In fact, the Master was now responsible for moving Sergei’s lower limbs. The
man grabbed the boy’s left ankle and began to raise the leg into the air and
then backwards and downwards towards the 14 year-old’s still-chained wrist on
the same side of the table.
This action compelled Sergei to raise his right ankle similarly, which also
caused his bottom, whilst his head and back still rested on the table, to
become uplifted. The Master then virtually doubled up the boy, as he next
chained the 14 year-old’s left anklet to the same bondage ring that restrained
the wrist on the same side.
The Master subsequently advanced purposefully to the other side of the
furniture and chained Sergei’s raised free right leg, currently flailing in
the air just above his other wrist, to the bondage ring holding that arm in
place. The man then pressed a button on the side of the table, whose surface
began to lower to a height from which he could more comfortably climb on top.
The Master again unfastened the studs that held the leather triangle, which
confined his genitals within his trousers, to free and reveal once more a re-
aroused fulsome manly hairy erection. With the table now at the required
convenient height, the man next climbed onto the leather surface to point his
hard cock at Sergei’s uplifted bottom.
The perceptive Sergei now appreciated that he had been chained in a perfect
position for imminent deflowering by his obviously rampant and eager Master.
The way in which his splayed limbs were fixed jointly together to the table
above his head had spread his buttocks wide, with his pink virginal sphincter
both clearly visible and perfectly presented for imminent violation by the
man’s long and broad erection.
As Sergei perceived this truism, and realised that his anal virginity was
about to be forfeit in an undoubtedly painful and degradingly merciless
manner, he somehow temporarily forgot the excruciation afflicting his chest at
three points, as well as the underneath of his penis. The boy’s momentary
distraction was despite the fact that his current demeaning positioning on the
table caused his own tightly ringed and currently flaccid genitals, with their
silvery frenum piercing ornament, to dangle just above his face. The 14 year-
old was even oblivious to the fact that his cockhead was still noticeably damp
with his own ejaculate.
The relief from feeling pain, amazingly momentarily experienced by Sergei’s
mind, was, however, only very brief. His Master advised the Arab Sheikh that
he had positioned the boy as he had done because "I like to see the faces of
my slave brats whilst I deflower them!" The man then viciously thrust his
large hard erection at the 14 year-old’s pink virginal sphincter, which had
previously appeared to be winking at him in tune with the young Muscovite’s
anxious anticipation of the imminent penile attack and his consequent nervous
heartbeat.
The commencement of Sergei’s deflowering was now confirmed by another loud
scream emerging from the boy’s sweet rosy lips.
(Ground-floor security room of the same large luxurious dacha in a quiet part
of the Russian countryside, conveniently close to St. Petersburg, same time)
The security guard triumphantly and ecstatically shouted "Yes!"
Simultaneously, Yuri felt his insides being flooded by spurt after spurt of
cum gushing from the man’s engorged cock, which was now motionless, whilst
thrust fully inside the boy.
Yuri simultaneously experienced agony of great intensity in his groin, and
some of his own semen unprecedentedly began to ooze out of the tiny pepper-
pot-like holes at the end of the spiked tube encasing his own cock.
(Basement torture chamber of the same large luxurious dacha in a quiet part of
the Russian countryside, conveniently close to St. Petersburg, same time)
Sergei had recently suffered a lot of pain of various kinds. The 14 year-old
now experienced another variety, as his Master proceeded to deflower his new
slaveboy.
The resistance of Sergei’s virginal sphincter to the pressure imposed on the
taut pink circular anal muscle was initially tough but was eventually
excruciatingly overcome, as the Master’s cock brushed past the defences to
invade the tight orifice beyond. The man then rammed his penile intruder
mercilessly to the hilt into the boy, who, besides acute agony, momentarily
felt pubic hair brush his buttocks.
Sergei, whose sensuous blue eyes were now fully open and expelling further
copious tears, next felt his Master’s saliva begin to fall onto his face and
his branded and pierced chest. The boy also managed to notice the wicked
ocular look on the man’s own hooded visage, as the adult started ruthlessly to
thrust rhythmically his large cock in and out of the 14 year-old.
The Master clearly displayed cruel contentment at deflowering his latest
beautiful slaveboy in a distressing and degrading manner. The man also
reinforced his sadistic satisfaction by continuously calling the 14 year-old a
"Slut!" whilst occasionally spitting onto the young Muscovite’s tearful face
during his now rhythmic but still vicious act of sodomy.
The Master additionally, whilst continuing his thrusting, once ordered Sergei
to "Open your mouth, slave brat, and swallow this!" The boy reluctantly
obliged and was rewarded with having to attempt to consume a significant
quantity of phlegm spat accurately down his throat.
The Master eventually quietened, as he came close to climax. The man even
closed his own eyes, as the pressure within him to expel his ejaculate into
Sergei to impregnate the boy and complete his deflowering became acute.
This pressure finally became too great, despite the Master’s attempt to
prolong his pleasure. With one final thrust deep into Sergei’s ravished
rectum, the man’s cockhead exploded.
Despite Sergei’s anguish, of which his very sore rear orifice was now a major
factor, the boy could feel the influx of copious sperm deep into his insides.
He recognised that the experience signalled that his ecstatic Master had
achieved his pleasurable aim and that the 14 year-old was now no longer an
anal virgin. However, the young Muscovite’s thoughts were then quickly
refocused on other matters.
After again spitting onto Sergei’s already phlegm-spattered face, the Master,
whilst he dismounted the boy to the accompaniment of an audible pop, as air
replaced cock inside the 14 year-old’s ravished rectum, confirmed with great
satisfaction "The brat’s induction as my slave is now complete!" The man also
reminded the young Muscovite about the cruel punishments that were now
imminent.
The painfully pierced, branded and deflowered Sergei immediately wished that
his Master had not been so considerate in re-appraising him about the
experiences to come.
(Ground-floor security room of the same large luxurious dacha in a quiet part
of the Russian countryside, conveniently close to St. Petersburg, same time)
"Lay still, slave slut," the security officer commanded of a rightly nervous
and still naked Yuri, whom he had already ordered to lie face down across his
seated knees. "I mightn’t have the equipment that’s in your Master’s torture
chamber," the man then commented, "but I assure you that this spanking, which
I’m going to give you for cumming without permission, will hurt almost as much
as any of his paddles, especially after I’ve first reddened your bum!"
Yuri had been completely shocked that his entrapped and forcibly flaccid cock
had somehow expelled some semen. The boy had detected no orgasmic ecstasy in
his groin as his penis had attempted fruitlessly to expand towards the end of
his subjection to sodomy. He had instead only experienced great pain. However,
he also now realised that this genital distress might have overwhelmed any
underlying pleasurable feelings.
Yuri’s bemusement was now additionally overwhelmed by a different attitude, as
a palm then crashed harshly down onto his lustrous bottom, to an accompanying
yelp from the anguished boy.
(Basement torture chamber of the same large luxurious dacha in a quiet part of
the Russian countryside, conveniently close to St. Petersburg, same time)
Sergei’s sweet rosy lips now emitted several more loud screams, and his
sobbing increased in intensity. The boy’s splayed legs had been chained again
to bondage rings embedded at the bottom of the table. The Master, who had
replaced his sated genitals within the cover provided by the leather triangle
at the front of his trousers, had then returned to caning the soles of the 14
year-old’s feet.
Such torment was to be the preliminary to a much more comprehensive beating of
Sergei’s beautiful form.
(Ground-floor security room of the same large luxurious dacha in a quiet part
of the Russian countryside, conveniently close to St. Petersburg, same time)
Yuri’s bottom was already nicely red and warm, as another harsh slap rained
down on the crying boy’s now very irritated buttocks.
(Basement torture chamber of the same large luxurious dacha in a quiet part of
the Russian countryside, conveniently close to St. Petersburg, same time)
Sergei had been released from his bondage on the table and commanded to stand
next to the furniture. The experience was rather painful, given the very
tender soreness inflicted on the soles of the boy’s feet by his Master’s cane,
and also caused him to exert his weight on only one apparently fiery foot
before regularly switching in anguished need to the other. The sight of the 14
year-old doing so in a mannerism that resembled a stationary hop caused much
amusement for the two men present.
Sergei’s existence became even more distressing when he was next required to
use his fingers to gather up his own cum and that of his Master, which was
despoiling his naked body, and then lick his digits clean. The boy considered
the chore literally extremely distasteful, especially when cleansing his
hurting bumcrack free of the manly semen spilling out of his anus, and his
attitude worsened when he was also ordered to utilise his tongue to remove
ejaculate spilt onto the table and floor. However, the 14 year-old was
additionally now grateful for his earlier subjection to an enema, as the
extraneous sperm that had emerged from his ravished rectum had not been
polluted by even more unpleasant substances.
On subsequent transference to his new bondage location, Sergei was forced to
walk several paces across the cool black stone floor. Given his extremely
tender and sore soles, the few strides had been most distressing and conducted
as if the 14 year-old had been advancing across red-hot coals, much to the
further amusement of the watching Master and Arab Sheikh.
Sergei next found the leather cuffs on his wrists linked above him to chains
dangling from the ceiling. The boy’s new bondage posture necessitated him
standing awkwardly and excruciatingly on his sore tiptoes in order to maintain
some connection with the floor. However, this conjunction was not to be kept
for much longer.
After the Master had chained Sergei’s black leather ankle cuffs close
together, the man advanced towards a switch on the nearby wall. He then
pressed the associated button and a sudden whirring noise indicated the
ignition of a hoist mechanism.
Sergei’s arms then had to bear all of the boy’s weight, as he was slowly
lifted off the ground. The tight leather cuffs suspending him in place would
subsequently over time cause sore chaffing of his wrists, seriously reddening
them and causing parts to become raw and bloody.
Another press of the switch button later left Sergei dangling just above the
floor, whilst now displaying his brandmark and silver piercing jewellery,
along with his cockring of the same precious metal and black leather slave
collar and matching wrist and ankle cuffs. His cruel Master thoroughly enjoyed
the sight, especially as the man appreciated that this particular slaveboy was
unusually not a masochist but had bravely volunteered for service for entirely
altruistic reasons.
Satisfied that Sergei was nicely positioned for his imminent flogging, the
Master next returned towards his comprehensive collection of flagellation
tools. These cruel implements were displayed on wall-hooks and comprised a
wide array of paddles, canes, straps and whips.
The Master initially selected one of the wooden paddles. "This’ll nicely
redden and warm your bum," the smirking man then announced to Sergei, "before
I apply a cane to your buttocks and a leather strap to the rest of your rear
and then your front. I’ll leave whipping your genitals for last!"
(Ground-floor security room of the same large luxurious dacha in a quiet part
of the Russian countryside, conveniently close to St. Petersburg, same time)
"Stand up, slave slut," the security guard now commanded of Yuri, after the
man had concluded his spanking, having appreciated that there were limits as
to how far he could go in respect of chastising his employer’s boys.
Extremities were usually reserved for his boss.
Yuri happily complied with the security guard’s command, as the order
indicated the thankful end of his spanking, or so both he and the uniformed
man thought. However, the pair was then disillusioned in their belief by the
discovery of fresh sperm on the adult’s trousers.
"You dirty slave slut," the genuinely annoyed security guard yelled at the
stunned Yuri, whose painful spanking had caused him to fail to realise that
his forcibly restrained cock had again somehow expelled sperm. However, the
fresh evidence was visibly drooling from the end of his previously cleaned
perspex penile tube, as well as staining the man’s trousers.
"Lie back over my knee, slave slut," the furious security guard therefore
commanded of Yuri. The man was no longer concerned that his boss might be
annoyed that one of his slaveboys had developed a bottom that had suddenly
become not only very sore but also red raw.
The security guard now had a reasonable excuse to inflict such damage on Yuri.
(Basement torture chamber of the same large luxurious dacha in a quiet part of
the Russian countryside, conveniently close to St. Petersburg, same time)
The Master’s paddle did not take long to render Sergei’s bottom as sore,
scarlet and hot as was Yuri’s on the floor above. The sound of slap after slap
reverberated around the torture chamber, along with the young victim’s shrieks
and sobs, as his hurting suspended body also swayed slightly in tandem with
each savage blow.
Sergei’s shrieks and sobs then intensified in volume when the Master exchanged
his paddle for another cane.
(Ground-floor security room of the same large luxurious dacha in a quiet part
of the Russian countryside, conveniently close to St. Petersburg, same time)
Yuri could not help but raise his ankles in response to every hard slap
striking his almost red-raw bottom. However, the boy’s feet subsequently
quickly retreated to their former position before they further annoyed the
security guard, whose angered manual beating of the 14 year-old’s buttocks was
continuing remorselessly.
(Basement torture chamber of the same large luxurious dacha in a quiet part of
the Russian countryside, conveniently close to St. Petersburg, same time)
After watching from behind the Master cane with slow deliberation and hard
accuracy Sergei’s scarlet buttocks a couple of times, with each blow causing
the suspended boy again to sway slightly, the Arab Sheikh advanced to stand in
front of the crying and lachrymose 14 year-old. "May I?" the guest then asked
of his Russian host, as the Arab Sheikh began to disrobe.
"Of course," the Master answered, clearly aware of the Arab’s intent. The
Sheikh subsequently proceeded to strip completely naked, revealing his rather
fat and very hairy ugly body in the process.
Another couple of carefully well-aimed and hard blows from the Master’s cane
then struck Sergei’s bottom, in tandem with further agonised yelps and
increased tearfulness, before the finally naked Arab advanced to stand
immediately in front of the agonised boy. The Sheikh subsequently grasped the
14 year-old’s flaccid uncircumcised cock and placed his own now fully erect
cut version in the same hand.
Whilst simultaneously holding Sergei’s soft cock and his own hard penis in the
same hand, the Arab then began to masturbate himself. As the Sheikh did so, he
heard the sound of further blows from the Master’s cane striking the shrieking
and sobbing boy’s rear.
The Arab’s body then visibly vibrated, as copious cum quickly gushed out of
his own cockhead to splash all over Sergei’s groin. When the satisfied Sheikh
subsequently eventually let go of the boy’s own penis and stepped back, to the
accompaniment of more sounds indicating a cane hitting vulnerable young flesh,
he saw that the 14 year-old’s genitals were covered with his adult sperm. Some
of the ejaculate had also begun to drip onto the ground below.
"Don’t worry about the spermatic mess," the Master commented to the Arab, as
his guest began to redress, "because the slave brat can clean it all up and
swallow it later!" "That’s very kind of him," the Sheikh remarked
sarcastically in response, whilst cane again struck young buttocks.
Meanwhile, from his perspective at Sergei’s rear, the Master could see that he
had now inflicted twelve hits of his cane on the boy’s bottom. The evidence
was provided by the dozen carefully separated horizontal stripes decorating
the 14 year-old’s already scarlet buttocks, the lines being of a deeper red
than the rest of the recently sodomised and paddled posterior curvature.
"Come and see the horizontal pattern that I’ve created on the slave brat’s
bum," the Master subsequently suggested to the Arab, who had almost redressed.
"I’d like you to observe what now happens," he added, "when I inflict a couple
of diagonal blows. You’ll usually find that the boy’s reaction will be more
intense than before because the pain induced where hits intersect will be more
acute, and might also sprout a few droplets of blood!"
After the Arab had redressed, the Master proved his point.
(A basement cell of the same large luxurious dacha in a quiet part of the
Russian countryside, conveniently close to St. Petersburg, same time)
Yuri was prodded into his cell by a harsh slap to his virtually red-raw and
intensely hurting bottom. The security guard, who had bundled the boy back
into his tiny prison, subsequently ordered the 14 year-old to "Clean yourself,
you dirty slave slut, in readiness to receive the doctor. I’ll send him to
commence repairs on that bum of yours. I’ll also advise your Master later of
what I’ve done and why. Knowing his tastes, he might want to fuck you in your
present condition, appreciating that every time he thrusts forward and slams
his body against your buttocks, he’ll be inflicting extra anguish to your
rear!"
Yuri sadly came to the same conclusion about his Master’s likely later intent,
after the man had been appraised of the severe spanking perpetrated on his
miscreant slaveboy, who could still not work out how his forcibly flaccid
encased cock could ejaculate.
(Basement torture chamber of the same large luxurious dacha in a quiet part of
the Russian countryside, conveniently close to St. Petersburg, same time)
The Master now held a leather strap in his hand, whose diameter was about 6
centimetres, or 2˝ inches. "I’m going to beat the slave brat’s back," he
enthusiastically announced to his Arab guest, "and the rear of his legs. I’ll
subsequently similarly flagellate his sides before progressing to flog his
chest, belly and the front of his lower limbs. I’ll avoid his genitals in
order to preserve them for their later whipping, which will be inflicted using
a special implement. I’ll then entertain his sexual organs, alongside his
nipples, with severe electric shocks!"
Another loud scream subsequently resonated around the torture chamber when the
first of six hard blows from the Master’s strap struck Sergei’s back, whilst a
droplet of blood fell onto the ground from a point on the boy’s damaged bottom
where two vivid lines, created previously by the cane, intercepted.
(A basement cell of the same large luxurious dacha in a quiet part of the
Russian countryside, conveniently close to St. Petersburg, same time)
The recently showered Yuri was grateful for the doctor’s careful subtlety,
whilst the physician gently applied healing lotion to the devastated curves of
the boy’s bruised buttocks, where previous vivid redness was mellowing to
various shades of brown. However, he was much less happy when the man later
enforced another enema on him.
"Your Master’s bound to want to fuck you whilst your bottom’s so sore and
raw," the doctor sagely advised Yuri, "and so he’ll want your rectum cleared
of his security guard’s cum!"
(Basement torture chamber of the same large luxurious dacha in a quiet part of
the Russian countryside, conveniently close to St. Petersburg, same time)
"You have to be careful when you beat a young slave brat’s front," the Master
advised his Arab guest, "as the various parts are more susceptible to serious
injury. For example, ribs could be broken or internal organs dangerously
damaged. I therefore strongly recommend that you only use pliable implements,
such as straps and whips, reserving paddles and canes mainly for more
protected bottoms unless you can guarantee accuracy of hits against non-
vulnerable areas!"
The Master then proceeded to land the first harsh blow of his strap across
Sergei’s recently pierced, bejewelled and branded chest, carefully avoiding
the areas that were still very painful because of such ornamentation, at least
for now.
(A basement cell of the same large luxurious dacha in a quiet part of the
Russian countryside, conveniently close to St. Petersburg, same time)
The doctor had just left Yuri locked alone in his cell. The boy was lying on
his bed on his front, as his bottom was too sore to rest on.
The tearful Yuri wondered how long he would have to recuperate from his severe
spanking before his Master came to sodomise him.
(Basement torture chamber of the same large luxurious dacha in a quiet part of
the Russian countryside, conveniently close to St. Petersburg, same time)
When the Master’s strap did eventually land horizontally and harshly across
the part of Sergei’s chest that boasted his new piercings and brandmark, the
boy’s agony was so immense that he fainted for the second time on this awful
day. However, as previously, his merciful lapse into unconsciousness did not
last for long, as he was subsequently again woken by a further hosing with
chilly water.
The Master then applied the attention of his strap to Sergei’s belly before
moving downwards to the front of the boy’s dangling legs, carefully avoiding
the 14 year-old’s genitalia. The customary sounds of leather harshly striking
young flesh to the accompaniment of shrieks and sobbing therefore resumed for
a while until the man finally surrendered his implement for another.
The master’s new tool was an unusual whip. The black leather implement had a
normal-sized handle but the attached thong was very short.
"This is one of my genital whips," the Master advised the Arab Sheikh. "I know
that it doesn’t look very impressive," the man added by way of explanation,
"but it’s designed to sting rather than thrash. I want the slave brat’s sexual
organs to be in a condition in which they’ll appreciate every aspect of their
subsequent electric shock treatment. If I used anything heavier, they might
not be so susceptible to further torment!"
The Master subsequently separated Sergei’s dangling feet, which had previously
been chained together, and fixed their ankle cuffs to bondage rings resolutely
embedded wide apart in the floor below, thereby splaying the boy’s legs and
nicely presenting his genitalia for imminent chastisement. The man then
demonstrated the stinging nature of the whip’s short leather thong by
accurately and powerfully raining it against the 14 year-old’s vulnerable
flaccid cock, which was already adorned on the underside by two cane marks and
the frenum barbell.
A further shriek from Sergei’s rosy lips illustrated the painfully stinging
effectiveness of the strike, which was followed by several more onto the
penile shaft before the Master turned his sadistic attention to the boy’s
pleasantly dangling scrotum. Amazingly, the boy’s pained cock, which had
already ejaculated twice on this day, then again began to grow and rise in
response to the whipping of his balls.
"I thought that this slave brat was not supposed to be a masochist," the Arab
Sheikh commented to his host, in response to seeing Sergei becoming erect once
more. "The psychological experts insist he isn’t," the Master replied, "but
apparently there’s something in the psyche of all human males that often
causes arousal in reaction to pain. Such phenomena are well documented, for
example during public floggings and even executions, such as crucifixions and
hangings."
Meanwhile, Sergei’s shrieks had lessened in volume to nothing more than
anguished moans, whilst his master continued to whip the boy’s now rampant
genitalia. These sexual organs were beginning to display very narrow red
stripes in addition to the broader marks created earlier by the man’s cane.
"I’m sure that if I continued," the Master remarked to the Arab Sheikh, whilst
now launching a vicious strike of his little whip against the upper surface of
Sergei’s erection, "the slave brat would soon cum again. Would you like me to
prove my conjecture?"
In reaction to a keen affirmative reply from the Arab Sheikh, the Master
struck Sergei’s balls from underneath and the boy’s hard horizontal cock from
above several more times, with expert slow deliberation to maximise his young
victim’s agony. The man was rewarded when a further hit against the 14 year-
old’s smooth scrotum triggered another orgasm.
Sergei had again closed his sensuous and currently very tearful blue eyes and
so did not observe his cum spurting from his cockhead in one long white
stream, which vigorously shot about 30 centimetres forwards before arching
downwards to the floor. Despite the various agonies experienced by his body,
the boy was also momentarily incongruously experiencing ecstasy of an
unparalleled nature.
"Amazing!" the Arab Sheikh commented in response to viewing Sergei’s third
consecutive ejaculation in response to pain. He then asked of the Master "How
do you propose to reward the slave slut for this latest unauthorised
ejaculation?"
"I don’t know yet," the Master answered, whilst ceasing his whipping of
Sergei’s genitals, "as I’ll have to see the state he’s in after I’ve now
acquainted him with electric shock tortures and after he’s again licked up his
mess. However, I’ll probably introduce him to the rack, crucifix or impaling
pole. Alternatively, I could pierce his balls with needles, which is a
particularly painful punishment that he’ll never forget!" This alarming reply
encouraged the shocked post-orgasmic boy to open his eyes.
Sergei was just in time to observe his master wheeling another trolley towards
him. The boy’s own private wonderment at the nature of the devices displayed
on top was then answered by his Master in response to a question from the Arab
Sheikh.
In respect of a small control panel, which was linked to a number of sinister
implements made of stainless steel and also to an electric wall socket, the
Master advised "This controls the flow of electricity. I can either direct it
in terms of where and in what quantity to strike with shocks, or I can
alternatively opt for randomness."
Having wheeled the trolley to the still dangling Sergei’s side, the Master
then described the purpose of the disturbing different devices attached by
long thin wires to the control panel. He simultaneously individually held up
the various implements to show the Arab Sheikh.
The Master exhibited to his guest severe serrated nipple clamps, similar but
larger devices for clamping testicles, a catheter and a bulbous butt-plug, all
of clean shiny stainless steel, plus leads that would attach to Sergei’s
silver cockring.
четверка – ‘пытать’ [four – ‘Torture’])
* * * |
It Finally Happened | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES | A wifes awakening | ` It finely happened. `
I stepped out of the shower and started drying myself off, paying special to
my big balls which hung almost to my knees the size of Apples, they were at
their most magnificent, having just shaved them clean. I was feeling their
weight as I dried them off, lifted them up in front of the mirror thinking to
myself what a man I was!
The door opened and my wife Janet came in, I stood with my big Apples in hand
and proudly displayed them for her. what do you think Janet you think I'm
getting bigger? She looked at them saying they look bigger when clean shaven
like that, yeah!she said. I let them drop and pulled them up for her with my
stomach muscles in a display of my male superiority!
Jesus she laughed!! I think it's time I show you just what those big balls of
yours are worth! This was the first time I noticed a different attitude
towards me. She walked up to me and flicked her middle finger hard against my
right ball catching it perfectly. I grunted and dropped to my knees in pain
clutching my injured ball..
Well now a little delicate aren't they big guy!! I think your a very delicate
creature aren't you??
My 9 inch cock started to strain up as I recovered from her finger flick. God
why did you do that I said!!
She just laughed! I just wanted to show you that just one of my little fingers
could bring you to your Knees!!! So don't act so superior, I could do this to
you anytime I wanted!!
This WAS first time in my life, other than accidentally, that a woman had hurt
my balls. I was so proud of having big balls a sign of my manliness, that
having her so easily rendering me helpless disturbed me greatly.
She turned to leave the bathroom looking over her shoulder. she smiled you do
have big balls!!!!!!!
I was angry now, and was going to reinstate my prowess as a male over her. I
grabbed her and started ripping her clothes off like an animal. I'll show you
what a man with balls can do Bitch!
She giggled playfully!! Oh your so big and strong! You're going to hurt little
old me with those big things of yours!!
Naked I forced her to her knees, and swung my big cock striking her on the
side of her head hard. (She didn't like that)
I was going to bitch slap her with my cock, as I swung it back the other way,
she reached up grabbed my balls pulled them down and twisted hard.. I cried in
pain and collapsed to the floor, just then, as quick as a cat she was up and
slammed her foot into my stomach!
How dare you!!!! How dare you! She screamed you big balled bastard I'll cut
those balls off you you shit!!!!! How dare you hit me with that cock of
yours!!! I'll cut that off too, you fucking male pig!!!
She left, came back with a kitchen pairing knife and straddle me with her legs
looking down at me... Do you want me to cut you balls off?/ Do YOU SHE
screamed!!! No No!!!! please Janet don't cut my balls off please Janet!!! I'm
sorry I'm sorry please don't cut my balls off please!!! She was breathing
heavily and angrily looking down at me knife in hand ready to castrate me.
To be continued...
* * * |
Boys Like to be Held pt2 | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES, General ballbusting sessions | Once more spring and lithe, Erin back a good distance away, her foot slowly
retreating backwards. She let loose and....
Michael felt the soft fabric of her sock, the toes pointedly aimed, especially
the pedicured nail of her big toe, all compress against his package. The air
left his lungs as quickly as she had kicked him. He stood, mouth open, eyes
wide, as Erin delicately wiggled her toes within his stuff. With graceful
posture, she kept her balance on her other foot while it's partner whipped his
already smashed nuts.
He couldn't help but fall forward; the pain was too much. His eyes crinkled
with tears, Michael bit his bottom lip to silence a scream. Even as he fell
into a kneeling position once more, Erin kept her foot steady, right up
against his groin. She could feel both individual nuts, moving around, trying
to escape.
Michael curled up around her foot, holding her leg. He looked up to her with
pleading puppy dog eyes, barely able to groan out, "Please--p-please stop."
Erin shook her head, and pressed her foot harder. Michael whimpered sharply in
pain, and whispered almost inaudibly, "Please, I do-don't think I can t-take
any-m-m-more."
Erin sighed, slowly rolled her ankle, but then mercifully withdrew the foot.
She watched, hands on hips, as the boy further curled into himself, clutching
desperately at his boy bits. She was too pissed at his cowardly attitude to
take pity on his coughings and sputterings.
She walked over to her bed and sat down. Watching him whimper for a few more
moments, smiling to herself at her handiwork, she then said sternly, "Michael!
Come here."
Slowly the lanky boy drew his brown eyes up to hers, pain and a deep, deep
hurt obvious in them, even though they were watery with tears. For his part,
he did try to get up, but he could not take his hands from his 'nads. He was
holding them desperately, trying to assauge their aching pains.
Erin bit the inside of her cheek, becoming more annoyed with each moment
Michael lay dawdling on her floor. "Michael! Come over here now or I'll really
give you something to cry about. How about I take out the vice from the
garage? Hm? Stick your nuts in that and let it crush them to a pulpy mess of
nothing! Well?"
Michael moaned, and then replied weakly, "N-no, ma'am. I'm-m coming, ma-
ma'am." Slowly he picked himself up off of the hard wooden floor. When he
finally, painfully, got to his shaking knees, Erin became sympathetic.
Lightly she walked over to him, kneeling beside him. She placed a hand on his
back, rubbing it in circles. She kissed his cheek. "C'mon, Mikey, almost
there." She grabbed his elbow and tried to pull him up. It was shaky, but he
was standing. With a few uncertain steps, though Erin still had a hold on him,
they reached her bed, onto which he couldn't help but collapse.
Erin adjusted him onto his back, and more towards the middle. She herself
climbed on, deliberately pulling his cock from his already opened jeans and
boxers. It was soft and pliable, but still rather well-sized at what she guess
was five or so inches. Erin always thought penises in and of themselves looked
rather ugly, but this one she could actually consider cute, if that was the
right word for it. She lovingly kissed its head, flicking her tongue at its
slit. No response, except a small "ummph" sound from Michael.
"Aw, sweetie. You did really well today, though!" Laying his cock towards his
tummy, her hand once more delved into his boxers, this time much more gently.
Michael froze, paralyzed in fear that she might continue his torture with
squeezing. Fresh tears ran down his cheeks at the very thought, but Erin only
giggled.
Cupping her hands, she held aloft his balls, swollen and red. Gently, Erin
prodded them. Still intact. Michael yelped; she might as well have been
hammering them on an anvil. Every slight pressure on them sent him reeling.
"Aw, poor baby," Erin said sympathetically, cradling his testicles as lightly
as she could. "Just a little swelling is all, nothing permanent." She took a
moment to study them again, holding them this way and that. "I'm really proud
of you, though. Maybe I should kiss them and make them feel better?" Sweetly
she pecked both left and right testicle, giggling as she did.
Michael, for all the ache and stabbing pains with each throb of blood in his
ballsac, couldn't help but return a small smile. Softly Erin settled his balls
back into their rightful place. She cuddled up to his side, looking up at him
with a big grin. Kissing his cheek, she lightly wiped his tears away with her
thumb.
Snuggling up to him, she once again laid her hand deep into his pants, simply
holding his package. Michael squirmed a bit in anticipation, but Erin was more
interested in a nap than continuing their session. He sighed in relief; sleep
sounded like a very, very good idea. He was exhausted from such practice.
In a soft voice, Erin asked him, "That was fun today, huh?"
Knowing better than to disagree, Michael nodded and murmured, "Mm hmm."
She softly patted his stuff, much to his discomfort, and said before falling
asleep, "I can't wait 'till tomorrow. I have a few more ideas I'd like to do
with you..."
* * * |
|
Black mans sist jail bitch | GAY, TG, TESTICLES | Pooly endowed white man become black mans sissy jail bitch | ` I stood there in a state of shock as the Judge sentenced me to 3 years for
fraud, tears rolling down my face I took one last look at my wife Paula as I
was taken away by two large prison officers. Up untill then Id been a
successful businessman with a big house and a beautiful wife, but that was all
gone now.
On arriving at the Jail myself and the other prisoners were ordered to "strip
for inspection" by one of the guards. This I found to be particularly
embarrassing as im not very well endowed. Sniggering to themseves the guards
then instructed myself and another man who was also quite poorly endowed to
one side. " You pair are being allocated to "B" wing, Im sure you'll both be
very happy there" laughed one. Grinning widely one of the guards informed the
pair of us that "B" wing was primarily for black men, and that all white men
with small cocks were sent there to keep the black inmates happy. "Your both
going to become black mans bitches" roared another.
Still in a state of shock we were frogmarched naked in the direction of B
wing. Entering the wing we were both handed over to a pair of black guards(
all the guards in B wing were black). " Put these clothes on" bellowed one, as
we were both handed various items of female clothing. I couldn't believe my
eyes there before me was pink party type dress, complete with womens
underwear. No way I thought, only yo be told that if I didnt put them on Id be
kept naked for the next week. Submissivly I put on the garments, incluing a
bra, stockings and suspenders, and matching panties.
Entering the ward I almost fainted in terror 90% of the inmates were big rough
looking black men, the remaining 10% white men like me all dressed in womens
clothes. Some of these poor white guys were dressed as French Maids, some as
Schoolgirls, others in sexy nurses, uniforms, and some just in their undies. I
dint know where to look as dozens of black men looked my way, each one no
doubt thinking dirty thoughts about what they were going to do.
I couldn't believe my eyes what was going on, everywhere I looked white men
like myself were being used and abused. In front of me was this young lad of
about 20 or so on his knees dressed as a sexy schoolgirl sucking on a big
black mans cock. On the other side was another white guy being held down on a
table his arse being pounded by some black man.
Suddenly I to was grabbed by the arm and taken to a table in the main hallway,
" Oh no I cried" as a large group of black men held me down. What followed was
my worst nightmare as black cock after black cock used my poor arse over and
over again. My stocking clad legs were held wide apart as each man took a turn
with me, as the guards looked on doing nothing to prevent my ordeal.
Lather that night I was allocated a cell with an enormous black man called
Dwayne, he to fucked me hard, and said that he'd protect me in return for
becoming his "bitch". There I was this tiny wimp being given an offer I
couldn't refuse. Thus began my spen in prison, Dwayne dressed me as a French
Maid, and I did his bidding. I cleaned his cell, looked after his clothes, and
he used my arse and mouth whem ever her wished.
The worst this of all was visiting time, during which I was only allowed to
see my wife dressed as a woman. Paula my wife was really shocked to see me
dressed like this, as I explanined of how Id been sent to "B" wing and forced
to become a black mans bitch. On one vist Paula asked to meet Dwayne, and to
my amazment she actually thanked him for looking after me. As she lft she even
give Dwayne a kiss and told me to be a "good little girl"
Eventually my sentence was up and i was released. Upon arriving home I was
shocked to discover Dwayne who'd been released a few weeks earlier, was sat on
my sofa with Paula waiting for me. Paula informed me that Dwayne had moved in
with us and that he was to be the man of our house and I his bitch one more.
Taking me upstairs Paula helped dress me in a French Maids costume, as she
told me that if I wished to remain under her roof Id have to except that
Dwayne was my master.
That was 4 tears ago Dwayne is still the man of our house and I his sissy
Maid. since than Ive been castrated and Paula had had two black babies with a
third on the way.
Looking back im happy with my lot. I never really satisfied Paula with my
little cock, and Dwayne is more of a man than I could ever hope to be
* * *
` |
Masturbation is a sin | MINOR | In Jacob's church, masturbation is a sin. | “Masturbation is a sin. If you’re a boy, and you masturbate, it is better that
you cut off your own gonads rather than risk your soul. If you’re a parent,
and your son masturbates, it is better that you geld him rather than risk his
soul.” Thus, Reverend Gillis ended his sermon.
In his lap, Jacob’s hand hid his erection. Had Reverend Gillis looked at him
during the sermon? Was he talking to him – about him? He tried not to
masturbate – he’d even gone two whole days without doing it once – but it was
difficult; it was so damn difficult. If God didn’t want him to masturbate, why
did he make if feel so good?
Or was it Satan that made it feel so good? Did God allow Satan to make it feel
good to test him? If he did, Jacob had failed the test. He often masturbated
two or three times a day. Once, he had masturbated six times in one day.
“I’ll stop, God,” he promised. “I’ll never masturbate again, starting today –
starting right now.
In his room after church he stared at his hard cock. Again, it had betrayed
him: _touch me; hold me,_ it said to him. _Just touch me; just hold me. You
don’t have to do anything more. You don’t have to rub me; you don’t have to
make me shoot. Just hold me; wrap your hand around me and hold me._
I’ll just hold it, he told himself. I won’t masturbate.
It throbbed so, making small up and down motions.
Of its own volition, his hand grabbed it. It wasn’t a conscious decision on
Jacob’s part.
He grasped it behind the head, squeezing it as hard as he could. “Oh, oh,” he
gasped. It felt so damn good.
He didn’t mean to move his hand, but it slid forward, sliding his foreskin
over his cock’s head. He squeezed the head.
It felt even better, but his hand couldn’t stay there; it slid down the shaft
of his hard cock, until it butted against his groin, revealing his cock’s
engorged head.
As he slid his hand forward once again, a clear bead of moisture was expelled
from the slit at the end of his cock. He collected it on the tip of his
forefinger of his other hand and touched it to his tongue. He liked the taste.
His hand slid back, striking his groin; slid forward, pulling the loose skin
over the end of his cock. Back; forward; back; forward. “Fuck…fuck…fuck…” He
thrust his hips, humping his hand. Spunk shot from his cock, the first clump
landing three feet from where he stood.
He stood, biting his lower lip, thrusting his hips, humping his hand, pumping
his cock, as spunk shot from its end, falling in clumps on the floor, a line
of spunk from where he stood to a spot three feet in front of him.
“God damn it; god damn it; Oh, God, I didn’t mean to do it.”
“Jacob,” his mother called. “What are you doing up there? Aaron, see what that
boy’s up to. He spends too much time in his room.”
He heard his father’s footsteps on the stairs.
Jacob stepped out of his underwear – they were gathered around his ankles –
and began using them to wipe up the spunk tracks on the floor.
He hadn’t quite finished, when the door opened.
“Jacob!”
Looking back over his shoulder, he saw his father. His face was red. Jacob had
never seen him so angry.
Taking a step, Jacob’s father kicked him in his bare ass, sending him
sprawling into the vestiges of his spunk. It smeared across Jacob’s front.
“Masturbator,” his father, said. Taking off his belt, he struck Jacob.
“Masturbator.”
“I’m sorry,” Jacob wailed. “I won’t do it again. I just did it this once. I
won’t do it again.”
“Liar, masturbator…you’ve done it before.” He struck him harder. “Admit it.
You’ve done it before, haven’t you?”
“Yes, yes, just don’t hit me. I’ve done it before.”
His father stopped striking him. “You leave me no choice.” Reaching down, he
grabbed Jacob’s arm, pulling him to his feet. Jacob was naked. Although his
cock was flaccid, a drop of spunk hung from its end.
“What are you going to do?” asked Jacob.
Not answering, his father led him out of his room and down the stairs. Jacob
saw his mother and his two younger brothers at the dining room table.
“What are you going to do?” His mother asked the same question Jacob had.
“I’m going to do what I must,” said his father.
“Are you going to geld him?” asked Zachary. A year younger than Jacob, he,
too, had started puberty. Caleb, the youngest, had a year or two left before
he would.
Aaron, his father didn’t answer. Instead, he said, “Do you masturbate,
Zachary?” He knew Zachary was past puberty. He knew he had erections.
“No, Father,” said Zachary. “I wouldn’t do that. It’s a sin.”
Pulling Jacob’s arm, Aaron looked into his face. “Does he? Does your brother
masturbate?” The three brothers shared a room.
Although Jacob was sure Zachary did – he heard Zachary’s bed creak, when
Zachary thought he was asleep, he’d never seen Zachary do it. Still, he said,
“Yes, he does.”
“Liar,” said Zachary. “You do it all the time, but I don’t.”
“You knew he was doing it?” Aaron asked Zachary. “How long has he been
masturbating?”
“He’s been doing it for over a year,” said Zachary. “He does it under the
covers at night.”
“And you never said anything, even though your brother put his soul at risk?”
“I…I couldn’t prove it. I never saw him do it.”
“But you knew he was, didn’t you?” asked Aaron.
“Yes, I thought he was,” said Zachary.
“Because you were doing it, too, weren’t you?”
“No, I never,” said Zachary.
Aaron grabbed Zachary’s arm. “Get the door, Caleb,” he said. “We’re going to
the barn.”
“Are you going to geld them?” Caleb asked.
“Yes,” said Aaron.
“Please, Father, I won’t do it again,” said Jacob.
“He needs gelding, Father,” Zachary said, “but I don’t. I don’t masturbate.”
“I don’t believe you,” said Aaron. “If you knew he was masturbating, the only
reason you wouldn’t have told me was that you were doing it, too.” He led the
two through the back door toward the barn. After shutting the door, Caleb
followed.
Once in the barn, Aaron released their arms and gave each boy a shove,
hurtling them farther into the barn. Turning, he shut and barred the barn
door. “Get me the elastrator, he told Caleb, who soon returned with it and a
handful of rings.
“Take off your pants,” Aaron told Zachary.
“No, Father, please,” said Zachary, giving up the lie, “I don’t do it as much
as Jacob. He does it all the time. He’s the one that needs gelding. I didn’t
do it more than once a week. He does it every night. I’ll quit. I can quit. I
know I can. He’s the one that needs gelding, not me.”
“If you’ve known he’s been masturbating for over a year,” said Aaron,” I can
only suppose you’ve been doing it that long, too, and once a week is too much.
Once is too much. Take off your pants.”
“No, Father. Please don’t geld me,” said Zachary.
“Take off your pants, if you don’t want a beating to go along with the
gelding.”
As Zachary slipped off his pants, Aaron put a ring on the elastrator. He
pushed Jacob to the floor, bent over, pulled Jacob’s balls through the ring,
and released the ring. It snapped tight around the base of Jacob’s ball sac.
“Ow…ow…it hurts,” said Jacob.
Aaron, placed another ring on the elastrator, pushed Zachary to the floor,
bent over, pulled Zachary’s balls through the ring and released it. The ring
snapped tight around Zachary’s ball sac. Zachary clutched his balls. “It
hurts…it hurts,” he said.
He turned to look at Caleb. “Take off your pants,” he said.
“But, I don’t masturbate,” said Caleb.
“Take off your pants,” said Aaron.
Caleb took off his pants. Unlike his brothers, he had no pubic hair. His cock
and balls were small.
Aaron fit another ring on the elastrator; he pushed Caleb to the floor; and
snapped a ring around the base of his ball sac. “But, Father, I never…”
“You would, given time,” said Aaron. “It’s best that I remove the temptation.
I should have gelded your brothers at your age.”
He cleared out the tack room and locked the boys in it.
Caleb looked down at the ring around his ball sac. “It hurts,” he said. He
looked at Jacob. “Does it hurt you?”
“Yes, it hurts,” said Jacob. “It probably hurts me more than you. Your balls
are still small.”
“It’s all your fault,” said Zachary. “Why couldn’t you have waited until
tonight? You could have done it under the covers, and Father wouldn’t have
caught you.”
“You did it more than once a week,” said Jacob. “I’ll bet you did it every
night.”
“Not every night,” said Zachary. “Some nights I didn’t. You did it more than I
did.”
“Why did you do it?” asked Caleb. “Why do boys do it? I never did.”
“That’s cause you don’t have any hair yet,” said Jacob. “Your dick and balls
haven’t grown.”
“They won’t, now,” said Zachary. “Jeremy Brown was gelded when he was about
Caleb’s age, and his cock never grew. He showed me. His cock is no bigger than
Caleb’s. Ow…it hurts. It’s all your fault.”
Sometime later, Aaron checked on the boys. Their ball sacs were almost black.
None of them felt like eating. Both Jacob and Caleb had puked. He gave them
some water to drink, cleaned up the mess, and left them a slop bucket for them
to pee in.
That night, he let them back in the house. Their balls were dead. Nothing they
might do could save them. Neither Jacob nor Zachary felt like eating; both
felt sick to their stomachs, but, at least, the pain had eased. They could no
longer feel their balls. The hurt was deep inside.
Caleb, however, ate. He no longer hurt. He looked down at his little, black,
balls. “Are you going to cut them off, Father, or are you going to let them
fall off?” When he gelded lambs, Aaron left the bands on until the lambs’
balls fell off.
“I’ll cut them off,” said Aaron. “We can’t have you walking around with
rotting balls.”
Up in their room that night, Caleb said, “I’m glad Father did me. Now, I’ll
never be a masturbator like ya’ll. Aren’t you glad Father did you?”
“No,” said Zachary. “It hurts.”
“It hurt me at first,” said Caleb, “but it doesn’t hurt any longer. Aren’t you
glad Father did it, so you don’t have to masturbate?”
“No!” said Jacob. “I liked masturbating.”
“You liked it?” asked Zachary.
“Yes, I liked it. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it. I’ll bet all
boys do it. I’ll bet Father did it, when he was a boy.”
“Not Father,” said Caleb. “He wouldn’t have.”
“He has balls. He had them as a boy. I’ll bet he masturbated. I couldn’t help
it. I had to masturbate. There wasn’t anything I could do to stop myself. I
told myself I didn’t want to do it, but I did. It felt good. Nothing felt so
good.”
“I liked it, too,” admitted Zachary. He looked at Caleb. Maybe you are lucky
he did you, now. You won’t know what you’re missing.”
Something awoke Jacob the next morning. Opening his eyes, he stared at
Zachary’s hard cock. A black, swollen, ball sac hung from it. “Is your cock
hard?” Zachary whispered, not wanting to awake Caleb.
It was; Jacob nodded.
“Scoot over,” said Zachary. He pulled back the covers, looked at Jacob’s hard
cock – even though he was younger, his was longer than Jacob’s by a good inch
– and slid in beside Jacob.
“What are you doing?” whispered Jacob.
“Don’t you want to masturbate?”
Jacob nodded.
“I do, too. I didn’t think I would, once my balls are dead; do you think
they’re dead. Maybe, he didn’t kill them after all.”
“They’re dead,” said Jacob. “I think it takes a while for all the stuff your
balls make to get flushed out of you.”
“You do me, and I’ll do you,” said Zachary.
“What about Father?” said Jacob.
“I heard him leave the house. He’s probably doing chores. I think he didn’t
get us up because of the gelding. Do you still hurt?”
“A little – kind of deep inside me – but not too much. My balls don’t hurt. Do
yours?” asked Jacob.
“No,” said Zachary, “and I want to masturbate, more than ever. Isn’t that
weird? I was just gelded, and I want to masturbate more than before.”
“Fuck…I do, too,” said Jacob.
“You do me, and I’ll do you,” said Zachary.
“What about?” Jacob gestured toward Caleb’s bed with a flick of his head.
“Just don’t moan or anything. Did you know you moan, when you squirt?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do,” said Zachary. You even woke me up sometimes; then, I had to
masturbate to go back to sleep.” He wrapped his hand around Jacob’s cock.
“Mine’s bigger,” he said. “Mine fills my hand more. Do it, and you’ll see.”
Jacob wrapped his hand around Zachary’s cock. “It does feel bigger,” he said.
“That feels good,” said Zachary, “Do it.” He started pumping Jacob’s cock.
Jacob pumped his.”
After the first moan escaped Jacob’s mouth, Zachary clamped his hand over it.
Facing each other on their sides, he felt his brother’s hot spunk strike his
chest. He came, pumping his onto his brother. They each came two more times,
before they heard Caleb stir. Zachary, spunk all over his front, got up and
jumped into his bed.
“Good morning,” Caleb said, once his eyes were open; then, remembering the
night before, he threw back his covers. His small, limp, cock, hung to the
side, over, his little, black, balls. He touched them. “They don’t hurt,” he
said. “What’s that smell?”
Jacob looked at Zachary. “What smell? I don’t smell anything. Do you Zach?”
“No, I don’t smell anything,” said Zachary. Beneath the covers, he wiped spunk
– mostly his brother’s spunk – off on the sheet, glad for once, that he was
the one that changed them.
The boys dressed and went downstairs. Their mother smiled wanly, when she saw
them. “I guess I’ll never have grandchildren,” she said, “but it was for the
best. Your souls are more important than grandchildren. Are you still in
pain?”
“I’m not,” said Caleb, his usual, cheery, self. “I’m glad Father gelded me.”
“I hurt some,” said Jacob, “but not as bad as yesterday. It hurt so bad that I
threw up.”
“I did, too,” said Zachary.
“I didn’t,” said Caleb. He thrust out his chest. “It wasn’t all that bad.”
“You cried,” said Zachary.
“You did, too,” said Caleb. “So did Jacob.”
“At least, the worst is over,” said their mother. “Call your father, Caleb,
and have a seat at the table. Breakfast is ready.”
“Boys,” said their father, when he entered the dining room. “Are you in pain?”
“I’m not,” said Caleb.
“A little,” Jacob and Zachary agreed.
“I’ll want to examine you after breakfast,” Aaron said.
In the kitchen afterward, he had each boy drop his pants and climb up on the
counter. “Looks good,” he told each boy. “I think I’ll leave them alone for a
couple more days before cutting them off. It might hurt a little, when I do,
if I clip some live skin, but I’ll be careful. It won’t hurt near as much as
it did yesterday.
On Wednesday, Aaron cut off their balls. Even with their balls dead, Jacob and
Zachary had masturbated each day.
On Sunday, Reverend Gillis had the boys, along with their father, come down to
the front. “Brother Smith,” he said, “is a soldier in the army of Jesus
Christ. He is fighting the good fight. Caring only for the good of his sons,
he did what was right. He gelded his sons. The two older ones were
masturbating. The youngest one never will. They have all been gelded. He has
volunteered to geld any other boys that need it. I’m sure some of you know or
suspect your sons are masturbating. Brother Smith is a farmer. He has
experience gelding animals. As you can see, his sons, gelded last Sunday, are
doing well. Those of you that love your sons, those that care for their souls,
bring them down. We’ll begin the gelding today after services.”
A man, Brother Dawson, stood up. He pulled Clyde, his fifteen year-old, to his
feet. “No, Daddy, no. I don’t want to be gelded.”
“You’re masturbating,” said Mr. Dawson. “You think I don’t know, but I do.
It’s for the best; it’s to save your soul. Besides, look at those boys.
They’ve been gelded, and they don’t appear to have suffered for it.” He
dragged him down front.
Several other fathers dragged their sons down. Not all of the boys had hit
puberty. Their fathers, perhaps remembering their childhoods, knew how
difficult it had been to avoid masturbating. If gelded, maybe their sons
wouldn’t be tempted.
Twenty-two frightened boys – many of them crying – stood with their fathers in
front of the pulpit, each with his arm firmly held in his father’s grip. A
sixteen year-old, almost his father’s size, struggled. “Help me hold him,” his
father said. “He masturbates. To my shame, I’ve caught him doing it, and I
didn’t expose him. He desperately needs gelding.”
Two men rushed to his aid; one held the boy’s other arm. From behind, the
other put his arm around the boy’s neck. The kid couldn’t break free. “I’ll do
him first,” said Aaron Smith.
“Take them to the large classroom,” said Reverend Gillis. We’ve moved out the
chairs and moved in mattresses. The boys will need to stay a few days. Some of
the deacons and other volunteers will guard them. It’s best that the fathers
don’t stay. The boys will suffer some pain and beg to have the bands cut off;
but as you can see, these boys are fine;” he indicated the Smith boys; “and
they were gelded just last Sunday.”
“It hardly hurt at all,” said Caleb.
Both Jacob and Zachary shot him a look. Like them, Caleb had wailed during the
first several hours, after their father had banded them. OK, maybe he hadn’t
hurt as much as they had, but his balls hadn’t been mature either.
“Has it stopped your masturbation?” a man asked him.
“Oh, I never did it,” said Caleb. “I’m too young. Father gelded me, so I’d
never start. Jacob and Zach masturbated, though. They did it all the time. I
would have told, but I didn’t know that’s what they were doing. I heard their
beds creak at night, but I didn’t know they were masturbating. I think they’re
still doing it. One time, when they thought I was asleep, I saw Zach crawl in
bed with Jacob. His thing was hard – he has a really big one. Jacob’s bed
started shaking, and after a while, he moaned. Zach put his hand over Jacob’s
mouth, but I could still hear him. I could see Jacob going like this,” he made
thrusting motions with his hips, “under the covers. I told Father, but he said
that it takes a while for the tes-testoserone,” he looked at his father.”
“Testosterone,” Aaron said.
“Testosterone to get flushed out,” Caleb continued. “He said after a few
weeks, they wouldn’t want to do it, and if they kept it up, he’d cut off their
pricks. He doesn’t want to do that, because they’d make a mess when they peed.
When the tes-testos - whatever – gets flushed out, they won’t want to
masturbate. I’m glad he gelded me, before I started doing it. I don’t think I
would have; they really act weird, when they do it; and it stinks. I can smell
the stuff they shoot. I asked Father, and he said it was sperm. I looked at
their sheets, and they had spots on them. The spots were dried and the sheets
were stiff where the spots were, and they stunk. It was the same smell I
smelled, when Jacob moaned.”
“They still masturbate, even though they’re gelded?” a man asked.
“Caleb says they do,” said Aaron, “and I have no reason to disbelieve him. If
they do it again, I’ll cut off their pricks. Do you hear me, boys?” he said
looking at Zachary and Jacob. “No more. It’s got to stop right now.”
“Yes, Father,” said Jacob.
“Yes, Father,” said Zachary.
The classroom was in the basement. With the doors guarded, there was no way
out. After the fathers, satisfied by examining the three Smith boys that Aaron
knew his craft left, Aaron started.
Each boy was stripped. The sixteen year-old was first. Held by three men, his
struggles were useless. Aaron pulled his balls through the ring and released
it. The ring snapped shut around the top of his ball sac. The boy, Ethan Haws,
screamed. He was put into a straitjacket, and sat on a mattress.
Before long, all twenty-two boys, wearing straitjackets and bands around their
ball sacs, sat, lay, and squirmed, on mattresses on the floor.
The deacons were kept busy cleaning up puke and shit and mopping up piss, when
some of the boys lost control of their bladder and bowels. Jacob, Zachary, and
Caleb had to help.
Clad only in the straitjackets, the groins, cocks, and balls of the boys were
exposed. Several of them had erections. A couple had ejaculated. One of them
was a boy whose cock, balls, and pubic hair had just begun to grow.
“Is that sperm?” Caleb asked Jacob. “Is that what you and Zachary spurt? How
come he spurted? They can’t masturbate with those straitjackets on.”
“Yeah, that’s spunk or sperm. I don’t know why he spurted. I used to have wet
dreams. I used to spurt without masturbating.”
“Are you going to stop masturbating?”
“Are you going to tell Father, if I don’t?” asked Jacob.
“I have to tell him if you do,” said Caleb, “to save your soul. I love you. I
don’t want you to go to Hell.”
“I know,” said Jacob. “I’ll try to stop.”
The next Sunday, twenty-five boys – including the three Smith boys – stood in
front of the congregation. None of them had balls. Watched over by the
deacons, none of them, the Smith brothers included, masturbated during the
week. One had a wet dream, but he was one of the few that had never
masturbated. He usually had a wet dream every couple of weeks.
“We’ll set aside the first week of each month for gelding boys,” said Reverend
Gillis. “If you really love your son, you’ll have him gelded. As long as they
have testicles, few boys are able to resist masturbating. Better they lose
their gonads than spend eternity in Hell.”
By the time school started, one hundred five boys in the congregation had been
castrated. It had been a month and a half since the Smith boys had lost their
balls. Jacob still masturbated but only once or twice a week and never around
Caleb or even Zachary. Zachary masturbated occasionally, but he didn’t tell
Jacob. Neither boy wanted his cock cut off. Each boy did it in the bathtub,
where there was little chance he’d be caught.
Each of the brothers had pink, puckered, scars, where his balls had been.
Caleb’s scar was smaller, and would probably one day disappear; after all, his
balls had been small.
“Will you need a jock strap?” Coach Johnson asked Jacob, when he issued gym
clothes. He knew the boy had been castrated. Freedom of Religion allowed
parents to castrate their sons, but the authorities and schools had to be
notified. On the form Coach Johnson held, a box to Jacob’s name had
‘Neutered?’ across the top. Below it, ‘yes’ was checked.
“When were you castrated?” he asked. “As I remember, last year you had balls.”
“About a month and a half ago,” said Jacob. He heard the murmurs of the boys
in line behind him.
“Quiet, Boys,” said Coach Johnson. “I don’t want any of you giving Smith a
hard time because he no longer has balls. There are some of you that should be
castrated. Most of you think with your cocks, not with your brains.”
Castration was being discussed in Coach Johnson’s church, and Coach Johnson
was in favor of it for most boys. For too many years, he’d seen the effect
puberty had on boys. It turned sweet kids into assholes. He couldn’t think of
one boy whose behavior had been improved by going through puberty.
“Do you want a jock strap?”
“I don’t guess so,” said Jacob. He just took a pair of shorts, socks, and a
t-shirt. He could wear his own underwear.
“Did you really have your nuts cut off, Sam Rogers asked him, walking back
with Jacob to the locker room.
“Yeah,” said Jacob.
“Did it hurt?”
“Yeah.”
“Can I see?”
“Not much to see,” said Jacob.
“Let me see anyway,” said Sam.
Jacob shrugged. “OK.”
Several boys gathered around while Jacob pulled off his jeans. Since he didn’t
need a jock strap, he didn’t need to take off his underwear, but they had to
shower before returning to class, so the other boys would eventually see his
ball-less crotch anyway. He pulled down his underwear.
“Shit,” said Sam, holding his balls. Sam’s cock was hard. It pressed against
his underwear. “Who did it?”
“My father,” said Jacob.
“Why?”
Jacob’s face turned red. “For masturbating,” he said. “In our church,
masturbation is a sin.”
“You got your balls cut off for jacking off?” said a boy. “If that’s a sin, a
lot of us are going to Hell.” He looked around. “I’ll bet every boy in this
room jacks off. You jack off, don’t you, Sam?”
“Hell, yes,” said Sam. “Your dad really cut off your balls for jacking off?”
“Yeah,” said Jacob. “Does your father know you masturbate?”
Sam shrugged. “I don’t know. He never said anything. My mother once said I was
spending too much time in the bathroom; and she said that right after I had
been in there jacking off. I think she knew what I was doing, but I don’t
think she would cut off my balls for doing it.”
Jacob looked around at the other boys. “Do all of you masturbate?”
A couple of boys looked at each other. One boy shrugged. “Sure,” he said, all
boys jack off. My dad said it was natural for boys our age. I’ve been jacking
off since I was twelve. My dad caught me doing it once. That’s when he told me
it was normal for boys my age to do it. ‘Just don’t get it all over your
sheets,” he told me. ‘Keep a roll of towels or tissues beside your bed,’ so I
keep a box of tissues beside my bed. I jack off two or three times a day. Do
you still jack off?” he asked Jacob.
Jacob looked around to make certain no one from his church was present.
“Sometimes, but not as much as before. I used to jack off,” he said, using
that term for the first time, “two or three times a day. Now, I do it a couple
of times a week.”
“Can you shoot?” Sam asked.
“A little,” said Jacob. “Not as much as before. I used to shoot three or four
feet; now, just a little dribbles out, and it’s not as white and creamy as it
was before. I could probably go longer without jacking off, but I still like
it. It still feels good.”
“Jeez,” said another boy. “I hope I don’t have my balls cut off. Sometimes, my
dad says he’s gonna, but it’s not a religious thing with him. He thinks it
would improve my behavior. I guess all a guy’s father has to do is say it’s a
religious decision, and he can have his son’s balls cut off. Sometimes, I
think he’s kidding, but sometimes I think he’s serious. Do you think it’s
changed how you act?”
Jacob shrugged. “I don’t know – maybe. I don’t get mad like I used to, and I
don’t fight with my brothers like I used to. Maybe having my balls cut off has
changed the way I act. In some ways, it’s not so bad. I used to have to
masturbate – jack off. Now, I only do it when I want to. In some ways, it’s
kind of cool not having balls.” He slapped himself below his cock. “No balls
to get hit in,” he said. He grinned.
“That part’s cool,” said Sam. “I hate to get hit in the balls.”
The coach came over, breaking up the conversation. “Nice,” he said, looking at
Jacob’s crotch. “I think he looks good without balls. What do you guys think?”
“I think it’s cool,” said one of the boys, Kevin Johns. “I wish I didn’t have
balls.”
“You’re crazy,” said another. “No one is cutting off my balls.”
“I think he looks cool without balls,” said Kevin. “I never liked mine.” If
Jacob hadn’t been castrated, he would have never admitted to the other boys he
didn’t want balls. All boys seemed to think losing their balls would be the
worst possible thing – next to losing their cocks – that could happen. Jacob
had lost his, and the world hadn’t ended.
After gym class, Kevin caught up with Jacob. “Do you think your dad would
castrate me?”
“I don’t know,” said Jacob. “You want to be castrated – really?”
“Yeah,” said Kevin. “I never liked having balls. I tried cutting them off
once, but I only made a little cut and freaked out when I started bleeding.
Does it hurt?”
“Yeah,” said Jacob, “a lot at first – the way my father does it, with bands -
but that’s mostly the first day. When he actually cut them off, they were
dead, and it didn’t hurt much, a little maybe, when he trimmed too close to
live skin.”
“I think it’s cool the way he did it,” said Kevin. “I saw a kid once that had
been castrated, but they left his empty sac. I’d rather have mine cut off like
yours. Do you think your father will do me?”
“What would your father say?”
“I don’t know,” said Kevin. “I don’t think he’d let me do it.”
“I know,” said Jacob. “Do you belong to a church?”
“No,” said Kevin. “My parents aren’t religious.”
“Join our church; then it’s a religious decision on your part; and your father
couldn’t do anything to stop it. Any kid over thirteen can join whichever
church he wants - if he doesn’t belong to one - with or without his parent’s
approval. Do you jack off?”
“Yeah,” said Kevin, “but I don’t like it. That’s another reason I want to be
castrated. I once jacked off nine times in one day; I jacked off so much, I
rubbed my dick raw.”
“Come to my church with me next Sunday,” said Jacob. “My dad is gelding more
boys next week. You can join and get gelded all in the same day. It’s gonna
hurt, though.”
“I don’t care,” said Kevin. “I want to get it done.”
“Don’t tell him I’m still jacking off,” said Jacob.
“Don’t worry. I won’t,” said Kevin.
The next Sunday, Kevin went down to the front of the congregation twice, once
to join and once to volunteer to be gelded.
Since he volunteered, no one put a straitjacket on him.
“Hurts, don’t it?” said Jacob, sitting on the mattress beside him.
Through gritted teeth, Kevin said, “Yeah.”
At school the next day, Sam and two boys stopped Jacob in the hallway. “Did he
do it? Did Kevin do it?” Sam asked.
“Yeah,” said Jacob. I stayed with him last night. His balls are dead for sure.
They’re all black. My father will cut them off in a few days.”
“What did his father say?”
“He came to the church with him, and brought along his wife and his other
sons. I think he’s cool with it. I wouldn’t be surprised if he joins our
church. If he does, he might have his other sons done.
“You really don’t mind being castrated?” Eric Jones, one of the boys asked.
“I thought I’d hate it,” said Jacob, but it’s really kind of cool. I like not
having balls hanging from my crotch. You know how they’re always getting
caught in your underwear or pinched when you sit down. I don’t have to worry
about that anymore.”
“What about jacking off? You don’t get horny like you did, do you? When did
you jack off last?”
Jacob had to think for a minute. “I guess it’s been over a week. I’ve been
busy and haven’t thought about doing it. It’s hard to explain, but it’s really
different, now. I don’t have to do it; I could probably go a month without
jacking off. I only do it, when I think about it. It still feels good;
sometimes better than before. It takes longer for me to cum, but when I do,
it’s great. Sometimes, it’s like every cell in my body is having its own
orgasm. Before, it was all in my cock. Yeah, orgasms are much better. I guess
– I guess I’m glad my father did it. Yeah, it’s cool not having balls.”
“It really feels that good to jack off?” said Eric.
“Yeah,” said Jacob. “I – I didn’t realize until just now how much I like being
gelded. I thought guys would make fun of me – OK, I get teased a little, but I
don’t mind. I like the way I look without balls, and I realize, now, how big a
pain having them was. It’s cool.”
“I think you look cool without them,” said Eric.
“Really?” said Jacob.
“Do you think your dad would do me?”
Sam turned, looking at Eric. “You, too, Jones? What the fuck?”
“What’s the downside to it, Rogers?” Eric asked. “He can still jack off; no
one can hit him in the balls.”
“He can’t have kids,” said Sam.
“Who wants to have kids? Will your father do me?” he asked Jacob.
“Does your father care?” asked Jacob.
“Nah, he wants me to get it done. He thinks it would be good for me.”
“Come home with me after school. I’m sure my dad would do you. He never said
so, but I think he gets off on castrating boys. He’s done enough of them, over
a hundred at our church.”
“You really going to do it?” asked Sam.
“Yeah,” said Eric. “Come along. He can do you, too. Your father won’t care. I
heard him tell you he wanted you done.”
“Did he really?” asked Jacob.
“Yeah,” said Sam. “After I told him about you, he said he’d like to have me
done, but our church hasn’t approved castration yet. They’re talking about it,
but they haven’t approved it yet. Would I have to wait until Sunday to join?”
“Not really,” said Jacob. “My father is a church elder. Since he started doing
the castrations, he’s second only to Reverend Gillis. He can accept you into
the church and castrate tonight. I’m sure he’ll do it.”
“Does it really hurt?”
“Yeah,” said Jacob, “but it’s worth it.” Jacob was amazed by his own words,
but he believed them. He WAS glad he’d been gelded. “Father did my little
brother. If he can put up with it, you can.”
“Why doesn’t he use something to deaden the pain?” asked Sam.
“It’s like a rite of passage, Father says. It won’t mean as much to you, if it
doesn’t hurt. It’s not like you remember the pain. I remember that it hurt,
but I don’t remember the pain itself.”
“What does it feel like?” asked Eric.
“Like getting hit in the balls real hard. It made me sick to my stomach; I
puked; but by the next day, most of the hurt was gone.” He thumped Sam in the
balls with the back of his hand, as boys are wont to do. He grinned when Sam
doubled over. “If you have them cut off, no one can do that to you.”
“OK,” said Sam, “I’ll do it.”
“Really?” said Jacob.
“Yeah,” said Sam. “If Eric does it, I will. I don’t want to go through it by
myself.”
“I’ll stay with you,” Jacob said.
“I’ll do it,” said Eric.
“Cool,” said Jacob. ‘Cool’ wasn’t a word he’d use at home. “Including Kevin,
that will be four of us.” Almost all the boys in his church that had been
castrated went to other schools. His brother, Zachary, wasn’t yet in middle
school. “We’ll be the ball-less wonders.”
He called his father, who was ready for them when they arrived. Taking them to
the barn, he inducted the boys into the church, telling them, “Once I start,
there’s no backing out. I’m going to lock you in this room,” he showed them
the room, “and I won’t let you out until morning. There’s a bucket in there if
you need to pee. It’s best that you don’t have supper.”
“I’ll stay with them,” said Jacob.
“I will, too,” said Zachary, who had come along to the barn.
“Me, too,” said Caleb, but Jacob, who didn’t trust Caleb to keep his mouth
shut, in case Sam or Eric mentioned anything about jacking off, vetoed that.
“No, they’re my friends. Zach can stay, but that’s all.”
“But, I helped at the church,” said Caleb.
“There’s just the two of them. We don’t need your help,” said Jacob.
Caleb watched, though, while his father banded the boys. Before they could
change their minds, Aaron locked them in the room.
“Shit, it hurts,” said Sam. “I didn’t know it would hurt so much. Call your
dad. Have him take it off?” He clawed at the band with his fingernails. They
made no impression on it.
“He’s in the house,” said Jacob. “He won’t come out until morning. By then,
your balls will be dead.”
“Shit, shit, shit,” said Sam. He puked. After he did, so did Eric.
They didn’t sleep much, but by morning, most of the pain had eased. Each boy
had a dull ache deep inside, but their balls no longer hurt. They could
squeeze them and not feel it. Their ball sacs had turned almost black.
Neither boy felt like eating breakfast, but each had some juice. At lunch,
each ate a couple of sandwiches, and Jacob’s mother cooked them a big dinner.
By then, the two newly gelded boys, their black balls hidden beneath their
shorts, were laughing and joking.
“I’m proud of you boys,” Jacob’s mother said. “Now, you can avoid the sin of
masturbation.”
Looking at Jacob, Sam rolled his eyes. He was looking forward to one of those
orgasms Jacob had described, one of those in which every cell had its own
orgasm. He had no intention of ceasing masturbation.
Jacob frowned. His look said, Don’t say anything.
On Thursday, Aaron cut off their balls. Sam’s father came by on Friday. After
looking at his son’s crotch, he said, “Nice job. I’m sure it’s for the best.
You never handled puberty well. I wish I’d had you done before you started it.
Are you OK with it?”
“Yeah,” said Sam. “I don’t really feel any different yet, but I like not
having balls. I like how I look in the mirror. Jacob and Zachary look cool
without them. Even Caleb looks neat.” He laughed. “You should see his little
dick. I mean, I’ve seen little kids before, but I’ve never seen one that had
no balls. His dick is only about this long.” He held his thumb and forefinger
about an inch and a half apart. “It won’t ever get much longer, I guess.
Caleb,” he yelled. “Come show Dad your crotch.”
Caleb came in and dropped his drawers. He was proud that he’d been gelded.
He’d show anyone that asked to see.
On Sunday, Eric and Sam went to church with the Smiths. They were doubly
welcomed, as members and as castrates. Kevin was there with his mother,
father, and two younger brothers, only one of which had reached puberty.
“Dad’s going to have them done next month,” Kevin said. “He sees how happy
it’s made me, and Alex has been a real shit since he started puberty. Dad’s
sure it will help straighten him out.”
“You really like it?” asked Jacob.
“Oh, yeah, I love it.” You guys really did it?” he asked Sam and Eric.
“Yeah,” they answered.
“Cool,” Kevin said, “I thought I was the only one that wanted to be rid of my
balls.”
“I didn’t think I did,” said Sam, “but when my dad heard about Jacob, he
wanted me to get castrated. He says he wished he’d had me done before I
started puberty. He said he liked me a lot better then. I guess I have been a
shit since puberty. The more I thought about it, the more it sounded cool. I
liked how Jacob looked without balls. It turned me on. Balls are kind of ugly,
aren’t they?”
The following month, Kevin’s brothers were castrated, along with fifteen boys
from the church and two more boys from Jacob’s school. One boy from Zachary’s
school was castrated at the church, and four more were castrated by their
family physicians. The change in Zachary’s behavior had made a favorable
impression on his teachers, and they had recommended castration to the parents
of some of their more troublesome students.
Within a year, four more churches had approved castration for various reasons,
including the prevention of masturbation. If a school recommended castration
of students that misbehaved, it was generally done. Pretty well, either the
parents allowed it, or they found another school for their son.
In his ninth grade gym class, Jacob looked around the locker room. Almost half
the boys had been castrated. Some of them, like Jacob, had no scrotums. Some
had empty ones, empty folds of skin hanging from their cocks. Jacob was glad
his father had cut off his scrotum. On a hot day, an empty scrotum stuck to a
boy’s legs.
Jacob continued to masturbate, not often, every week or so. He got careless.
Caleb saw him doing it and told his father. Aaron took Jacob to a doctor that
belonged to the church. He specialized in penectomies. Other boys, like Jacob,
hadn’t been cured of masturbation by castration.
It was a simple penectomy. Jacob’s penis was cut off flush with the skin of
his crotch. He was given a silver plug, which he used to keep his pee hole
open. After he got used to having no cock – learning to pee without one was a
problem – it was kind of cool to be smooth.
His mother waxed his pubic hair for him. It hurt like hell the first time she
did it, but not as much hair grew back, and it seemed to pull out easier after
that.
He loved his bare, smooth crotch. The plug looked like a body piercing of some
kind.
Caleb liked how Jacob looked and bugged his father, until Aaron let the doctor
do him. Since Aaron was a church elder and had castrated hundreds of boys, he
wasn’t charged for the penectomies.
Aaron decided to have Zachary done at the same time, even though Zachary
hadn’t been caught masturbating. No sense taking chances with the boy’s soul.
Jacob had his penectomy during the summer. He liked how he looked, and since
it had been a couple of years since he had been gelded, he really didn’t miss
masturbating. It was, after all, a waste of time.
In gym class, he stood in his underwear looking at naked boys. Some had balls.
Many didn’t. All had cocks. They’re ugly, he thought. Cocks are ugly, stupid,
things. He was glad to be rid of his. He slid off his underwear.
“Fuck!” said Kevin, when he saw. “You had a penectomy. Fucking cool! I want
one.”
* * * |
The Tribes, Chapter 8 | TESTICLES | The Fixer\'s humiliation continues as Jack, Bray, and Sasha watch. A face from Jack\'s past goes on the block. | ` `
The Tribes 08b
Within a week, Fixer had been thoroughly humiliated. All of his body hair had
been auctioned off and shaved from him publicly as Inferno patrons watched,
laughed, and jeered. Even his eyebrows and eyelashes had been auctioned off
for only two batteries. Finally, his last night had come around. Inferno was
packed so tight it was hard for people to move. Announcements had been made
all week that Fixer’s balls were up for auction at last. Before being brought
up to the stage, Zoot’s guards had specially prepared Fixer by shaving him
smooth from head to toe. A ridiculous clown smile had been painted on his face
in red lipstick. His dick was pulled up towards his chin and duct taped to his
belly, leaving his balls open to public scrutiny. Then, before the club opened
its doors, he had been carried up to the posts and shackled spread-eagle for
all to see. Then, the doors were opened to the masses.
Sasha was one of the people in the crowd. While scouting the city during the
week, he’d heard stories about what had happened to Lobo and what was in store
for Fixer. Fixer had been the one who had arranged that Sasha be captured and
sold to Top Hat as a slave to Tribe Circus. Hearing the rumors, he’d reported
them to the other Shiprats and announced he’d be in the crowd that night. Of
course, most of the others had insisted he not risk going to Inferno –
claiming, probably rightly, that it could be dangerous. In the end, they knew
there was no way to prevent Sasha from going to Inferno if that’s what he
really wanted.
And so, Sasha had found himself a corner where he could watch the events
unfold. So far, all of the rumors he’d heard had been pretty accurate. Inferno
was controlled by the Loco Tribe now, the Devil Dogs were already a bad
memory. And, a barely recognizable Fixer was bound spread eagle between two
heavy posts on the stage. Almost every patron had something of value to use
during the bidding. The Emcee was on stage, urging patrons to step up and
examine Fixer’s balls for themselves before the bidding began. Sasha was
surprised to find himself feeling sorry for Fixer – the former club manager
had literally been stripped of everything and by the end of the night, he’d
lose his balls as well. A wide strip of duct tape across Fixer’s mouth
prevented him from screaming out, but even from across the large room Sasha
could see the signs of terror on his face.
Sasha was staring hard at the object of everyone’s attention when a hand
tugged at his arm. Absently, Sasha shrugged the tugging hand away. He felt the
tug again and without taking his eyes off the scene on the stage, slapped at
the hand. He thought he had heard his name called, but it was hard to hear
anything above the din of the crowd. The hand grabbed him again, this time
almost tugging him off his feet. Annoyed, Sasha turned and found himself
staring into Jack’s hooded face. Behind Jack stood Bray.
Jack leaned close until his lips brushed Sasha’s ear, “This isn’t safe.”
Sasha shook his head as he shouted, “I can’t leave – I have to see this
through.”
“I know,” Jack shouted back, nodding his head. “But, your back is against the
wall – if something happens – no escape.” Jack pointed towards one of the
front windows. “There is safer – c’mon. This way.”
For the first time, Sasha realized he had placed himself in a position from
which there was no escape if things got out of hand. Bray cleared a way
through the crowd towards the window. When they were finally seated next to
the window, Jack pulled the hood of his cloak back for the first time. The
noise wasn’t quite as bad here and they could almost converse in just raised
voices, without having to shout into each other’s ears.
“Why are you here?” Sasha asked.
“Cuz, you’re here,” Jack said simply.
“And, I’m here because Jack’s here,” Bray added. “We’re Tribemates – we stick
by each other.”
Before any of them could say anything else, their attention was drawn to the
stage when the Emcee bounded onto the stage, his old-fashioned megaphone in
one hand. He welcomed the crowd to the show, promising a special pre-auction
treat. Off to the side of the stage, a couple of drums began beating a
rhythmic tattoo as Ebony sauntered onto the stage, her arms held high. She
beamed down at the audience, flashing her teeth in a parody of a smile.
Clapping her hands, two Locos appeared pushing a small wheeled cart laden with
Ebony’s piercing equipment.
“We all know how Fixer led everyone around by the nose for so long,” Ebony
called out, her voice easily carrying to the back of the room. “As everyone
knows, turnabout is fair play.” Behind her, Fixer began to shake his head from
side to side in growing terror as she lifted a large silver ring from the
cart, holding it high above her head for everyone to see. At a nod of her
head, the largest of the Loco assistants stepped behind Fixer and wrapped his
powerful arms around Fixer’s bald head, holding it steady. Even though his
mouth was securely taped, everyone could tell the former club manager was
screaming for all he was worth. The cords in his neck stood out clearly as his
face turned a dark red.
“Ring him … Ring him,” the audience chanted as Ebony lifted a wicked-looking
ice pick. Fixer’s body shook wildly in his bonds as he tried vainly to free
himself and escape his torture. His penis shrank to almost nothing in his fear
when Ebony stepped up to him. She traced the ice pick down the middle of his
forehead, along the bridge of his nose and let it rest on the tip of his
upturned nose. Suddenly, Ebony jumped back with a loud curse which startled
the crowd for a moment. Craning his neck, Bray saw the reason for her sudden
movement – Fixer’s bladder had voided itself. From Ebony’s reaction, the
former club manager had peed all over her before she managed to jump clear of
the gushing stream of urine that shot straight up from Fixer’s cock. It took
several moments before she regained her composure.
“Looks like things aren’t going according to plan,” Jack said.
Onstage, Ebony barked orders to the other Loco guard who jumped to obey. He
lifted a butane torch from the cart and lit it, adjusting the flame until it
burned bright blue. He held the torch out as Ebony placed the ice pick in the
flame, letting it glow to a brilliant red. With the pick glowing brightly,
Ebony spun on her heel and rammed it through Fixer’s septum in one even
stroke. Fixer’s body seemed to convulse as the ice pick was passed through his
nose and pulled back out again. Bray thought the placing of the ring would be
anticlimactic to the audience.
He was wrong.
Fixer’s ringing only seemed to get the crowd eager for more. They began
cheering and calling for the start of the auction. The Emcee knew when to play
to the crowd to keep them pleased. He immediately began calling for bids –
describing how large Fixer’s balls were, implying they were worth large
initial bids. And, he was getting them. The three Shiprats were amazed at the
value of the items being placed as bids – one bidder offered three twenty-four
volt car batteries for the right to be the one to operate the garden shears.
Those three batteries could be traded for enough food to feed the bidder for
almost a month. The bidding started frantic and stayed that way, making it
hard for the Emcee to accurately keep track of them all. Periodically, the
Emcee would look towards the rear of the club before accepting a bid.
Following the Emcee’s gaze, Sasha saw Zoot sitting with a white-haired teen.
They’d put their heads together conferring over the bid. Occasionally, the
white-haired kid would consult a notebook and either nod his assent or shake
his head in disapproval. At that point, Zoot would gesture whether the Emcee
could accept or refuse the bid. Sasha figured the white-haired teen was
Fixer’s replacement.
The bids stopped dead when a voice shouted out, “Two cases of Bud and three
slaves.” Immediately, the Emcee’s head snapped to the rear of the club as if
it were on a string. Jack and Sasha turned to look at each other, their eyes
round with fright.
“Top Hat!” Jack said, in shock as he scanned the crowd. His fingers trembled
as he raised the hood of his cloak, hiding his face deep in the shadows of the
hood.
Every eye in the audience turned towards Zoot to see what his answer would be.
Glancing over in his direction, Sasha saw he was deep in conference with the
new manager. Finally, he nodded.
“Show us the slaves,” Zoot said.
“Top Hat has no objection,” the leader of Tribe Circus said, rising from his
table close to the stage and placing his trademark hat back on his head. Jack
realized that was how he had missed seeing the psychopath earlier. Top Hat
jabbed his crop towards the stage. Almost immediately, two of the clowns
bounced up to follow their leader’s instructions. Bruno lumbered to his feet
and trudged towards the stage as well.
Jack’s face drained of all color at seeing the huge bodybuilder. For a moment,
he thought he was going to vomit all over himself. He became aware of Sasha
slapping his arm and pointing at the stage. He nodded to indicate he saw
Bruno. It was only when one of the clowns jabbed a cattle prod in Bruno’s ribs
that Jack noticed the metal collar around the bodybuilder’s neck. He took his
place sullenly onstage next to two of Top Hat’s other slaves. Jack didn’t
recognize the other two slaves as members of Tribe Circus, so he correctly
assumed they were just two unfortunates Top Hat had captured.
Zoot stood, “Bruno is one of the slaves? I thought he was your Number Two at
the circus.”
Top Hat leapt to the stage and bowed theatrically, “Was Top Hat’s second is
correct. But, he’s proved unreliable in that position. He tried to take what
wasn’t his and let two slaves escape. Besides losing my trust, he lost
something of value to him.” Top Hat prodded Bruno with his crop. “Show the
good people what you lost, pig.”
Bruno glumly remained motionless, his head bowed until one of the clowns
jabbed him in the side with the cattle prod. The body builder moodily undid
his pants and dropped them to reveal his mutilated penis. A gasp of surprise
from the audience was immediately followed by titters of laughter at seeing
that over half of his dick was missing.
“Top Hat has grown tired of finding new ways to punish this pig,” the Tribe
Circus leader shouted. “As you can see, he is strong – as are the other two.
The trade seems to be fair, wouldn’t you say?”
Zoot remained silent as he stared at the stage. Finally he spoke, “And why are
you so eager to win this auction?”
“A personal matter,” Top Hat said. “Fixer insulted Top Hat – for that, he
deserves punishment at Top Hat’s hands.”
Zoot nodded, “Reason enough. The trade is fair – accept it as a bid, Emcee.”
Even though the Emcee tried his best to get the bidding to resume, not a
single counterbid was entered. Jack was pretty sure no one was willing to risk
the wrath of the psychopath in the silk top hat who had remained standing on
the stage. Finally, the Emcee called the auction in Top Hat’s favor. The Tribe
Circus leader broke out in maniacal laughter over his victory, stalking around
his prize – poking and prodding Fixer, running his hands over Fixer’s smooth
body. Top Hat took up a position behind the former club manager, watching over
Fixer’s shoulder as Ebony reappeared and began preparations for the
castration.
The audience howled with laughter at Fixer’s discomfort as Ebony wrapped the
wire tie around the top of his scrotum and Top Hat began licking Fixer’s bald
head in between leering glances out to the audience. As for Fixer, the crowd
roared with guffaws at the way his eyes seemed to bug out and roll around –
especially when Top Hat reached around and tugged on Fixer’s nose ring. When
the Emcee appeared with the long-bladed garden shears, Top Hat actually did a
gleeful little jig, clapping his hands excitedly. He eagerly took the shears
from the Emcee and continued dancing his manic jig, rapidly opening and
closing the blades as he chanted “Chop chop! Chop chop!” It wasn’t long before
the audience joined in the chant.
“Chop chop!” The crowd sang out in lusty refrain to Top Hat’s chant. When he
had the audience worked into a frenzy, Top Hat suddenly froze – his arms and
legs spread wide and head thrown back. The audience immediately grew silent in
expectation. Slowly, Top Hat tilted his head down to stare out at the audience
– his mouth stretched wide in an insane grin, eyes wide and bulging. With no
warning, Top Hat pirouetted on the ball of his foot, convulsively jerking the
blades wide open and thrusting them unerringly at Fixer’s scrotum. Top Hat’s
narrow shoulders hunched and the blades snapped together.
Jack felt sick at the crowd’s cheers as Fixer’s scrotum and balls dropped to
the stage. He couldn’t get the image of the ex-manager’s limbs twitching
uncontrollably in his bonds in abject terror seconds before the blades snapped
closed, removing his manhood. Pulling his cloak close around his body, Jack
pushed his way through the throngs of people in a dash to escape. Bray tugged
Sasha’s sleeve, pulling the juggler along as he followed Jack into the street.
Once outside, Bray looked around for Jack and began growing worried when he
couldn’t immediately see him. The sound of retching drifted out of the alley.
Peering around the corner, Bray found Jack doubled over being violently sick.
Bray waited until the sound of gagging subsided before gently leading Jack
from the alley. None of them spoke as they made their way back to the Queen
Mary.
Once safely back aboard the ship, Jack retreated to the Purser’s office,
locking the door behind him. He remained behind the locked door for three
days, ignoring requests that he open the door or come out to eat. As far as
Bray knew, Jack was neither eating nor sleeping while he was locked up. He
never answered shouts through the door, and seemed to not hear when Tribe
members pounded on the door for up to ten minutes at a time. There was some
concern that Jack might have been pushed over the edge and harmed himself.
When she pressed her ear to the door, Amber reported she could hear Jack
moving around in the office.
Unable to sleep, Bray found himself wandering around the Boat Deck just before
dawn. Jack had been gone from his bed for the last three days – that alone was
enough to make it hard for Bray to sleep. But, his growing worry that Jack was
teetering on the edge of sanity gnawed at his mind and made sleep almost
impossible. Cutting through the bridge from the starboard to port side of the
ship, Bray saw a figure leaning over the port bridge wing. Quietly moving
closer, Bray saw that it was Jack. He called out twice but Jack still didn’t
respond. When Bray was standing directly behind Jack at last, he discovered
why Jack hadn’t responded – he was wearing earphones connected to a portable
CD player.
Jack started violently when Bray laid a hand on his shoulder, then pulled the
earphones down around his neck. Bray could hear heavy strains of classical
music thundering through the headset. It was a wonder Jack wasn’t deaf, he
thought. Jack silently handed Bray the thermos cup of coffee he’d been nursing
between his hands.
“Everyone’s been worried about you, Jack. I’ve been worried about you,” Bray
said softly.
Jack seemed not to hear what Bray was saying, “Things out there are getting
worse and worse all the time,” Jack said, out of the blue. “I thought the time
after the last adults disappeared was as bad as it could get. I kind of
figured everyone would kind of get sorted out and things would eventually
settle down. But, it hasn’t.”
“Is that what you’ve been doing for the past three days?” Bray asked,
incredulously. “Worrying about what’s going on out there?”
“Three days?” Jack seemed amazed. “I didn’t know it was that long.”
“What have you been doing all that time?” Bray demanded.
“Listening to Beethoven.” Jack replied.
“Listening to Beethoven?” Bray repeated, in wonder.
“Did you know that Beethoven went deaf – I don’t mean hard of hearing, but
actually stone deaf?” Jack asked, his voice tinged with amazement. Bray
nodded, he’d heard that in school. “And yet, he still composed some of the
greatest music ever created after he lost his hearing. Do you know what he
did? He cut the legs off his piano and laid on the floor with he head resting
on the piano as he composed so he could feel the music.”
“That’s good to know, Jack,” Bray said, beginning to grow impatient. “But,
what does that have to do with anything?”
“You don’t get it,” Jack said sadly. “The man was faced with a major problem –
a problem that would have ended the careers of most other people!”
“Yeah, and he cut the legs off a piano,” Bray shot back.
“NO!” Jack cried out. “He found a way to solve the problem. He thought outside
the box and came up with a way to continue living. He wrote even more powerful
music, see? And, when he conducted an orchestra playing his music, he could
feel the vibrations in the air. He solved his problems and was even better
than he was before.”
“So, where is this going?”
“You know why everyone was bidding on what was happening the other night, and
cheering so much?” Jack asked, seeming to change the subject.
“No, why?”
“Because they have nothing better to do,” Jack answered. “Worse, they don’t
have anything better to hope for – they don’t think they have a future. So,
watching someone else suffer makes them feel better about themselves.”
Bray was taken aback by Jack’s observations. Like the other Shiprats, he knew
things were getting worse, he just hadn’t taken the time to figure out why.
Jack, the problem solver – on the other hand, had holed up and examined the
problem and reached an answer.
“So what do we do?” Bray asked.
“We give them a reason to think there could be a future,” Jack said, shrugging
as if the answer was obvious. “See, right now, almost everyone is trying to
scrounge enough just to get by on a day-to-day basis. And, the trading that
goes on – well, it’s disorganized. Everyone out there is only trading tangible
things – one pack of batteries for a can of stew or something.”
“Yeah?”
“What about those that don’t have anything to trade?” Jack asked. “They go
hungry – that’s what. Or else they steal from someone else. But, they don’t
have to. They could trade their labor for food.”
“I guess they could,” Bray agreed, realizing Jack already had an idea in mind.
Jack pointed out to the large parking lot next to the ship’s permanent berth,
“Look at all that empty space – we could make part of it a marketplace. A
place people could rent a stall or cart or kiosk to trade their goods or
skills.” He turned to face Bray for the first time, revealing dark circles
under his bright, shining eyes. “There’s farmers out there, raising chickens
and crops, you and Sasha both said so – they need a place to trade their
goods.”
Bray nodded, he and Sasha had come across some groups starting to raise crops
and even animals as they explored for supplies for the Tribe. What Jack was
saying made sense – it could work.
“Where are we going to get these stalls and carts and stuff?” Bray asked.
“From the malls – they all have carts and kiosks,” Jack answered. “All that
stuff is just sitting there and waiting to be used again. And, there’s tons of
lumber around – we could make stalls and a stage.”
“A stage?”
“Yeah – the other thing we all need is some entertainment,” Jack replied. “Not
the kind of entertainment where someone is tortured and humiliated, either.
The kind that makes people laugh or gives them a thrill.”
“I bet Sasha knows some people like that,” Bray mused. “The kind who’d try to
stay clear of Tribe Circus.” He looked over the huge parking lot. “Why only
use part of the lot?”
“Because I want to build three lagoons,” Jack said, simply.
“Three lagoons?” Bray asked. “For what?”
“Water purification, for one thing,” Jack replied. “In case you haven’t
noticed, the toilets are beginning to back up more often. That means the sewer
lines are backing up – probably because the waste management plants are filled
up and offline. We can pipe all our waste water into a lagoon and naturally
purify it.”
“How?”
“In the first lagoon, we have these plants – kind of like water lilies. They
grow like you wouldn’t believe – kind of like kudzu. The waste acts like a
fertilizer for the plants, they absorb almost all the wastes and clean the
water. Then, we cycle the water through a pebble and sand purifier which
removes even more waste, and then the water overflows into the second lagoon.
And, that lagoon has more sand and pebbles on the bottom. From there, we run
the water through another filter tank like the first one before letting it
flow over into the third lagoon. By that time, the water is pure and safe for
washing or even drinking if need be.”
“Are you sure it will work?” Bray asked, doubtfully.
“Of course,” Jack said. “It’s worked for centuries – even most waste
management plants use similar methods. Did you know Disney World reclaims all
their waste water like that? That’s where they get – or got – all the water
they used in their fountains.”
Bray shook his head in total amazement – Jack started off bothered by one
problem and in working to solve that, also found a way to address another
totally unrelated problem.
“And, that’s not all,” Jack continued. “The water plants will have to be
harvested on a regular basis, or they’ll choke off the first lagoon and the
whole system will back up.” A grin began curling up the corners of his mouth.
The enigmatic grin seemed to erase the tired look on Jack’s features.
Bray couldn’t help grinning back, Jack had something else up his sleeve. He
sighed, good naturedly, “Okay, what else is on that genius mind of yours?”
“Well, when the lilies are composted,” Jack said. “They decompose and one of
the by-products is methane gas. We can collect the methane and store it.”
“And?” Somewhere in the back of his mind, Bray remembered that methane was
highly volatile.
“And,” Jack’s face was beaming, “we can light off the remaining two boilers,
which can run the entire generating plant for the ship. That means, we can get
everything working – not just the lights and essential electricity like we
have now. With the generating plant operating, we can have air conditioning,
heating – hell, we could even run the powerful search lights around the
clock.”
Over breakfast, Bray introduced Jack’s ideas to the other Shiprats and was
pleased to find them generally receptive. The few objections presented were
really matters of logistics that could easily be worked out. Amber pointed out
the need for some kind of security to give visitors to the marketplace a sense
of safety. Selene and Heather both suggested the Shiprats should charge a
nominal fee to those who wanted to use one of the stalls in the marketplace.
Sasha confirmed he knew of several entertainers who would love the opportunity
of performing without having to worry about being enslaved. Dal, on the other
hand, liked the idea of the water purification lagoons and suggested using
small amounts of chlorine to ensure the water was totally safe to drink.
Adding that the Tribe could offer bottled water in trade at the marketplace.
Bray was astounded with the Tribe’s reaction to Jack’s ideas – everyone was
energized, throwing out additional ideas and suggestions. Sasha asked if it
would be possible to offer the other performers a place to stay on the ship in
return for performing. Adding he thought he might even be able to put together
a small acting company who could stage actual, full-length plays as an
alternative entertainment. The only person who wasn’t adding to the
conversation was Jack. Bray turned and found his small lover slumped over in
his chair, fast asleep.
Shaking his head in bemusement, Bray lifted Jack from the chair and carried
him down to their suite and tucked him into bed. He sat by the side of the bed
and stared at Jack’s face as he slept. There were still creases as if
something continued to disturb Jack. He wished he could make whatever was
bothering Jack right again. Gingerly getting up, Bray leaned over the bed and
kissed Jack on the forehead.
“Sleep tight,” Bray whispered before tiptoeing from the room.
Jack woke with a start – he’d been dreaming about Bruno and the fate he was
sure awaiting the big bodybuilder. He didn’t regret what he’d been forced to
do to escape Tribe Circus, and even though he had said he hoped Sasha had
killed the strongman, he knew he hadn’t really meant it. His rational,
scientific mind told him that he had nothing to do with Bruno’s downfall and
the public castration that was bound to follow at the hands of the Locos. But,
his heart told him that he did help contribute to what was happening to the
bodybuilder.
Throwing the blankets off, Jack found he was trembling all over as he padded
across the room to his closet and began going through his clothes. He selected
his black cargo pants, a black turtleneck, and black balaclava from his days
before he met Bray. Pulling out his old black field jacket, Jack began
twisting at the grommet until it came loose revealing a flexible wire saw.
He’d installed the saw in his coat when he was on his own in case he was ever
captured by the local gangs. Jack had figured that as long as his hands were
tied or cuffed in front of him he’d be able to cut himself loose. Thankfully,
he’d always been able to elude the local gangs. Now, the saw was finally going
to get some use.
Jack was sweating as he changed into his black clothes and pulled out his
small leather dispatch bag. Trying to find a way to sneak in and give Bruno a
chance to escape was as likely to end up with Jack as a prisoner of the Locos,
or with Bruno beating the shit out of him, as it was to be successful.
Stealthily slipping out of the suite, Jack sneaked down the corridors as he
made his way to his workshop in the Purser’s office. He knew he had to avoid
being seen by anyone else – he doubted anyone else in the Tribe would allow
him to take such a stupid risk. He certainly knew, he would prevent anyone
else from taking such a risk.
Reaching the workshop, Jack slipped inside and quietly rummaged around the
bottles of chemicals he had collected until he found the ones he needed. It
was a matter of a few breathless minutes to make a bottle of ammonium iodide,
a low grade explosive. In liquid form, the ammonium iodide was fairly stable,
but once it began to dry and form crystals, it became highly unstable and
volatile. Jack wasn’t sure whether the stuff was powerful enough to blow the
locking mechanism out of handcuffs without doing serious injury to the
prisoner. Then again, maybe the explosive would just jam the handcuff
mechanisms so they couldn’t ever be opened. Jack carefully wrapped the bottle
of brown liquid between two small squares of foam before packing the bottle in
his dispatch bag. Searching the chemical shelf, Jack found a small can of oil
and a can of spray silicone lubricant. He added both cans to his dispatch bag
and turned to leave. He was halfway to the door when he stopped and hurried
over to his work desk and hastily scribbled a note to the others – that way,
if things went wrong for him, they’d at least know what happened and that he
hadn’t just abandoned the Tribe.
Slipping out the door, Jack eased his way to the gangway and dashed across the
parking lot, not stopping until he was sure he was out of sight of the ship.
His conscience nagged at sneaking off on his friends, but he was able to
mollify that nagging feeling by reminding himself that he was righting a wrong
he had indirectly helped to create.
Keeping to side streets and alleys, it took Jack a little longer than he
expected to make his way to the Inferno. Aside from a bored guard on the front
door, there was little activity around the club during daylight hours. Jack
skulked around, using all the survival skills he had learned back when he was
on his own to keep out of sight while reconnoitering the club. When he decided
he couldn’t put off approaching the club any longer, Jack worked his way
around the block and came up the alley running along the side of the building.
Crouching next to the Inferno building, Jack pulled his balaclava hood from
his bag and pulled it down over his head, covering almost all of his face.
Only his eyes remained uncovered.
Jack figured Bruno would most likely be held captive in the building’s
basement, so he carefully edged his way along the building peering through the
small basement windows. He didn’t have any luck with the side alley, so he
began working his way along the back and struck double pay dirt. The first
window he peeked into showed Bruno huddled in the corner – his hands cuffed
together and a chain running from his ankle to a large ring in the wall. Next
to the window, was an old coal chute that was easily big enough to accommodate
Bruno’s bulk. Jack examined the coal chute, grinning when he found it was
padlocked with the cheapest of locks available. The first thing he did was
generously spray the hinges and hasp with the silicone lubricant. Then, he
fished his tool kit from the dispatch bag and went to work picking the
padlock. He’d learned to pick most cheap locks when he’d been on his own, and
although he was a little rusty from lack of practice, he managed to open the
lock in just about a minute.
Jack’s heart was thumping like a conga drum as he began easing the coal chute
door open wide enough for him to squeeze through. Dropping lightly to the
floor, Jack turned around and made sure he could quickly jump up and get back
out of the coal chute door in an emergency before continuing across the room.
Once he was satisfied he could scramble out if needed, he turned to find Bruno
sitting upright and staring in his direction.
Holding his finger up in front of his face, Jack motioned for the bodybuilder
to keep quiet. Keeping close to the wall Jack edged closer to Bruno, keeping
one eye on how much chain the bodybuilder had available to him. Jack wanted to
stay out of the large teen’s reach – he still wasn’t sure the bodybuilder
would find his presence welcome.
Jack stopped at a point where he was sure he was out of reach, “You want to
get out of here?”
“What the hell do you think?” Bruno snapped.
“Shhh! Keep you voice down,” Jack hissed. “Do you want everyone to hear you?”
Bruno’s eyes narrowed, as if fearing some kind of trap, “What’s the catch?”
“No catch – you want to stay here and face what they have planned, or do you
want to get out of here?” Jack whispered. “It’s your choice – the faster I’m
out of here the better I’ll feel.” He fished around in his bag and pulled out
the coiled survival wire saw, tossing it over to where Bruno could reach it.
The prisoner examined the coiled wire suspiciously, “What am I supposed to do
with this?”
“Uncoil it – it’s a saw,” Jack explained. “If I were you, I’d use it on the
chain around your ankle – you can worry about the handcuffs after you’re out
of here.”
“I still don’t know why you’re doin’ this,” Bruno growled, as he went to work
with the saw.
“Because, I feel kinda guilty that you’re here,” Jack said, pulling his
balaclava back to reveal his face.
At first, Bruno didn’t recognize Jack – then he saw past the haircut and new
hair color. “You’re the one who escaped – the one who bit off my dick.”
“I didn’t plan to do that,” Jack said, uneasily edging back towards the coal
chute door. “Remember, you were busy raping me at the time … all we wanted to
do was escape … you didn’t give me any choice. I did what I had to do is all …
you had as much to do with what happened to you as I did.”
Bruno’s face contorted remembering the events of that night. Jack couldn’t
tell if he was feeling regret for his own actions, or just harboring
resentment towards him. He fumbled in his bag, pulled out the ammonium iodide,
and set it on the floor as he edged even further back.
“That’s a liquid explosive,” Jack said, indicating the bottle. “It’s not real
powerful, but it might be strong enough to break the handcuff lock mechanism.
You have to let it dry and form crystals – then, break the crystals by
slamming the handcuffs against something hard. Breaking the crystals will
cause a small explosion. I think it will work, but I’m not sure – so, you
better keep the saw just in case.”
Jack turned and scrambled over to the coal chute.
“Wait!” Bruno hissed, frantically working the saw. “So why?”
“Why what?”
“Why’re you takin’ this risk?” Bruno demanded. “I mean, it’s not like you owe
me nothin’.”
“You wouldn’t understand,” Jack said, sadly.
“Try me.”
“Because, even though you and the others in Tribe Circus were wrong to do the
things you did,” Jack explained, “you don’t deserve to be tortured and
humiliated like they plan to do.”
“You was humiliated,” Bruno reminded him.
“Right,” Jack agreed. “And, it was wrong. But, it’s just as wrong to let it
happen to you – maybe worse, because I know it’s wrong.”
Bruno suddenly tipped backwards as the saw finished cutting though the link in
the chain. He wasted no time in pulling on the chain to open the link. Jack
wasted even less time scrambling up through the coal chute and back into the
alley. He paused only long enough to pull the balaclava down over his face
before sprinting down the alley. He wanted to put as much distance between him
and the club as possible. He thought he heard the metal chute door clang shut
behind him in the distance, but didn’t bother to stop long enough to turn
around to find out. He was confident he had enough of a head start to stay
ahead of the bodybuilder. He was just beginning to start feeling safe when two
Locos rounded the corner directly in front of him.
It didn’t take the Locos long to decide that the running figure in black with
a black balaclava mask was probably up to no good in their territory. Jack
wasn’t sure whether he screamed in fear first, or whether the Locos bellowed
their challenge first. Either way, it didn’t much matter – the two Locos,
their faces covered with catcher’s masks charged as the air still reverberated
with the echoes of the shouts. Without thinking, Jack went into a slide that
managed to bowl the two patrol members off their feet. He started scrambling
to his feet, struggling to disentangle himself from the two Locos on top of
him. Jack had barely regained his feet when a hand snatched at his ankle,
sending him flat on his face.
Kicking wildly, Jack tried to break free from the grip holding his ankle and
resume his flight from the area. His anxious shouts mingled with the angry
roars of the patrol as he flailed around trying to get away from them and they
doggedly tried to subdue him. Hope was fading fast in Jack’s brain when a new,
feral howl filled the air. The pressure of hands grabbing at him began to
diminish. Twisting his head around, Jack found Bruno unceremoniously dumping a
limp and groaning Loco into a Dumpster before turning his attention to the
other one. The fight was short – the bodybuilder simple clenched both massive
hands together and clubbed the Loco twice in the face. Jack saw the Loco’s
eyes roll back in his head with the first blow. Bruno’s second blow was
unnecessary – he delivered it as additional punishment.
Dropping the last Loco, Bruno reached out for Jack. Jack wanted to run – he
desperately wanted to put as much distance between himself and the large,
bald-headed teen, but he couldn’t make his legs move. All he could do was
whimper helplessly as Bruno grabbed Jack and lifted him off the ground and
slammed him into the wall. Jack’s jaws snapped painfully together so hard he
was afraid he’d broken a couple of teeth. The bodybuilder slammed Jack against
the wall a second time before shoving his face up close to Jack’s.
“I ought to break you into little pieces,” Bruno snarled, his fetid breath
washing over Jack’s face. “But, I won’t – this time.” He lowered Jack back to
the ground, but didn’t remove his hands from Jack’s shirt. “You helped me out
back there – so, I owe you. We’re even now.”
“I – I understand,” Jack said, his voice cracking.
“But, first,” Bruno plunged his knee into Jack’s groin. “That’s just a little
preview of what’s in store next time I see you.”
Jack’s breath whooshed out of him as pain exploded in his groin. Bruno stepped
back and let Jack sink to the ground, gasping for breath.
“If you’re half as smart as you think you are,” Bruno warned. “You’ll get as
far away from here as possible.”
“Good idea,” Jack gasped, clutching his belly. “Where’re you going?”
“Me?” Bruno snorted. “I’m getting outta this town. Far away.”
Jack nodded, squeezing his eyes shut in pain and gulping lungfuls of air in an
attempt to make the throbbing subside. Opening his eyes again, Jack was
surprised to find Bruno had disappeared. He had fully expected the brute to
continue beating on him, regardless of his claims to let Jack go this time.
Struggling to his feet, Jack hobbled as fast as he could from the area,
pulling his balaclava off and stuffing it in his bag as he went. It took over
two hours before Jack managed to return to the Queen Mary.
Jack hadn’t counted on Bray’s reaction when he finally got back to the ship.
Before he could even offer a word of explanation, Bray began screaming like a
wild man. He punctuated his tirade with slaps to Jack’s head and torso.
Stunned, Jack cringed and tried to protect his head and face as Bray continued
to rain blows at him.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Bray bellowed, finally grabbing Jack by the
shirt and shaking his back and forth. “Do you have any fucking idea of the
kind of danger you put yourself in? You saw what those maniacs do to people
for fun … what was going through your mind?”
“Let me explain …” Jack protested.
“Shut up!” Bray interrupted, shaking him even harder. “I don’t want to hear
it, Jack. The problem is you don’t fucking think things through. You didn’t
even stop to think of the risk you put yourself in, did you?”
Attracted by the commotion, Amber, Dal, and Sasha appeared, stunned at the
sight of Bray’s rage. When they attempted to pull him away from Jack, he threw
them off easily.
“Don’t any of you realize what kind of danger he put himself and us in?” Bray
cried. “He didn’t think about what we’d do if he was caught. We’d have tried
to save him – that’s what.” He spun on the other three, his face a mask of
rage. “Do any of you think we can match the Locos? Do you?”
“I don’t think Jack expected us to rescue him,” Dal said, softly.
“He didn’t stop to think about anything,” Bray spat back. “Don’t any of you
realize how important Jack is to us? Without him, we wouldn’t have electricity
or running water – hell, who here knows how to implement the ideas he has for
water purification and getting the remaining boilers working? Huh? Huh? Jack
didn’t bother to think about any of that.”
Amber grabbed Bray’s hand and managed to pull him away from Jack, “Okay, Jack
was stupid – but acting like a wild man isn’t going to change that.” She
turned on Jack. “It’s okay, no one’s going to hit you again. What were you
thinking?”
“I’m sorry I worried anyone,” Jack cried. “And, I didn’t expect anyone to try
to rescue me of things went wrong, but I couldn’t just let the Locos torture
Bruno and castrate him for the fun of it.”
“Why not?” Sasha asked. “Hell, he was in the middle of raping you when we
escaped.”
The words hit Bray and Amber like physical blows – they’d known Jack had been
beaten savagely while he was a prisoner of Tribe Circus. But, they’d never
known about the sexual assaults.
“That isn’t the point,” Jack said, tears spilling down his cheeks. “Bruno does
deserve to be punished – but, not tortured and used for sport. That’s not
punishment – that’s just wrong.”
“Oh, Jack,” Amber began.
“Don’t you understand? Don’t any of you understand?” Jack wailed. “It’s
because of what I did that landed Bruno in the situation he was in …”
“Jack, all you did was escape,” Amber said, gently. “You can’t hold yourself
responsible for that.”
“That’s not all I did,” Jack shot back.
“Jack,” Sasha said. “It’s okay – you don’t have to say anything else. It’s
okay.”
“No!” Jack screamed, near hysteria. “They don’t know that while he was raping
me – forcing his dick down my throat – I bit his cock off.” Amber’s hands flew
to her face in horror. Bray staggered like he’d been hit. “That’s right – I
jammed my jaws tight and bit right through it.”
“You did what you had to do to save us both, Jack,” Sasha said.
“I know that,” Jack snapped. “And, I’d do it again – I’m sure. But, I wouldn’t
just torture him or anyone else for fun. That’s just wrong and can’t be
tolerated. I can’t help feeling a little like I helped put him in that
position – even if he was mostly at fault. I couldn’t just stand by and let
him be tortured for no good reason.”
“But, he raped you,” Sasha said.
“Then, put him in jail or cane him,” Jack countered. “Punish him, yes! But,
what is going on at the Inferno isn’t about punishment – it’s just torture and
humiliation as amusement. And, we’re better than that – or at least, I think
we are. And, if I want to feel right with myself, I can’t just sit by and do
nothing. I’d rather die trying to make things better than just sit by and
watch everything continue to fall apart and do nothing.”
For the first time, Bray noticed the trickle of blood pouring from Jack’s
nostril and realized he’d been the one to do that to Jack. He once again had
his hand on Jack, this time tenderly – tilting Jack’s head back and calling
for Sasha to get cold compresses. He began examining Jack’s face and head for
other injuries, tears running down his face as he babbled apologies.
Jack seemed to understand that Bray’s earlier outburst had been fueled not out
of anger, but fear – Bray had been afraid something had happened to Jack while
he had been away, and frustrated at not being able to keep his lover safe and
protected. He allowed Bray to lead him to the First Class Lounge where Bray
tenderly laid cold compresses over the back of Jack’s neck and dabbed at the
blood trickling from his nose.
Amber found Sasha perched on a railing on the Boat Deck, playing a mournful
tune on a recorder. He let the tune trail off as she approached.
“Why didn’t you tell anyone about what happened to Jack?” Amber asked.
“It wasn’t my business,” Sasha said, simply. “He seemed to be handling it
pretty well without me or anyone else making a fuss about it and embarrassing
him.” He twisted around precariously on the railing. “I thought about it, but
I didn’t see any good reason to open wounds for Jack that are probably best
left closed. What could you or me or anyone do or say to make him feel better?
I figure all we’d end up doing was make him feel self-conscious about what
happened.”
“I guess,” Amber admitted, chewing her lip. “Still, maybe if we’d known what
happened, we could have stopped Jack from taking such a terrible risk.”
Sasha shook his head, his caramel locks falling over his brow, “Nah, he’d have
gone anyway. He can’t help himself,” Sasha said, philosophically. “He’s the
kind who can’t help doing the right thing – even if it means putting himself
at risk, or doing what he really doesn’t want to do.”
Amber nodded, she remembered how demoralized Jack had been when he’d had to
perform Peter’s castration. Amber, Dal, and Selene had known since they found
Peter that castration was the only way to save his life – but, none of them
could bring themselves to do it. Jack, on the other had, knew what had to be
done and did it, even though he suffered mentally for a long time afterwards.
“Jack’s made of pretty strong stuff,” Sasha said, knowingly. “I watched him
resist Top Hat and the others – you should have seen how bad they beat him,
and he didn’t break. He just took everything they did to him and the whole
time he was thinking of a way for both of us to escape.”
“You would have done the same for him,” Amber pointed out.
“No, I wouldn’t have,” Sasha admitted, ruefully. “At least not back then, I
wouldn’t have. I’d have been sorry to leave him behind, but I would have.” His
eyes began to shine with admiration. “See, after all the adults were gone, I
was like everyone else – I stopped believing in much of anything but surviving
from one day to the next.”
“Well, we all did,” Amber said. “It was only natural.
“Not Jack,” Sasha countered. “He still believed that something better could be
in the future – and not the faraway future, either. And, he went to work
making things better.” He gave a wry little smile. “And, know what? He did
make things better – look at all of us. We have hope again, and are making
plans for the future.” He shook his head. “Bray’s right that Jack is important
to us, but not because he can invent things and work out ways to make life
better. Jack’s important because he kept the memory of things like right and
wrong, hope, virtue, and all those other noble ideas alive.”
Amber’s head bobbed up and down in agreement, “You’re right – I never thought
about it like that. But, that’s exactly what Jack has done.”
“And that scares me,” Sasha said, ominously.
“What do you mean?” Amber asked, in confusion.
“Guys like him always end up as martyrs,” Sasha pointed out, his eyes
troubled.
To be continued …
* * * |
Geschenk mit Folgen der Nullifikation | BI, NULLIFICATION | Geschenk mit Folgen der NullifikationHans 19 und Lynn 18 blond treffen sich bei Peters und Jennifers Haus, wo sie herzlich zu einem kleinen Apero empfangen werden und schon nach einer Weile, reden sie über romantische, erotische Dinge und dem schönen Liebesleben. Jennifer ist 18 und erzählt wie geil sie ist und dass sie das ficken nur mit ihrem Freund liebt und nie fremdgehen könnte, denn sie würde darauf wetten, dass wenn sie fremdgehen würde sich freiwillig nullifizieren würde. Jennifer hat schöne schwarze Schamhaare und sie wünscht sich so zum Spass mal blonde zu haben. Hans meint darauf hin wenn du möchtest zeig sie uns, doch Jennifer ist zu scheu. Peter fragt darauf hin wer hat die grösseren Brüste von euch zwei Frauen und Lynn fängt an zu kichern und sagt so ohne was dabei ja willst du sie sehen? Peter lenkt ab und fragt ob sie denn unten rasiert sei. Lynn antwortet darauf finde es doch heraus. | Hans 19 und Lynn 18 blond treffen sich bei Peters und Jennifers Haus, wo sie
herzlich zu einem kleinen Apero empfangen werden und schon nach einer Weile,
reden sie über romantische, erotische Dinge und dem schönen Liebesleben.
Jennifer ist 18 und erzählt wie geil sie ist und dass sie das ficken nur mit
ihrem Freund liebt und nie fremdgehen könnte, denn sie würde darauf wetten,
dass wenn sie fremdgehen würde sich freiwillig nullifizieren würde. Jennifer
hat schöne schwarze Schamhaare und sie wünscht sich so zum Spass mal blonde zu
haben. Hans meint darauf hin wenn du möchtest zeig sie uns, doch Jennifer ist
zu scheu. Peter fragt darauf hin wer hat die grösseren Brüste von euch zwei
Frauen und Lynn fängt an zu kichern und sagt so ohne was dabei ja willst du
sie sehen? Peter lenkt ab und fragt ob sie denn unten rasiert sei. Lynn
antwortet darauf finde es doch heraus.
Dann haben Hans und Peter die Idee mal so richtig Gentlemen zu spielen und die
Frauen neu einzukleiden. So geht’s in ein Warenhaus und die Frauen dürfen sich
von Kopf bis Fuss neu einkleiden. Da die Frauen ja alles probieren müssen na
ja; wird es für die Männer interessant, da Lynn mit Jennifer dieselbe Kabine
teilt, so werden die Männer die schönen Sachen reichen und beim Probieren
helfen. Und es wird für die Männer immer spannender, da ja nun auch BH und
Slip anprobiert werden muss. Dann ganz unbemerkt zieht Lynn die Kleider von
Jennifer an, während sie noch am anprobieren ist und plötzlich sieht dass Lynn
ihre Kleider anzieht, sagt Lynn zu Jennifer zieh doch einfach meine an und wir
schauen mal wie die Männer so drauf reagieren. Jennifer fängt an zu kichern,
gute Idee. Wenn Jennifer und Lynn dann aber herauskommen gibt es eine kleine
Verwechslung da Hans auf Jennifer zugeht ohne es zu merken und ihr einen
leidenschaftlichen Kuss verpasst, während Lynn Peter den Freund ihrer Freundin
am Arm packt und sagt da ist noch was, was wir vergessen haben, was ich dir
unbedingt noch zeigen muss und verschwinden in die Umkleide, wo Lynn Peter
einen leidenschaftlichen Zungenkuss gibt während ihre Hand langsam in seine
Hose wandert und sich langsam tastend mit einem kribbeln mit ihren Finger
seinem Schwanz hoch bis zur Spitze vortasten und dort kreisen und sie merkt
wie er langsam hart wird. Dann nimmt sie ihn in ihre süsse Hand und zieht in
langsam aus seiner Hose und bevor er es merkt ist er in ihrem Mund
verschwunden. Jennifer und Hans suchen Lynn und Peter und lassen sie schon
ausrufen oh wie peinlich, aber das macht die beiden nur noch heisser, so dass
Lynn Peter ins Ohr flüstert fick mich wenn du willst aber wenn du kommst wird
dein Schwanz für immer mein sein. Da Peter ja die Kleider von Jennifer bestens
kennt welche nun Lynn trägt sind seine Finger flink am Werk, die Hände wandern
zu ihren Brüsten, senken sich weiter hinab zu der Gürtelschnalle von Jennifer
ihrer Jeanshose und öffneten diese. Er streift ihr die Jeans herab und öffnet
ihr die Bluse, und saugt zärtlich an ihren stehenden asiatischen Brustwarzen.
Dann zieht Peter ihr Slip etwas herunter und ihre glatt rasierte Pussy liegt
total feucht vor seinem süssen Schwanz. Dann verschwindet er in ihrer Pussy
mit einem leichten flutschen, wow ist der hart und heiss, und ihr Körper fängt
an ganz leicht vor Geilheit zu etwas zittern. Und schon wieder hören sie ihre
schönen Namen im Kaufhaus während sie ihm etwas von ihrem warmen Wasser an den
Beinen herunterlaufen lässt, da sie es einfach nicht mehr halten konnte,
sorry. Wir müssen uns beeilen und Lynn flüstert in Peters Ohr, ich will dein
warmes Sperma aber noch in meiner Pussy fühlen sonst sage ich es deiner
Freundin und sie küsst ihn leidenschaftlich währendem es ihm kommt und sie
fühlt wie es in ihr da unten plötzlich ganz warm wird. Oh shit, scheisse meint
sie ich habe nicht Verhütet. Dann zieht er seinen Schwanz schnell heraus und
ein Teil seines Spermas läuft in den Slip von Jennifer welchen Lynn nun trägt,
dann ziehen sie sich schnell an und sie eilen dann rasch einzeln zum
angesagten Treffpunkt, während es ihr da unten immer noch kribbelt und sie
fühlt wie ein Teil davon noch an ihren Beinen herunterläuft. Dann fahren alle
zurück in das Heim von Peter und Jennifer. Die anderen Zwei sind über Lynns
und Peters Verschwinden verwundert, während Lynn den Gurt von ihrer Hose
langsam entfernt. Im Haus essen bald alle was feines was Jennifer die Asiatin
und Lynn für die Männer jetzt zubereiten und sie probieren schon etwas Wein,
doch während der Zubereitung fragt Lynn Jennifer so nebenbei ob sie ihr mal
einen Kuss geben dürfe so Frau zu Frau mal zum probieren wie es so ist.
Jennifer meint ok aber nur ganz schnell, damit sie die Männer nicht sehen.
Dann sagt Lynn zu Jennifer, hast du schöne Brüste, die würde ich gerne mit dir
tauchen, OK tauschen wir doch unsere Kleider wieder zurück, wo können wir das
tun. Lynn meint dann, die Männer haben uns ja sowieso schon halb Nackt gesehen
also können wir uns ja im Wohnzimmer umziehen. So ziehen sich Jennifer und
Lynn gegenseitig nackt aus, sie fängt an die Bluse bei Jennifer aufzuknöpfen
und Jennifer macht ihr die Jeans auf und zieht sie runter, Lynn zieht ihr den
Mini aus, Jennifer zieht ihr dem Pullover aus und Lynn zieht ihr den BH aus
und bestaunt kurz ihre Brüste und fasst sie kurz an und lacht dabei, wow sind
die niedlich, Jennifer hat einen roten Kopf bekommen und zieht Lynns BH aus
und dann zieht sie Lynns Slip aus und sie ihren während Lynn die geilen
schwarzen Stoppeln an Jennifers Schambereich bewundert werden die Männer davon
geil und meinen; setzt euch doch auf uns. Und Lynn setzt sich auf Peter und
Jennifer meint na ja was solls und setzt sich auf Hans den Freund ihrer
Freundin und die Küsserei geht los. Hans fühlt die Stoppeln von Jennifers
Schambereich auf seiner Hose kratzen. Und Peters Hose wird vom Sekret von Lynn
befeuchtet, denn sie ist so nass vor Geilheit. Hans und Peter werden dann so
richtig heiss, so dass sich die beiden Männer auch ausziehen während Jennifer
und Lynn dabei helfen. Jennifer hat sich schon an Hans etwas gewöhnt und setzt
sich ohne was dabei zu denken wieder auf ihn und er führt seinen Schwanz ein.
Sie ist nun so scharf, dass sie es macht und Hans zuerst reitet, dann spielt
sie mit seinem Schwanz im Mund mit der Zunge und dann heizt sie ihm so richtig
ein bis er kommt. Jennifer schluckt es nicht sondern geht voll heiss zu Lynn
und lässt es mit der Zunge in ihre Vagina laufen, während auch Lynn Peters
Schwanz bläst bis er kommt und es dann auf Jennifers Bauch, Brüste und ihre
Scheide tropfen lasst. Jennifers süsse asiatischen Brüste glänzen nun vom
Sperma. Lynn nimmt es dann mit ihren Mund auf und lässt es vorsichtig mit der
Zunge in Jennifers Vagina laufen und Hans schmiert es mit seinen Finger noch
mehr hinein. Dann machen Jennifer und Lynn die 69 Stellung, Lynn unten
Jennifer oben. Jennifer küsst Lynns Sperma salzigen Kitzler währendem Lynn das
noch herauslaufende Sperma aus Jennifers Fotze schlürft bis sie kommt und kurz
danach auch kommt. Dann ziehen sich alle wieder an, Jennifer merkt, dass
Sperma in ihrem Slip ist, wundert sich und ist kurz etwas verärgert, doch dann
merkt sie was wohl passiert war und zieht ihn ohne was zu sagen an.
Mittlerweile ist es Neun Uhr und Peter schlägt vor in die Disco zu gehen, alle
müssen aber gleich gehen um noch einen guten Platz zu kriegen. So gibt es halt
nur schnell ein Zähneputzen und Schnellreinigung und kein Kleiderwechsel mehr.
In der Disco tauschen alle abwechselnd die Partner und tanzen hin und wieder
engumschlungen wie Liebespaare. Auf dem Rückweg machen sie vor dem Spital halt
und Hans nimmt zwei Scheren heraus und gibt eine Peter, thia als die Frauen in
der Küche waren hatten die Männer Pläne geschmiedet. Es ist dunkel und
Jennifer geht leicht angetrunken zu Hans und sagt ihm ins Ohr fick mich und
entferne mir meine Brüste und Pussy weil ich fremd gefickt habe. Er fängt an
von hinten langsam BH Halter von Jennifer durchzuschneiden und dann die Jeans
und ihren schwarzen Slip. Jennifer merkt es und wird voll geil, da sie so was
noch nie erlebt hatte so dass sie Hans wild küsst und er schneidet ihr jetzt
von vorne den Pullover auf und schneidet an den Schultern die Halter des BH
durch, so dass ihre zwei prallen und frischen asiatischen Brüste zu sehen sind
und er küsst sie, während er die Jeans je von den Seiten oben aufschneidet,
die Hosenbeine herunter, so dass diese herunter gleitet, und Jennifer meint
dann jemand wird uns sicher sehen und schon gleitet auch der schwarze Slip zu
Boden so dass sie Nackt da steht und ohnmächtig wird. Hans kann nicht mehr und
spritz seinen Sperma auf ihre Brüste und reibt sie damit ein. Auch Peter hat
in der Zwischenzeit Lynn mit der Schere nackt gemacht, da sie einen Mini
anhatte war es eine leichte Sache für ihn, er hat ihn von vorne aufgeschnitten
und dann hat er Lynns Slip und ihren BH vom Leib geschnitten. Jennifer liegt
nackt am Boden und Hans beginnt mit der Entfernung der linken Brust indem er
von Unten in die Titte leicht hineinsticht und Lynn wird beim Anblick
ohnmächtig und fällt zu Boden. Auch Peter kann sich nicht mehr zurückhalten
und so legt er sich auf Lynn und fickt bis er in ihr abspritzt und es anfängt
zu flutschen in ihrer Vagina wärend sie immer noch regungslos mit dem Rücken
auf dem Boden liegt. So tragen die die beiden Doktoren Hans und Peter die
schlafenden Frauen zum OP um weiter zu machen. Nun sticht Hans das Messer von
unten tief in die 75C Titte von Jennifer und zieht das Messer langsam hoch bis
die Titte ab ist. In der Zwischenzeit wacht Lynn auf und als sie die zierliche
asiatische Titte mit dem immer noch stehenden Nippel von Jennifer in der Hand
von ihrem Freund Hans sieht wird sie gleich wieder ohnmächtig. Hans meint dann
zu Peter, diese Titte hat noch recht ein Gewicht und sie klebt noch etwas vom
Sperma. Peter hat dann eine Idee und meint, tauchen wir doch Jennifers Titten
und die Fotze sowie Gebärmutter mit der von Lynns aus. So hat meine Freundin
Lynn asiatische Brüste und eine enge Pussy. So beginnt nun auch Peter damit
weil er sich etwas grössere Brüste am Körper seiner asiatischen Freundin
Jennifer immer schon gewünscht hatte und sticht in die 75D Brust von Lynn und
schneidet mit einer linken Umdrehung die Brust ab, während Hans schon die
zweite abgeschnittene Titte von Jennifer in der Hand hält. Nun macht sich Hans
daran die Schamlippen, Vagina und Gebärmutter von Jennifer der Freundin von
Peter zu entfernen. Dass ihre Vagina eng war wusste er, aber ihm war nie
aufgefallen wie geil sie da unten wirklich aussieht. So beginnt Hans die
Schamlippen von Jennifer mit einem Messer leicht einzuschneiden sowie eine Art
Kunststoff auf die Klit aufzutragen damit diese keinen Schaden nimmt, um
danach mit einem Spezialwerkzeug welches er speziell Jahrelang entwickelt
hatte die Schamlippen mit der Vagina, Kitzler und Gebärmutter von Jennifers
Körper abzutrennen. Die Maschine ertönt wie ein Mixer und schneidet alles ab
und er zieht alles fein säuberlich heraus. Jennifer hat nun ein Faustgrosses
Loch zwischen den Beinen. Peter hatte Mühe die Brüste von Lynns Körper der
Freundin seines Freundes abzutrennen, da diese einfach gross sind, doch nun
hat er auch die zweite Brust von ihr entfernt und legt diese zu den anderen
drei abgeschnittenen Titten. Nun macht sich Peter daran die Schamlippen,
Vagina und Gebärmutter von Lynn zu entfernen. Dass ihre Vagina nass war wusste
er, aber ihm war nie aufgefallen wie geil sie da unten wirklich aussieht. So
beginnt Peter die Schamlippen von Lynn mit einem Messer leicht einzuschneiden
sowie eine Art Kunststoff auf die Clit aufzutragen damit diese keinen Schaden
nimmt, um danach mit dem Spezialwerkzeug die Schamlippen mit der Vagina,
Kitzler und Gebärmutter von Lynns Körper herauszuziehen. Die Maschine ertönt
schnetzelt alles ab und er zieht alles fein säuberlich aus Lynns Körper
heraus. Lynn hat nun auch ein Faustgrosses Loch zwischen den Beinen. Peter
nimmt nun die abgeschnittene Pussy von Lynn und legt diese auf die abgetrennte
Pussy von Jennifer. Hans sieht wie noch Sperma aus der Pussy von Lynn
herausläuft und über die Pussy von Jennifer fliesst und macht davon ein
Erinnerungsbild. Nun tauchen die Männer die abgeschnittenen Titten und Pussys
gegenseitig aus. Da beide als Arzt tätig sind und es verstehen die Brüste und
Pussys fein säuberlich in der anderen Frau einzubringen. Zuerst setzt Hans bei
seiner Freundin Lynn die Pussy von Jennifer in ihr Körper ein. Ein
Spezialmittel verbindet alle Nervenbahnen miteinander. Da die Scheide von
Jennifer etwas kleiner ist muss er die Haut etwas zusammenziehen, damit es
passt. Doch nun werden die süssen asiatischen Titten von Jennifer an Lynn
angebracht, was für Hans eine echte Herausforderung ist, denn die
Grössenunterschiede machen ihm beim einpflanzen mühe. Zuerst legt er die
Brüste von Jennifer auf Lynns Körper und richtet diese aus. Mit der Hilfe von
Peter gelingt es das Grössenproblem zu lösen und es sieht perfekt aus. Die
Titten von Jennifer stehen Lynn wirklich gut, und die Scheide mit den
schwarzen Schamhaarstoppeln sieht so einladend aus, weil sie von der Spannung
noch etwas geöffnet ist so dass Hans seine Freundin gleich ficken möchte aber
er muss noch warten bis alles sauber verheilt ist. Nun muss auch noch Jennifer
gemacht werden. Peter macht sich an die Arbeit und möchte zuerst die grosse
Scheide von Lynn in Jennifers Körper mit dem Spezialmittel einsetzen. Aber es
geht nicht, da das Loch zu kein ist. So drücken Hans und Peter Jennifers Beine
weit auseinander und es geht. Nun wird sauber alles eingepasst. Es sieht ein
wenig komisch aus, da die Scheide von Lynn in Jennifers Körper etwas gerümpft
ist vom Druck. Nun legt Peter die Grossen Brüste auf die kleinen Bruststellen
von Jennifer. Die Anpassung geht ohne Probleme jedoch die Brüste hängen noch
etwas durch. Mit einem Spezial Laser werden die Narben der Frauen behandelt so
dass diese später verschwinden. Peter freut sich, dass seine Freundin Jennifer
endlich grosse Brüste bekommen hat und auch die Vagina etwas weiter ist, da
sein grosser Schwanz dabei immer etwas leiden musste. Nach einer Weile nachdem
sie fertig waren wachen die beiden Frauen auf und merken, dass sich ihre
Brüste und Schamlippen verändert haben und verzweifeln was bei beiden Frauen
nach dem frisch operierten Zustand eine extremstarke Erektion auslöst welche
15 Minuten andauert.
Einige Monate später als alles gut Verwachsen ist merkt Lynn, dass der
Orgasmus beim Sex viel intensiver ist als zuvor. Offenbar ist der asiatische
Kitzler von Jennifer empfindlicher. Lynn geniesst auch den Anblick, dass ihr
nun Pech schwarzes Schamhaar wächst bevor sie sich wieder blank rasiert. Lynn
möchte nun jeden Tag mit Hans ficken. Jennifer fühlt wenig beim Sex und wenn
sie kommt ist es intensiv und kurz. Das einzige was ihr gefällt ist das blonde
Schamhaar. Peter gefällt dies alles nicht, so darf er zum letzten Mal Lynn
ficken und die Brüste seiner Freundin Jennifer am Körper von Lynn fühlen unter
der Bedingung, dass er seinen Schwanz in ihr zurücklässt weil er zuvor Lynn
einfach gefickt hatte und so Hans betrogen hatte. Während sie ihn reitet und
er seinen Samen in ihr ergiesst schneidet Jennifer Peters Schwanz ab und Lynn
zieht sich an während der Schwanz immer noch in ihr ist. Am Abend als Hans
dann bei seiner Freundin Lynn seinen Schwanz einführen möchte geht es nicht da
der abgeschnittene Schwanz aus ihrer Vagina zuerst hinaus muss. Hans geniesst
danach den Sex mit seiner präparierten Freundin in vollen Zügen, da sie nun
zierlich mit asiatischen Teilen Bestückt ist und eine enge Vagina hat.
Jennifer bekommt den Schwanz von ihrem Freund Peter von Lynn zurück doch wie
kommt sie nun zu ihrem Glück. Jennifer hat das Pech, dass ihr Freund nun
kastriert ist und sie ihn nicht mehr ficken kann. Jennifer trifft sich deshalb
mit Hans um den letzten Sex als Frau zu haben, er soll nochmals in ihr kommen,
bevor sie ihre Brüste und ihre Pussy welche sie von Lynn bekommen hat dem
Spital spendet. Jennifer wärmt sich zuerst mit dem abgeschnittenen Schwanz von
Peter auf, indem sie ihn langsam hinein schiebt und auch um ihre Clit kreisen
lässt. Dann geht es zur Sache mit Hans und nachdem er in ihr gekommen ist
lässt Jennifer das Sperma auf den Bauch und Fotze von Hans Freundin Lynn
tropfen welche nackt auf dem Boden neben ihr liegt. Dann geht es zur
Operation, denn Jennifer möchte ihr Versprechen einlösen weil sie Hans der
Freund ihrer Freundin gefickt hatte und so werden Jennifer die Titten und
Schamlippen sowie Gebärmutter entfernt, damit diese dem Spital für jemanden
als Ersatz zur Verfügung stehen. Der Schwanz von Peter wird ihr anstelle der
Fotze eingepflanzt, so dass sie Lynn ihre Freundin ficken kann. Jedenfalls hat
sich Peter bei Hans gemeldet, dass er die Titten und Pussy bei sich
einpflanzen lassen möchte.
Doch wie geht es weiter, denn Lynn möchte schon bald wieder andrere Brüste und
Schamlippen... wer will soll die Story weiter schreiben...
* * * |
Schlossbesichtigung - Teil 3 - German | GAY, TESTICLES, MINOR | Einmal mehr findet ein Treffen zwischen den beiden Jungen statt. Wie immer bleibt dieses Treffen fŁr einen von beiden nicht ganz ohne Pein. Aber welche Wahl hat Johannes schon? | Der Sommer brachte eine groŖe Hitze mit ins Land, die an diesem Tag nur durch
gelegentliche, leichte Brisen ertršglich wurde. Johannes saŖ zwar erst seit
gut zehn Minuten auf der Bank, aber er schwitzte jetzt schon. Das war aber
nichts ungewŲhnliches, denn er schwitzte aufgrund seiner leichten Dickheit
eigentlich recht schnell. Und das obwohl er ein kurzšrmliges T-Shirt und
halblange Shorts trug. Er spielte nervŲs mit der Kordel an seinem Rucksack
herum, bis er endlich seinen etwas unfreiwilligen "Freund" ankommen sah. Kai
trug kurze, sandfarbene Shorts und ein dazu passendes, dunkles Khaki-Hemd.
Seine Tasche trug er locker Łber die Schulter und eine Sonnenbrille rundete
sein Outfit ab.
Mit einem Grinsen hob er die Hand.
"Na, Dickerchen", begrŁŖte er ihn.
"Hi", sagte Johannes und versuchte die kleine Stichelei zu ŁberhŲren.
"Wie geht es denn so?"
"Meine Mutter freut sich einfach nur", seufzte Johannes. "Sie ist glŁcklich,
dass ich...dass ich einen...Freund...gefunden habe."
Kai lachte kurz auf, schlug ihm dann mit der Hand auf die Schulter. Nach auŖen
hin waren sie das inzwischen wirklich. FŁr die SchŁler ihrer Klasse
unbegreiflich. Aber natŁrlich hatte Kai ihn noch immer in seiner Hand.
"Ist ja so etwas šhnliches", erklšrte Kai. "Du bist nun einmal mein Sklave."
Bei diesen Worten zuckte sein GegenŁber etwas zusammen.
"Was denn?", fragte Kai unschuldig. "Was willst du machen? Du gehŲrst mir
inzwischen, Dickerchen. Ich habe dich schon kastriert, habe genŁgend Fotos von
dir. Und jedesmal werden es mehr. Was kannst du also tun?"
Einen Moment lang biss sich der Junge auf die Lippen, bekam dann aber noch
einmal einen Klopfer auf die Schulter. Johannes blickte auf und versuchte zu
lšcheln Ė das Łberraschte Kai sichtlich. Er schŁttelte unmerklich den Kopf,
ehe er mit einer deutlicheren Kopfbewegung klar machte, dass sie nun zusammen
zum Gebšude gehen wŁrden. Sie gingen die Treppe hoch und befanden sich kurz
darauf im Foyer des stšdtischen Schwimmbades. Eine Schlange, an der sie sich
anstellen mussten, gab es zu ihrem GlŁck heute nicht. Aus irgendeinem Grund
waren die Leute an einem solchen Tag lieber am Strand und sonnten sich, statt
sich im Schwimmbad zu vergnŁgen.
Kai erwies sich als groŖzŁgig, indem er den Eintritt fŁr das Schwimmbad sowohl
fŁr sich, als auch fŁr seinen "Sklaven" bezahlte.
Die beiden gingen schweigend durch eine TŁr, an der groŖ "Umkleideraum" stand.
Neben zwei grŲŖeren Umkleideršumen gab es viele kleinere Kabinen, welche
direkt neben den Spinden waren. Johannes wollte gerade zu einer freien Kabine
gehen, bevor er von Kai am Arm festgehalten wurde.
"Einen Moment noch, Hannes", meinte er.
Er nahm seinen Rucksack von der Schulter, kramte kurz darin herum und reichte
seinem "Freund" dann etwas zusammengefaltetes. Dieser nahm das kleine Pšckchen
irritiert entgegen und betrachtete es mit einem Stirnrunzeln. Unbeobachtet von
ein paar anderen Gšsten, die vorbei gingen, faltete er es auseinander und
hielt es mit den Hšnden hoch.
"Was...ist das?", fragte er.
"Das nennt man eine Aquawindel", erklšrte Kai grinsend. "Oder Badewindel. Wie
du es auch nennen mŲchtest. Das tragen fŁr gewŲhnlich Babys oder inkontinente
Leute, wenn sie trotzdem schwimmen gehen mŲchten."
Johannes schluckte deutlich.
"Das...soll ich...anziehen?"
"Aber ja."
Der Dicke stŲhnte leicht auf, nickte aber nach kurzem ZŲgern dann doch.
"Soll ich dann...meine Badehose drŁber tragen?", fragte er.
"Was? Quatsch. Du ziehst die hier an. Und sonst nichts. Oh, warte. Du bekommst
noch etwas."
Eigentlich hatte Johannes angenommen, dass es nicht mehr schlimmer wŁrde
kommen kŲnnen, doch er bekam einen kleinen Gegenstand gereicht, der in Papier
eingewickelt war.
"Ich kontrolliere nachher", meinte Kai mit einem Lšcheln und verschwand in der
nšchsten Kabine.
Johannes seufzte noch einmal und nahm die Kabine am anderen Ende des Flures.
Schnell schloss er die TŁr und setzte sich hin. Sein Rucksack landete auf dem
Boden, die peinliche Windel neben ihm auf der Bank. Dann packte er den
Gegenstand aus und verkniff sich ein weiteres StŲhnen, als er einen handlichen
Buttplug in der Hand hielt. Er war schwarz, eher etwas dicklich als lang und
hatte einen breiten Boden. Und Kai hatte ja eine Kontrolle schon angekŁndigt.
Es wurde wirklich nur noch schlimmer. Einen Moment lang Łberlegte Johannes,
wie es wohl wšre, wenn er einfach "Nein" sagen wŁrde. Aber der Gedanke, dass
peinliche Fotos von ihm im Internet landen wŁrden, brachten ihn fast zur
Verzweiflung. Zwar behandelte ihn Kai nicht wie den allerletzten Dreck, aber
man durfte nicht vergessen, dass er wegen ihm seine Eier bereits eingebŁŖt
hatte. AuŖerdem konnte man Johannes nicht wirklich mehr als freien Menschen
bezeichnen. Er war gewissermaŖen wirklich ein Besitz von Kai.
Leise atmete er durch, dann zog er sich seine Klamotten aus, die umgehend im
Rucksack landeten. Seine Badehose, die ganz oben lag, musste er ja leider
ignorieren.
Er nahm den Buttplug ganz vorsichtig in die Hand, als wŁrde es sich um einen
hochgefšhrlichen Gegenstand handeln. Er hatte sich so ein Geršt noch niemals
eingefŁhrt. Und die einzigen Male, dass er Łberhaupt etwas im Hintern gehabt
hatte, war es immer Kai gewesen, der dafŁr verantwortlich gewesen war.
Unsicher beugte sich Johannes nach vorne, hielt sich an der Wand fest und
drŁckte das Geršt mit der rechten Hand gegen sein Poloch. Er bemerkte seine
eigene Anspannung und spŁrte, dass er so nicht weit kam. NervŲs stellte er
sich breitbeinig auf, beugte sich nochmals nach vorne und drŁckte die Spitze
wieder gegen sein Poloch. Wieder ging nichts. Er atmete durch, wischte sich
mit der Hand Łber die Stirn und dachte dann kurz nach, ehe er den Buttplug mit
seiner eigenen Spucke einrieb. Das Gleiche machte er unsicher mit seinem
Hintern, dann probierte er es erneut. Das Geršt glitt langsam in sein
HintertŁrchen. Es fŁhlte sich komisch an, so etwas zu machen. Es war nicht
direkt ein Schmerz, sondern zunšchst einfach nur ungewohnt. Nachdem eine
gewisse Barriere aber Łberwunden war, rutschte das schwarze Geršt die letzten
Millimeter von selbst weiter rein. Johannes betastete es schnell, konnte aber
feststellen, dass es wirklich gšnzlich drin saŖ. Er machte einen Probeschritt.
Ein seltsames GefŁhl.
Ihm fiel ein, dass er schon viel zu lange gebraucht hatte und zog sich daher
die Aquawindel schnell Łber. Immerhin war sie nicht zu klein. Sie war dehnbar
und passte ganz angenehm. Schnell packte er nun seine Sachen zusammen, stopfte
sie in den Rucksack und verlieŖ den Umkleideraum. ZŁgig drŁckte er die Tasche
in einen Spind und eilte zu den Duschen. So schnell er konnte, duschte er sich
ab und lief dann weiter in den Badebereich. Hier wartete Kai bereits und
lšchelte ihn an. Er trug jedoch nicht wie erwartet Shorts, sondern stattdessen
eine recht enge Badehose. Johannes hatte nicht ganz so viel MŁhe, gewisse
Umrisse zu erkennen.
"Siehst gut aus", meinte Kai. "Steht dir wirklich toll. Los, suchen wir uns
ein paar Liegen aus."
Johannes nickte knapp und ging ihm hinterher. Auf dem Weg zu den Liegen
bemerkten einige der Badegšste seine Badekleidung. Ein paar zeigten auf ihn,
ein paar andere tuschelten und die meisten bemerkten es zum GlŁck gar nicht.
Immerhin war es keine knallbunte Windel mit Motiven darauf Ė dafŁr war sie
aber mit DruckknŲpfen ausgestattet und war etwas dicker, sodass sie
unmissverstšndlich klar machte, dass es wirklich eine Wasserwindel war.
Kai warf sein Handtuch auf die nšchste freie Liege, stellte seine
Badeschlappen ab und ging dann in Richtung des Wassers. Johannes machte es ihm
nach, nahm jedoch die Leiter am Rand, statt dass er wie Kai einen Hechtsprung
ins Wasser machte.
Das Wasser war doch recht angenehm kŁhl und erfrischte bei der heiŖen
Jahreszeit enorm. Sie schwammen eine Runde, ehe Kai ruhig neben ihm
herpaddelte.
"Wie fŁhlt es sich an?", fragte er.
"Seltsam", gab Johannes keuchend zu. "Ich spŁr das Ding bei jeder Bewegung in
meinem Hintern."
"Das ist gut. So soll es auch sein", grinste er. "Erzšhl mir was, was ich noch
nicht weiŖ."
"Ich war beim Arzt", sagte der Dickere kurz darauf. "Nachdem...nachdem du mein
Ei zerquetscht hast."
"Ui."
"Nein, im Ernst. Ich...ich musste ja. Und meiner Mutter musste ich wieder
irgendeine Geschichte von wegen Erkšltung erzšhlen. Ich kann ihr ja schlecht
die Wahrheit sagen."
"Und was hat er Doc gemacht?"
"Ziemlich komisch geguckt", seufzte Johannes. "Ich musste mir auch fŁr ihn
irgendeine abstruse Geschichte ausdenken, wie mei Ei zerquetscht worden ist."
"Du hšttest du ihm sagen kŲnnen, dass du des Nachts Łberfallen und
vergewaltigt worden wšrst", witzelte Kai.
"Jedenfalls ist das...RŁhrei...aus dem linken Hoden nun weg."
"Dein linker Hoden ist nun vŲllig leer?", fragte Kai neugierig.
"Ja. Nichts mehr drin. Leider."
Johannes begann nun wieder zu keuchen.
"Nicht so schnell", bat er. "Das ist anstrengend."
Kai schmunzelte, sagte aber nichts. Stattdesen kehrte er mit ihm in den
Nichtschwimmerbereich um, wo das Wasser nicht ganz so tief war und der Dicke
sogar stehen konnte.
"Vor allem mit dem Ding im Hintern", flŁsterte er weiter.
"Wie fŁhlt es sich denn nun an? Schmerzhaft?"
"Nein", sagte Hannes wahrheitsgemšŖ. "Es ist nur...ungewohnt."
"Dein Hintern ist doch schon lange nicht mehr jungfršulich", grinste sein
Peiniger. "Und du wirst dich mit der Zeit dran gewŲhnen."
"Mit der-"
"Los, komm. Lass uns mal im Whirpool vorbei schauen", unterbrach Kai ihn.
Er schwamm zur nšchsten Leiter und kletterte los, ehe er seinem "Freund"
zuwinkte.
"Nun komm schon."
Hannes beeilte sich keuchend und kletterte ihm hinterher. Er zŲgerte einen
Moment lang, als Kais Badehose dabei ein StŁck runterrutschte und seine
Hinterpartie zu sehen war. Ein unmerkliches KopfschŁtteln, dann kletterte er
weiter. Er folgte ihm, sodass sie kurz darauf nebeneinander im Whirpool saŖen.
Zwei andere Badegšste saŖen ebenfalls darin und unterhielten sich lautstark.
Es dauerte einige Minuten, dann stiegen diese aus dem Wasser und gingen
lachend zum groŖen Becken zurŁck.
Kai schaute sich kurz um, um sicherzugehen, dass er die Gelegenheit auch
wirklich nutzen konnte. Er rutschte ein StŁck nšher zu ihm heran und legte
seine Hand unter dem sprudelnden Wasser auf sein Bein. Johannes schluckte,
sagte aber nichts.
"Ich mŲchte nur testen, ob du es auch wirklich tršgst."
Mit diesen Worten glitt seine Hand unter die Wasserwindel. Der dickere spŁrte,
wie seine Hand langsam an seine Hinterpartie wanderte, wo Kai nach dem Ende
des Buttplugs tastete. Er lšchelte zufrieden und lieŖ seine Hand dann weiter
wandern. Als nšchstes nahm er die Hoden des Jungen in die Hand und bewegte das
verbliebene Ei hin und her. Anscheinend erregte es ihn, an dem Gehšnge seines
Sklaven rumzuspielen.
"Du hast wirklich nur noch einen Hoden", kicherte Kai. "Das ist toll."
Einige Minuten lang nahm er sich die Zeit, mit der Hand auszukundschaften, wie
sich der halb leere Hodensack anfŁhlte.
"GroŖartig", keuchte er. "Das ist so..."
Kai schaute sich nochmals um, dann zog er seine Hand zurŁck und nahm
stattdessen die Hand von Johannes. Der Junge schaute ihn irritiert an, aber
Kai fŁhrte seine Hand zielgerecht in seine eigene Badehose. Hannes nickte
langsam, als er verstand. Er begann die Hand hoch und runter zu bewegen und
den Penis seines "Freundes" zu reiben. Kai atmete zufrieden durch und legte
den Kopf zurŁck. Johannes befriedigte ihn weiter mit der Hand, doch kurz bevor
er kam, lieŖ sich eine Gruppe von anderen Badegšsten laut in den Whirpool
plumpsen. Sie konnten zwar wegen dem sprundelnden Wasser nichts sehen, aber
Johannes zog sofort erschrocken seine Hand zurŁck. Kai atmete entnervt durch,
sagte aber nichts. Nach etwa einer Minute zog er sich aus dem Wasser. Johannes
folgte ihm und ignorierte dabei das Gekicher, als die anderen Badegšste seine
Wasserwindel sahen. Er ging zurŁck zu Kai, der mit beleidigtem Gesicht zum
groŖen Becken ging.
"Alles okay?", fragte Johannes zŲgerlich.
Kai gab nur eine murmelnde Antwort. Er war allem Anschein nach veršrgert, dass
er seinen gewŁnschten Orgasmus nicht bekommen hatte.
"Warte mal", sagte der Dicke kurz darauf. "Wie wšre es mit der Rutsche? Das
muntert dich sicherlich auf."
Kai zog eine Augenbraue hoch und schaute dann seufzend zu der Wasserrutsche.
Sie war wirklich toll und eine Attraktion, aber aufgrund der Lšnge musste man
trotz der relativ wenigen Badebesucher lšnger anstehen.
"Ich weiŖ nicht", sagte er. "Eigentlich habe ich keine Lust so lange zu
warten..."
"Ach, komm schon", sagte Johannes. "Bitte."
Kai rollte mit den Augen. Gerade kam ihm Hannes wie ein kleines Kind vor. Die
Windel, die er dabei trug, unterstrich das Ganze noch.
"Okay", willigte Kai schlieŖlich ein.
Freudig ging Johannes mit ihm zur Wendeltreppe, die nach oben fŁhrte. Kai
bereute es mit der Zeit zugesagt zu haben, denn immerhin warteten sie gut eine
Viertelstunde, bis sie endlich oben ankamen. Eine Ampel zeigte an, wann wer
losrutschen durfte. Nachdem der letzte vor ihnen losgerutscht war,
positionierten sich beide hintereinander. Der etwas dickere Johannes setzte
sich direkt hinter Kai und legte seine Arme um ihn. Kaum dass die Ampel auf
grŁn sprang, stieŖen sie sich ab und rutschten los. Just in diesem Moment
spŁrte Kai, wie Johannes mit seiner Hand unter seine Badehose wanderte und
sein Glied rieb. Es ging unglaublich schnell und sein "Sklave" machte weiter,
obwohl sie mit hoher Geschwindigkeit die Rutsche hinunter rasten. Kurz bevor
sie das Ende erreichten, kam es Kai und er spritzte seine volle Ladung in
seine Badehose hinein. Dann landeten sie laut platschend im Wasser.
Sie beide tauchten wieder auf und Johannes grinste Kai nun an. Kai konnte nur
erstaunt dreinblicken. Damit hatte er nicht gerechnet.
Unter der Dusche traute sich Johannes schlieŖlich nicht annšhernd, seine
Windel auszuziehen. Viel zu sehr befŁrchtete er, dass irgendjemand auftauchen
und den Buttplug sehen wŁrde. Kai hingegen nutzte die Gelegenheit, um sich zu
entkleiden und sich genŁsslich zu duschen. Das GefŁhl mit vollgewichster
Badehose rumzulaufen war zwar einerseits erregend, andererseits aber auch
eklig. Entsprechend war er schon etwas froh, dass er sich nun duschen konnte.
Auf dem Weg zurŁck war Johannes aber noch nicht fertig. Er wurde von Kai in
einer der Umkleidekabinen gedršngt, wo ihn Kai auf den Boden drŁckte und dann
seine Badehose runterzog. Dieses Mal zŲgerte Johannes aus irgendeinem Grund
nicht so lange, wie die Male zuvor. Er nahm den Penis in die Hand und von dort
aus dann in den Mund. Es war zum GlŁck fŁr Hannes nicht ganz so schwer, da das
Glied eher DurchschnittsgrŲŖe hatte und keine ŁbermšŖige Lšnge besaŖ, die ihn
beim Blowjob gequšlt hštte.
Da das letzte Mal abspritzen ja schon wieder einige Zeit her war, dauerte es
auch nicht ganz so lange, bis Kai leise stŲhnte und schlieŖlich sein Sperma
dem Jungen in den Mund pumpte. Verzweifelt versuchte dieser alles in sich
aufzunehmen, verschluckte sich aber erneut wieder und hustete die Hšlfte unter
Kais Gelšchter auf den Boden.
"Du hast ja noch Zeit", sagte Kai schlieŖlich. "Wir Łben das noch."
Er strich seinem auf dem Boden sitzenden Sklaven Łber den Kopf. Und kam etwas
nšher.
"Behalt den Buttplug ruhig drin", sagte er.
Damit verlieŖ er die Kabine und holte aus dem Spind sein eigenes Zeug.
Sie trafen sich wieder drauŖen, wo sie zusammen die Treppe nach unten gingen.
DrauŖen war es zwar noch immer warm, aber inzwischen nicht mehr all zu
brennend heiŖ.
"Sag mal", fragte Kai, als sie unten stehen blieben. "WeiŖt du, was Rimming
ist?"
Johannes runzelte die Stirn und schŁttelte schlieŖlich den Kopf.
"Dann finde das mal raus", grinste Kai.
Als keiner hinschaute, gab er ihm noch einen Klaps auf den Hintern, der ihn
aufjappsen lieŖ.
"Bis demnšchst dann."
Dann ging Kai wieder seines Weges.
* * * |
Plaything (Toy Factory part 3) | GAY, WARNING, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES | The Doctor relaxes with his \"Plaything\" and contemplates a visitfrom one of his clients.... | ` The doctor reviewed his day. He was tired, it had been a busy day, two full
surgeries involving limb amputations and joint re-designs and two geldings
including one full penectomy and a number of smaller procedures. `
Time, he thought for some relaxation. Time to visit his own personal “toy”.
He left his office and walked the corridors to his private apartment that was
in one wing of his large establishment set in the countryside. He walked past
three, eight bed “wards” containing his victims, checking quickly in each as
did, taking in the sight of twenty young men, each of whom had suffered the
doctor’s ministrations. Low moans permeated the rooms as the young men who lay
in plaster casts and bandages awaited their fate.
The doctor smiled to himself. The business was very successful, it had paid
for this facility and his experimental activities.
Finally he entered his own quarters. He showered and dressed for a session in
his “playroom”. A simple leather jockstrap sufficed. His broad muscular and
furry chest revealed by his near nakedness.
He tapped in a pass-code on the door to the playroom from his bedroom.
The door slid open.
The room was black, the only noise was that of chains moving, occasionally
making a clanking sound as they grated against something.
He flicked a switch and a spotlight came on.
In the centre of the room was his personal toy. To someone not aware of what
he was looking at, it seemed that a man lay there in a sling but a closer
inspection revealed that in fact it there was no sling, the man was directly
connected to the chains from which he now swung.
As the doctor approached he could see clearly his young plaything.
There he swung in permanent bondage. The boy’s legs and arms had been
amputated and bolts attached directly to the stumps. His beautiful blue eyes
removed and sold for profit and now replaced by artificial ones that stared
blindly into the darkness. His earsdrums excised leaving the boy in total
silence and with his larynx cut, silencing his groans permanently.
The boy’s teeth had been removed and his jaw adjusted so large objects could
pushed down the man’s throat.
His testicles and sac were gone and his once proud member reduced to mere inch
leaving his depilated and much enlarged anal hole free for use.
The doctor had turned the man into a living sex-sling, a series of orifices
for his personal satisfaction.
No groans came from the man. It was not possible for him to make any sound.
The doctor marvelled at his creation. This “toy” had been a great
advertisement for his services as well as enjoyable on a personal level. More
than one client had enjoyed sessions in the doctor’s playroom.
Now he approached the boy, his large dick aroused by the sight of his
powerless victim.
Pulling a whip from a selection that, hidden in the darkness, hung on the
wall. A little arse-warming would improve the fuck, he thought, as he
tightened the permanent clamps that imprisoned the boy’s nipples. The boy
shook as the pain pulsed from his nipples through his body.
Then he mercilessly lashed the boy’s exposed arse. Welts appeared quickly. The
boy shook and tried to move away as best he could. Whatever personal hell he
lived in the fiery lash from the whipping brought him into the real world of
pain and suffering
Then without ceremony or tenderness he entered the boy’s hole. He fucked the
boy without mercy.
There was little or no reaction from the victim. If he still could think or
felt he could no longer express it.
The abuse ended as doctor pumped semen deep into the boy’s arse. The day’s
stress relieved he pulled out leaving the boy again just swinging in his
endless bondage.
The boy’s arse was getting too loose. Maybe he could tighten it or replace the
boy with a new one. He could always sell the boy on to one of his clients.
There were certainly those who would like to purchase him.
But now he needed to clean up. There were tomorrow’s operations to review and
he had a client coming in to discuss a purchase and his requirements, and he
knew Lord Highett was always “creative”.
His last boy was intensively adjusted. The “boy” had been reshaped into a
permanent sculpture, his neck twisted, his arms amputated and then with his
legs were broken and reset at specific angles to leave the boy looking like a
piece of ancient Greek sculpture. Even the boys genitals had been reduced to
match those of Greek sculptures whilst his ribs had been reshaped and two
removed to achieve the desired look.
Lord Highett was demanding but paid top price. He was a most valued client.
Maybe he would make a gift of his plaything?
To be continued...
A special thanks to all those who have written to me with comments and
suggestions. 'Toy Factory' was only going to be a single story but your
response has made that impossible! Again many thanks to those who written to
me asking for more!
Tiegel
* * * |
In the Amazon's Arena II | GAY, STRAIGHT, BI, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, Other: clitectomy, ball-busting | A defeated Amazon pays the penalty and two males do battle for the Amazon's amusement | Amazon's Arena Part II
Triumphantly, Maeya raised her hands to acknowledge the cheering
crowd. As the crowd's cheered died down, her lover, Harla leapt from
her seat in the royal box.
"What of the guard bitch?" she cried.
Maeya turned. In her excitment, she had completely forgotton the
guard whom the Persian had defeated. The tall, slender blonde still
lay in the arena, her broken jaw slack, her slim, white thighs still
splayed open displaying her lightly haired slit, which leaked forth
both her virgin's blood and the dead Persian's cum.
"Her cunt has been defiled!" Harla continued, for such was her nature
that she reserved her greatest cruelties for other women, and often
in private feasted on the tits and labia of the Amazon's of other
tribes who were taken in battle.
"She has been defeated by a worthless male! She is no longer and
Amazon! Let her pay the price!" For it was a law that any Amazon
defeated by a male was unworthy of the name. The poor girl would be
sent into the dungeons, to live out her life harvesting the sperm of
male prisoners into a bucket so that those Amazons chosen to breed
could conceive without have to have a male organ violate their bodies.
"Shave her cunt! Shave her cunt!" The crowd began to cry. This was
the traditional mark of shame for an Amazon. To have her cunt hair
shaved was, in the eyes of an Amazon, the equivalent of
castration; also, her clitoris would be cut out.
"I have no razor!" cried Maeya. Always ready to harvest a cock,
Maeya felt a pang of guilt and hurting a fellow Amazon, even one who
had thus been disgraced.
Now it was Harla's turn to leap into the arena.
"I will take care of this bitch." She knelt over the girl, and
seized a handful of cunt hair. With a violent wrench, she yanked the
yellow tuft! The poor girl screamed inchoately at the pain. She
tried to cross her legs and even dared to attempt to shove Harla off
her. But cruel Harla seized another handful of cunt hair, so that
the girl's struggles caused her such pain that she full back
exhausted.
"Give me the knife!," cried Harla. Maeya handed the knife to her
lover and consort. Harla sat hard on the guards stomach, forcing the
air from it. She leaned over, flicking the dull edge of the blade
against her tiny clit, so that it grew swollen and blossomed forth.
The girl squealed in agony and fear! How often she had laughed as
the cocks of male prisoners went to their doom throbblingly erect;
now her own clit was begging for its fate as though she, too, desired
to be unsexed.
Now Harla ran the knife across the girl's labia. The girl was
gasping now, unable to control her pleasure. Tears of humiliation
streaked down her face, but she could not help herself. Her cunt
gaped still further, releasing more of the Persian's seed to drip
down upon the sand. Harla inserted the handle of the knife into the
open orifice. This triggered the girl's orgasm. Harla quickly
withdrew the knife and, with a practiced flip, sliced through the
erect clit. The girl shrieked as her tiny pink sex fell to the
ground. Harla ground her own cunt against the girl's belly, then
gasped at her own orgasm. By the cunt hair of the goddess! Tonight
she would order two of her page girl's to whip each other's hairless
pussies while another licked her cunt! And the main event was yet to
take place!
A few minutes later, Maeya and Harla had returned to the royal box.
The girl had been taken from the ring and cast into the Sacred
Dungeons. No doubt at this very moment she was harvesting the sperm
of some prisoner.
And now the two males were lead into the ring. In a frenzy of
excitement, Harla and Maeya both commanded their favorite page girls
to lick their cunts to orgasm.
The first male was a Nubian, from distant Afric shores. His name was
M'ondo, and he was taller than average. His chest and waist were a
perfect V. His buttocks were chunky but muscular, and his slim legs
seemed to slender to support his frame, though they were heavily
muscled. His cock was flaccid, but he was proud of its 8" length
when fully erect. His balls, which hung quite low, were the size of
walnuts, and burst with his unspent seed, for he had been at sea for
months.
The other male was a Hitani. LIke most of his race, he was tall--
taller than M'ondo, somewhat more slender, though his legs were
heavier. His name was Alarn, and he had long blonde hair. His cock
was proudly erect, and the sight of it caused both the crowd and his
opponent to gasp at it. It was 10" long. Its circumsized head was
as big as a pagegirl's fist; each of his balls was the size of a
lemon and his sack hung down nearly between his knees. Nothing was
dearer to the heart of a Hitani warrior than sodomy, and they cared
not whether they plundered the ass of a woman or a man, so it was
that Alarn was far more eager to sample the ass of the African than
the African was to sample his.
The trumpets sounded, and the two combantants moved towards each
other. In the royal box, Harla turned and spoke to her naked lover.
"I'll wager 100 cocks and my youngest page girl on the African," she
said.
"Ha!" laughed Maeya. "Behold the hardness of the Hitani's cock! He
is far more eager for this combat than your man! I accept the bet."
In the ring, the two males locked arms, engaging in a test of
strength. Slowly, the heavier build of the African began to tell,
and the Hitani began to drop. However, he shifted his weight, and
using the leverage of his powerful leg he shoved M'ondo away.
Quickly, he followed up his temporary victory, ducking and slamming
his shoulders into the black man's ribs. M'ondo's breath escaped
with a pained gasp, and he fell. Alarn then leapt at him, but the
M'ondo rolled away. The Hitani hit the ground hard, winding
himself. The two men struggled to their feet. Incredibly, despite
their exertion, Alarn's cock was still fully erect! M'ondo resolved
to repay his oppenents impudence. He rushed the Hitani, and ducked
under his counterpunch, wrapping his arms around the other warriors
stomach and driving him to the ground. Quickly, M'ondo rose up, and
then dropped his knee onto the Hitani's proud organ. M'ondo felt the
Hitani's giant balls give, the splatter hard against the ground.
Alarn screamed, trying and tried desperately to free his balls which
were pinned against the ground. He drove his fingers into the
African's eyes, forcing him to back away. Alarn could do no more
than curl up in a ball, clutching his nuts. To his amazement, they
were still intact, the inflamed and in agony. He felt the rough
hands of the African roll him so that his buttocks were thrust into
the air, but his balls hurt to much to resist. Now M'ondo dropped to
his knees and thrust his still limp cock at the Hitani's ass. But it
was useless. The Amazons hooted with derision as his limp dick
failed to claim his victory.
Filled with anger, he rose and began shouting at the crowd.
"Which of you bitched will face me? Step in the ring, cunts, and
you'll find my cock hard enough!"
But as he shouted, his eyes spied the royal box, and how the young
page girl's greedily sucked and licked the cunts of the two
priestesses. He felt his cock rise at the sight. Quickly, he
turned, his own cock filling. But during the respite, Alarn had
struggled to his feet. He was bent over, breathing hard. M'ondo
attacked again, driving a kick into his oppenents balls. The Hitani
dropped again. And M'ondo was on him, driving his cock into the
Hitani's bowels. Of course, the Hitani had been fucked by huge
Hitani cocks throughout his days as a page, and even M'ondo's large
tool slid easily into his grasping sphincter. As the African reamed
his ass, he felt his own balls begin to boil, and he brought his hand
down to touch his own heavy cock.
How the Amazons loved the show! One male being raped by another,
while he beat his own meat!
M'ondo, who nothing of the customs of the Hitani, was disgusted at
the sight of the Hitani playing with his own cock and resolved to
teach him a lesson. He pulled his cock from the Hitani's ass, and
seized the Hitani's hair, spinning him around.
"Lick the shit from my cock, girl-whore!" he cried, thrusting his
cock deep into the Hitani's open mouth. Of course, this, too, was a
service a young warrior was expected to provide his master before he
had been circumsized and bedded by a sacred prostitute in the temple
of the War God. So he took M'ondo's cock in his mouth and began to
suck it, pleased at its size and flavor.
Still, it would not do to be defeated and forced to suck a cock as
though he were still a boy and not an man. So as he felt M'ondo's
first tell-tale spasms, he bit down hard on the African's cock. His
teeth shredded the stiff meat, causing M'ondo to scream and yank his
cock from his enemy's mouth. Blood pumped from the nearly severed
organ, and M'ondo backed away, clucthing his ruined manhood. At the
sight, Alarn's own cock burst forth his white seed, which rained down
on the floor of the arena to the delight of the Amazons. M'ondo knew
his cock was destroyed. Never again would he enjoy a woman. He was
defeated, yet he would not go down alone. Somehow, despite the pain,
he again charged Alarn, who had staggered to his feet, his cock still
dripping cum. He seized the surprised Hitani by the throat and by
the balls, bench pressing him above his head. Then he squeezed the
Hitani, crushing his windpipe and his balls. He felt the two balls
crush together, and tightened his grip until at last he felt a
popping. The Hitani hung, limp, his balls shattered, his lungs empty
of air. He threw the Hitani down, and dragged him around the arena
by his balls, then collapsed. His own life force flowed from between
his legs as he cradled his shredded penis in his hands.
Above him, the crowd was going insane with excitment. Never before
had so popular a spectacle taken place in the arena. Harla and Maeya
embraced, and all the women in the stands fell on each other,
tonguing and licking each other until the moon rose. |
A Slave Called Rock Part VI (Conclusion) | GAY, WARNING, TG, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, Torture | Rock dances for his master and his master\'s friend | ` Part VI (Concluding Chapter) `
Joe finished whipping Rock. He switched the box on again and Rock’s screams
again echoed round the room as he flung himself against his chains. He knew
that pain would be a constant for him. Joe smiled; he dialled down the device
to minimum voltage. “That’ll keep you going all night,” Joe left him as he
hung there twitching in his bonds.
Joe came back the next morning. He stood for awhile listening to Rock’s moans
and gasps; he knew that Rock’s balls must be really full now. “Wake up!” Rock
jerked awake staring with horrified fascination at the whip Joe carried. “Are
you wondering why I turned you into a slave and a ballet slave at that?” Rock
nodded. “You had to volunteer, didn’t you, I couldn’t risk you finding out and
going to Mike. Then you were such a hot little stud and you recall that I’m
gay don’t you?” Rock blinked at him. “Dumb insolence, eh, all that gets you is
this,” Joe dialled the box up to the voltage that it had given out the night
before. Rock went frantic as he threw himself about in his bonds. “You can
stay like that all day it won’t kill you just hurt you a lot. I’ve got to go
to work, you can guess what case I’m working on.” Rock nodded he knew Joe was
on his case not that he should be really but there would be no one who could
stop him. “Oh, I’m bringing another master with me tonight, he teaches ballet
at the Washington Ballet School, he’ll continue your education and he’s harder
than either Blossom or Petal. In fact, he brought those two sluts to the
club,” Joe left grinning as he heard Rock’s screams, just before he closed the
door. The screams stopped but he knew that Rock was still going to pieces in
there. Rock’s screams now echoed in his imagination.
Inside the cellar Rock threw himself backwards and forwards against his bonds
trying to break the chains that held him so that he could get to that box and
smash it into a million pieces but it was no good. He was also hungry he
hadn’t eaten properly for three days. Finally Rock accepted he would have to
wait for Joe to get back for food and for Joe to turn the box off.
Rock was surprised that he fell asleep but the pain only jolted him awake
again, then he jerked his head round as Joe opened the door and came in
followed by another man. Rock assumed he was the ballet teacher. “This is
Rockette,” Joe said.
“Ah yes, your ex-partner now your slave. You, Rockette! I’m Petrovich!” Rock
screamed as the pain coursed through him. Joe laughed and turned the box off,
Rock sagged in his bonds. Joe freed Rock from the bonds. “On pointes!” Rock
rose up onto his toes. “Show me what you’ve learned,” Joe turned the CD Player
ob, Rock danced the dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy, a blush covered his face as
he danced in front of the men. “Well, Petal and Blossom were woefully
inadequate teaching you. You will improve or suffer.” Joe opened the door and
led in Blossom and Petal. “Recognise them?” Rock nodded. “I own them they know
not to expect mercy from me. You two will suffer estim now your teaching was
abysmal.”
Joe and Petrovich chained Rock to his cross and hung Blossom and Petal up from
the chains in the ceiling their legs spread wide apart, Rock twisted his head
and watched as they had the wires from the boxes attached to the their nipples
and the prods inserted into their assholes. Joe and Petrovich flicked the
switches. Blossom and Petal shrieked as the electrical current coursed through
their bodies. Rock felt no sympathy for them they had openly gloated when
ordering it done to him during his lessons at the club. “You two are going to
dance there for four hours.” They screamed even louder at hearing that,
jerking at the bonds that held them.
“Petrovich, what is your opinion of Rockette? Joe asled.
“Him, he’s no good as a ballet dancer but his training will suit him if you
try training him as a pony and you could sell any semen you get from him to
breeders or sell him to breeders.”
“I’ll probably sell him I want to own a ballet slave and I haven’t the room
for two slaves. I’ll call the club to come get him and put him up for auction,
someone will want him I’m sure. Shall we have some fun with him while they’re
dancing?” Petrovich nodded, they freed Rock from the cross. They forced him
down to kneel on all fours while they lubed their cocks and took his rearhole.
Petrovich used Rock’s hole after Joe had finished and while Petrovich was
having that hole Joe mouthed fucked him followed again by Petrovich. They kept
swapping round during the four hours while Blossom and Petal danced and
shrieked their suffering. By the end of the four hours Rock was screaming too.
Then Joe and Petrovich chained them all to the wall side by side and whipped
them until their blood ran, their screams still echoed round the cellar. Rock
listened as Joe made a phone call.
This is the end of this series about Rock, if you want to know more about Rock
from auction to gelded pony let me know as usual any suggestions welcome.
* * * |
Die neue Chefin im Büro bringt Schwung in die Bude | STRAIGHT, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, German Language | Erzählt die Geschichte eines Wechsel der Chefin aus ihrer Sicht. Dieser Wechsel hat viele posititve Folgen. | Ich war auf Jobsuche, nachdem ich bei meiner vorhergehenden Stelle nicht mehr
weiterkam, Frauen hatten dort prinzipiell keine Chance auf eine
Führungsposition, auch wenn sie, wie ich gut waren. So war ich an
verschiedenen Bewerbungsgesprächen. Oft wurde ich nur pro forma eingeladen. Es
war recht frustrierend.
Endlich kam ich zu einem bekannten Grosskonzern, anfänglich war ich eher
skeptisch. Das Gespräch war aber ein richtiger Aufsteller. Ich bekam die
Stelle und wurde Chefin einer Abteilung. Der vorherige Chef war ein Chauvinist
und die Konzernleitung war froh, dass er etwas anderes gefunden hatte und sie
ihn damit endlich los waren. So bekam ich endlich eine mir zustehende
Führungsposition und konnte sogleich beginnen. Ich war recht aufgestellt.
Am nächsten Montag hatte ich bereits den ersten Arbeitstag. Zuerst war die
allgemeine Einführung des ganzen Konzern, welche recht lang dauerte. Am
späteren Nachmittag konnte ich dann noch das neue Büro in Beschlag nehmen.
Gegen 18 Uhr kam ich dort an. Es waren noch die beiden männer dort, die beiden
waren mir von Anfang an unsympathisch und sie waren auch nur geblieben um sich
bei mir einzuschmeicheln. Dazu starrten sie mich an, wie wenn sie noch nie
eine Frau gesehen hätten und wollten mit mir ins Bett.
Am nächsten Morgen begann ich mit meiner Arbeit. Für diesen Tag hatte ich mir
ein dunkelgraues Deux pičce und eine hellblaue Bluse angezogen, dazu trug ich
meine Perlenkette. Zuerst musste ich die Struktur dieser Abteilung
kennenlernen. Anita die Chefsekretärin war mir dabei sehr behilflich. Wir
waren uns vom ersten Moment an sympathisch. Sie trug ein hellblaues Kleid und
hatte lange dunkelbraune Haare. Als erstes räumte ich das Büro vom Vorgänger
auf.
Am zehn war dann eine Abteilungssitzung, wobei ich mich zuerst vorstellte.
Dann war es an den Mitarbeitern sich vorzustellen. Anschliessend präsentierte
ich ihnen meine Vorstellungen für eine gute Zusammenarbeit und dass ich
entschlossen gegen jedwelche Ungerechtigkeiten, insbesondere sexistisches
Verhalten, mit allen Konsequenzen vorgehen werden. Die Frauen applaudierten.
Dann sagte ich, dass ich noch diese Woche mit jedem ein Gespräch führen wolle
und anschliessende werde ich, die von mir als nötig befundenen Neuerungen
bekanntzugeben. Die täglichen Geschäften müssten weiterhin erledigt werden.
Auf weiteres seien alle alten Weisungen weiterhin gültig und erst nach einer
allfälligen durch mich erfolgten Aufhebung nicht mehr in Kraft. Es werde sich
einiges verändern, entsprechend der Politik der Konzernleitung, welche in der
letzten Zeit von dem altem Chef einfach ignoriert wurden.
Zuerst begann ich die Gespräche mit den Frauen, was ich dabei über die
Situation unter dem alten Chef hörte, war einfach haarsträubend. Das die
Frauen, dass ausgehalten hatten, war bemerkenswert. Es war an der Zeit, dass
sich die Situation deutlich verändert. Dabei konnte ich den Frauen, Denise der
Sachbearbeiterin, Anita der Chefsekretärin, Helen, Nicole, Verena den
Sekretärinnen und Nadja der Empfangsdame Hoffnungen machen. Insbesondere, dass
jetzt auch im gesamten Konzern die Frauen gefördert würden.
Danach kamen die Gespräche mit den beiden männern. Die hatten dabei nur eine
Beule in der Hose und starrten mich, während des ganzen Gespräches, nur an.
Ich fragte sie einiges, erhielt recht einsilbige Antworten. Ich sagte ihnen,
dass ich Machoallüren auf keinen Fall akzeptieren werde und grossen Wert
darauf lege, dass die Vorschriften auch von ihnen eingehalten werden und sie
sich korrekt gegenüber den Mitarbeiterinnen verhalten werden. Ich erwarte
dabei ihre volle Unterstützung. Was vorher war wollen wir zu den Akten legten.
Sie widersprachen nicht.
Am Freitag Nachmittag berief ich die zweite Sitzung ein. Dabei erklärte ich
die neue Organisation der Abteilung mit der Bürozuteilung. Ich ernannte Denise
zu meiner Stellvertreterin und gab ihr das grosse Sachbearbeiterbüro, in
welchem die beiden männer bisher waren. Die drei Sekretärinnen bekamen das
zweite grosse Büro, welches bis jetzt leer war und den beiden männern gab ich
das kleine ehemalige Sekretärinnenbüro und das vierte Büro wurde zum
Konferenzraum und Bibliothek umfuntioniert. Die beiden waren recht enttäuscht
und machten lange Gesichter. Zusätzlich durften sie fortan den Sekretärinnen
und der Empfangsdame keine Weisungen mehr geben, das war in meiner Kompetenz,
in der von Denise meiner Stellvertreterin und Agnes der Chefsekretärin. Helen,
Nicole und Verena waren sehr erfreut. Desweiteren kürzte ich beiden männern
den Lohn um 30 % und den Sekretärinnen konnte ich 15 % mehr zuteilen. Dazu kam
noch die Toiletten zur Sprache, die Damentoilette blieb selbstverständlich uns
Frauen vorbehalten aber die Männertoilette erklärte ich zur gemischten denn
sonst wären die männer privilegiertt und fortan war dort auch nur noch sitzend
pinkeln erlaubt.
Einer der männer fand das gehe doch zu weit und protestierte, ich reagierte
sofort, verwarnte ihn, wegen sexistischem Benehmen und kürzte seinen Lohn um
weitere 5 %, welche Nadja, der Empfangsdame gutgeschrieben wurden. Die Frauen
gingen danach recht glücklich ins Wochenende, worüber ich mich sehr freute,
die beide männer waren ein wenig angeschlagen, andrerseits waren die
angeordneten Massnahmen notwendig und gerecht.
Motiviert begannen alle die neue Woche. Die Arbeit lief jetzt einiges
speditiver und effizienter, im Vergleich zu früher. Die Frauen waren viel
entspannter und fühlten sich wohl. Am Montag Nachmittag wurde der einte mann,
derjenige der am Freitag protestiert hatte, beim stehend pinkeln erwischt, ich
gab ihm sofort eine weitere Verwarnung verbunden mit einer weiteren
Lohnkürzung und dazu hatte er den Spott aller Frauen im Büro. Sie sprachen
davon ihm beim nächsten Mal den penis abzuschneiden und zeigten mit dem Finger
das Symbol des Abschneidens.
Am nächsten Freitag Nachmittag berief ich wieder eine Sitzung, wobei ich
zuerst auf den Erfolg der getroffenen Massnahmen hinweis und einige weitere
Massnahmen bekanntgab. Agnes, der Chefsekretärin gab ich für Abwesenheiten von
mir und Denise, ebenfalls das Weisungsrecht gegenüber den beiden männern, die
eindeutig das schwache Glied der Abteilung waren. Inzwischen waren alle Frauen
mit mir per Du, während die männer mich weiterhin zu siezen hatten. Dann wurde
die Kleiderordnung besprochen. Das war noch ein Erbstück vom alten Chef,
welches den Frauen ohne sie namentlich zu erwähnen eine feminine Kleidung und
eine dezentes Make-up vorschrieb, während sie die männer gar nicht erwähnt.
Für ihn war es selbstverständlich, dass diese einen Anzug mit Krawatte trugen.
Ich fand, dass sei ja schön und gut aber es steht für alle Mitarbeiter nur was
von Kleidern, Jupes und Strümpfen und nicht von Anzügen. Alle waren komplett
überrascht. Ich erwarte, dass sie ab Montag korrekt gekleidet erscheinen
werden. Sie hätten ja das Wochenende Zeit für die notwendigen Einkäufe.
Einer fragte Nadja die Empfangsdame, ob sie ihn morgen bei diesen Einkäufen
begleiten könne, da er keine Ahnung davon hatte. Sie sagte ihm nach meiner
Erlaubnis zu und holte ihn am Samstag Morgen ab. Sie erzählte uns alles am
nächsten Montag. Sie gingen in einige Boutiquen, wobei sie für ihn einige
Kleider, Jupés, Strümpfe, Dessous, Nachtkleider und die passenden Schuhe
aussuchte. Anschliessend gab es noch Make-up, Parfüm und als Krönung ein
Halsband, Armband und Ohrringe. Darauf gingen sie noch zu ihrer Coiffeuse, wo
seine Haare gefärbt wurden und er eine Dauerwelle erhielt. Zusätzlich erhielt
er noch Maniküre und Pediküre, wobei seine Nägel schön lackiert wurden. Am
späten Nachmittag kamen beide zu Hause an, mit Nadja schleppte er mehrere
Säcke in sein Haus. Anschliessend probierte er alles, wobei sie ihm vieles
erklären musste, er war dabei so unbeholfen. Alles passte wie angegossen. Zum
Abschluss des Tages gingen sie noch eine Kleinigkeit zu essen. Vorher gab sie
ihm noch eine Östrogentablette. Er trug eines der neu gekauften Kleider und
die schwarzen Pumps.
Nadja blieb auch über Nacht und am Sonntag bei ihm. Sie schlief im
Gästezimmer. Am nächsten Morgen führte sie ihn in die Geheimnisse der
weiblichen Toilette ein. Unteranderem entfernte sie alle seine Körperhaare
mittels Enthaarungscrčme. Am Nachmittag gingen sie noch ein wenig spazieren,
wobei er natürlich die neu erworbenen Kleider trug. Nadja hatte alle seine
männlichen Kleidungsstücke bereits am Samstag einer karitativen Organisation
gespendet. Nach einem kleinem Abendimbiss, bei welchem er eine weitere
Östrogentablette erhalten hatte, verliess ihn Nadja. Am nächsten Morgen kam er
in einem taillierten dunkelblauen Jupé mit rosa Bluse zur Arbeit.
Ich liess ihn kommen und nahm ihn unter die Lupe und erklärte, so gefalle er
mir deutlich besser. Sein Kollege hatte sich nicht daran gehalten und war in
Hosen erschienen. Vor der gesamten Belegschaft stauchte ich ihn zusammen und
er bekam eine weitere Verwarnung und Gehaltskürzung. Am nächsten Tag trug er
dann endlich auch Frauenkleidung, ein gelbes Kleid. Die Arbeit lief recht gut
weiter. Die Frauen fühlten sich sehr wohl und waren sehr motiviert. Bei den
Kaffeepausen waren die männer ein unangenehmer Störfaktor, aber noch geduldet,
jedoch diskutierten wir fast nur noch Frauenthemen. Falls die Rede auf männer
kam, wurde nur darüber gespottet.
An der nächsten Freitagnachmittagssitzung unterstellte ich sie direkt Agnes
und sie seien rangmässig unter den drei Sekretärinnen, welche ihnen gegenüber
auch weisungsbefugt sind. Dazu mussten sie fortan der gesamten Abteilung den
Kaffee servieren und fortan sei es auch ihre Aufgabe zu putzen. Ebenso
brauchten sie auch keine Computer mehr und mussten diese abgeben.
Am Montag zitierte Agnes die Chefsekretärin, die beiden in ihr Büro und vor
allen Sekretärinnen inspizerte sie die beiden, gab dann ihnen Anweisungen. Sie
gab ihnen dabei auch gleich den Tarif durch, Widerspruch werde sie auf keinen
Fall akzeptieren. Die Sekretärinnen und Nadja seien jeweils zu siezen, während
die männer weiterhin geduzt werden. Sie gaben ihr Einverständnis dazu. Agnes
kontrollierte ihre Arbeit und konnte dadurch viele Fehler vermeiden.
Es gab kontinuierlich weitere notwendige Auflagen und Einschränkungen für die
beiden männer. Für eine Frau wäre dies Beleidigungen gewesen, aber sie
akzeptierten es, denn es waren sinnvolle und gerechte Massnahmen. Zum Beispiel
mussten sie sich für die Toiletten bei Nicole abmelden.
An der nächsten Freitagnachmittagssitzung wurden sie hierarchisch weiter
runter gestuft, sie waren jetzt Nadja unterstellt, welche ab jetzt ihre
direkte Vorgesetzte war und der Lohn wurde ihnen weiter gekürzt. Dazu durften
sie auch keinen Schmuck mehr tragen. Sie schenkten ihren Schmuck Nadja, die
sich freute. Eine eigene Wohnung würden sie sich auch bald nicht mehr leisten
können und mussten schauen, wo ich unterkommen könnten.
Für das darauffolgende verlängerte Wochenende (sowohl Freitag wie Montag waren
frei) lud ich die ganze Abteilung in meine Villa ein. Die männer sollten
bereits zwei Stunden vorher eintreffen. Angekommen erklärte ich ihnen, sie
wären die Dienstmädchen für das Wochenende und dürften unsFrauen bedienen. Ich
wies sie an, die entsprechenden Gewänder, welche in einem Kellergemach bereit
lagen, anzuziehen und sich dann bei mir zu melden. Sie bereiten darauf alles
für den Empfang vor. Danach trafen die Frauen ein, welche sie kaum beachteten.
Nach dem ausgiebigen Essen mit feinen Dessert, welches uns Frauen sehr
schmeckte, brachte Nadja sie zurück in das Kellergemach, kettete sie an und
sperrte die Türe ab, damit wir Frauen ungestört diskutieren konnten.
Bei der Diskussion wurde beschlossen, dass alle vom Büro zusammenziehen
sollten. Die beiden männer waren das einzige Problem. Die Frage war reicht
dafür ein Keuschheitsgürtel oder sei eine definitive Lösung wie kastrieren
nicht viel eleganter. Die Diskussion war recht kurz, denn mit dem Entfernen
der überflüssigen genitalien war eine wahrhaft elegante Lösung gefunden, die
sogleich umgesetzt wurde.
Sie wurden in einen grossen Raum geführt, wo wir ihnen ihr weiteres Schicksal
eröffneten. Sie stimmten sofort zu. Darauf begann das ganze Prozedere, Nicole
und Verena durfte ihnen nach dem Auspeitschen die Genitalien entfernen. Das
Abschneiden war kurz und schmerzlos. Die beiden Pakete wurde unter grossen
Gelächter von uns Frauen verbrannt. Wir waren sehr froh, dass wir so etwas
nicht hatten. Anschliessend küssten die Eunuch allen Frauen die Füsse und
bedankten sich für die Entmannung.
Danach feierten wir Frauen die Versklavung der männer. Sie wurden in das
Kellergemach zurückgeführt, angekettet und eingesperrt. Da sassen sie in
Ketten gelegt, kastriert und hatten ihre Freiheit endgültig verloren.
Andrerseits durften sie jetzt uns vorzüglichen Frauen als Sklaven dienen. Wir
wurden von einigem entlastet. Somit hatte ihr Leben endlich einen Sinn
bekommen.
Wegen ihrer Wohngelegenheiten musste sie sich auch keine Sorge mehr machen,
die würde demnächst aufgelöst werden und Lohnkürzungen gäbe es auch keine
mehr. Das Kastrieren und die Versklavung war das beste, was ihnen passieren
konnte.
Wir Frauen lebten fortan in der Villa zusammen, arbeiteten weiter, während die
beiden Eunuch uns in der Villa bedienten und sich um das Anwesen kümmerten.
Wir konnten uns endlich sehr gut selbstverwirklichen. Die Abteilung
entwickelte sich prächtig und wurde bald die beste des ganzen Konzerns. Wir
Frauen waren sehr glücklich, lebten harmonisch zusammen, entfalteten uns
vollkommen und blühten richtig auf. Es war die reinste Freude daran
teilzuhaben.
Freue mich auf Eure Kommentare, vielleicht gibt es eine Fortsetzung oder eine
verbesserte Version
* * * |
Jimmy | GAY, BI | Ein kleiner Taschendieb wird erwischt. Was er nicht wissen konnte, er hätte niemals diese Brieftasche stehlen dürfen, niemals, denn........lest selber, viel spaß | Jimmy
Jimmy rannte, er war auf der Flucht. Er zuvor eine Brieftasche gestohlen,
davon lebte er, von kleinen Taschendiebstählen. Nie hatte man ihn so verfolgt,
noch nicht einmal die Polizei. Jimmy bog in eine Seitenstraße ein, die
Verfolger, drei Männer dicht hinter ihm. Jimmy schwitzte, die Nacht im Juli
war warm, jetzt um 23.00 Uhr waren es noch 25 °. Er sah eine offene Stalltür
und hetzte in den Stall, versteckte sich hinter einem Heustapel.
„ Hier rein ist die Sau, hinterher“ hörte Jimmy einen Mann. Sie kamen in den
Stall, Jimmy kauerte sich zusammen atmete kaum noch. Da traf ihn ein
Lichtkegel. „ Ich hab ihn hier, hier her.“
Jimmy spürte einen heftigen Schlag auf den Kopf, es wurde dunkel,
Was Jimmy nicht wissen konnte, er hatte die Brieftasche von Ben, Sohn des
Paten, dem Maffiaboss gestohlen, seine Verfolger waren die Leibwachen von Ben.
Jimmy öffnete seine Augen, er blinzelte sah Licht konnte aber nur alles wie
durch Nebel sehen. Er hatte Kopfschmerzen. Jimmy merkte das er nicht mehr im
Stall war, er lag auf dem Boden, seine Arme waren festgebunden, gestreckt
hinter seinem Kopf. Er sah an die Decke, ein gespanntes Seil konnte er sehen.
Sein Blick verfolgte das Seil nach unten, es war ein seinen Hoden angebunden
und leicht gespannt. Er lag dort nackt auf einer Matratze.
„ Die Sau wird wach“ rief jemand. Jimmy spürte wie seine Hoden hochgezogen
wurden, er hatte Schmerzen, die immer heftiger wurden.
Ein Schatten ging auf ihn zu, bückte sich. „ Na du kleine Sau, was hast du dir
nur dabei gedacht, Taschendiebe wie du einer bist, den sollte man die Eier
abschneiden.“
Sofort wurde das Seil gespannt, er sah wie die Hoden anschwollen, dunkelrot
wurden, es brannte, sein Sack schien gleich abzureißen, Jimmy schrie vor
Schmerzen.
„ Aufhören, ihr Idioten, losbinden“ hörte Jimmy.
Die Schmerzen ließen nach.
„ Ben, wir haben dich nicht kommen hören, wir wollten nur wissen für welchem
Clan der Arbeitet.“
„ Halts Maul, da liegt doch bares Geld, seht ihr das denn nicht.“ Sagte Ben „
stellt ihn hin, löst die Fessel.
Jimmy wurde befreit und aufgerichtet. Jetzt erkannte er die Personen, vor ihm
das musste Ben sein, die beiden dahinter kannte er nicht und etwas abseits
stand eine Frau.
Ben sah Jimmy an, sein Gesicht, den Oberkörper, seine Hand ging Richtung
Brustwarze, Ben fasste sie zwischen Zeigefinger und Daumen seiner rechten
Hand, er zog etwas, und zwirbelte sie. Sofort stand sein Schwanz und wurde
prall. Ein Leuchten ging über Bens Gesicht. Er packte Jimmys Schwanz, knetete
ihn, mit einem Ruck riss er die Vorhaut zurück, Jimmy schrie kurz auf. „ Ruhe
du Sau“ sagte Ben. Jimmy jammerte weiter. „ Sei ruhig“ sagte Ben nochmals,
Jimmy hörte nicht auf. Da traf Jimmy ein fester Tritt in seine Hoden, er ging
schmerzgekrümmt zu Boden.
„ Aufstehen“ befahl Ben. Jimmy kam hoch, wackelte etwas. „ Dreh dich um und
bück dich.“ Jimmy tat sofort was befohlen wurde, mit dem war nicht zu spaßen.
Jimmy spürte wie Ben seinen Finger in seine Rosette schieben wollte, aber
Jimmy war eng, er hatte noch niemals einen Schwanz oder Dildo in seinem Arsch
gehabt.
„ Das ist eine Jungfrau, das gibt es nicht.“ Jubelte Ben, „ hab ich es nicht
gesagt, da liegt bares Geld rum. Stork soll kommen, sofort.“ Befahl Ben.
Stork war innerhalb einer Minute im Raum. Jimmy durfte sich umdrehen und sah
Stork. Ein Mann etwa 49 Jahre alt, schlank, durchtrainiert, grauharig und
eiskalte graue Augen.
„ Hier Stork, der ist was für dich, Frischfleisch, reite den ein, er muss
Belastbar werden. Ich will das er Ringe bekommt und Hengst wird.“
Ein Raunen ging bei dem Wort Hengst durch den Raum.
„ Was soll das, ich will das der hier einer meiner Hengste wird ist das klar.“
Schrie Ben.
Niemand sagte etwas, Stork ging aus dem Raum und kam wenig später mit einem
Halsband zurück. Das band er um Jimmys Hals, stramm aber so das er gut atmen
konnte. In die Öse, die fast über dem Kehlkopf war klinkte er eine Leine ein,
dann riss er Jimmy hinter sich her.
In einem anderen Gebäudetrakt zog Stork Jimmy in einen Raum, dieser hatte
vergitterte Fenster, An der Wand war ein Andreaskreuz, Peitschen, Lederwäsche
Dildos in verschiedensten Formen und Größen waren in Regalen zu sehen.
„ Hör gut zu Hengst, du weist gar nicht was du für ein Schwein hast, jeden
Dieb hat Ben bisher zum Eunuchen gemacht, du wirst hier ausgebildet, machst du
einen Fehler, versuchst du zu flüchten oder verweigerst du den Gehorsam, ci
kastriere dich reiß dir die Eier aus deinem erbärmlichen Balg, ist das klar
Hengst. Um seinen Worten Gewicht zu geben kniff er Jimmy in seine Hoden und
verdrehte sie. Dem nicht genug, er wechselte die Hand und verdrehte sie um
fast 180°. Jimmy wollte schreien, sah aber zu Stork wie er langsam den Kopf
schüttelte. Jimmy blieb ruhig.
„ So, der Hengst hat schon gelernt, braves Tier.“ Stork ließ von ihm ab, ging
in einen Nebenraum und kam zu Jimmy zurück. Er stellet eine Dose Rasierschaum
und Einwegrasierer auf eine Tisch. „ Du rasiertst dich“ und zeigte auf Jimmys
Schwanz. „ Sehe ich auch nur ein Haar, ich brenne sie dir aus.
Ich hoffe du weist wo du ab jetzt dran bist.“
Stork verließ den Raum und schloß ihn ab. Jimmy sah sich um, er fand einen
kleinen Raum mit Spülbecken und Dusche. Langsam trug er den Rasierscham auf
seine Schambehaarung, dann rasierte er sich die Haare ab. Blitzblank war er
nach einer halben Stunde. Die Achselhöhlen rasierte er gleich mit, sicher ist
sicher.
Er empfand die Kühle am Schwanz und Sack angenehm und begann sich zu wichsen,
als die Tür aufging. Stork und eine Frau betraten den Raum.
„ Laß das sein du Sau“ fegte ihn die Frau an. Stork kam näher, kniff in seine
Brustwarze verdrehte sie. Jimmy schrie. „ Machst du Sau das noch einmal ohne
unsere Erlaubnis, ich schneide dir den Nippel ab.“
Jimmy war geschockt und ließ seinen Schwanz los.
Stork wand sich an die Frau, Tanja hieß sie. „ Wir bereiten ihn jetzt vor.“
Tanja nahm Jimmy zur Seite. „ Hör zu, wir haben hier Spielregeln die du
einhalten wirst. Erstens, du bist Dreck, mehr nicht. Wixen darfst du erst wenn
wir dir das sagen. Wenn Stork dir sagt bück dich ich will ficken dann machst
du das. Und nun zum Ablauf, du bist der Hengst, wir bereiten dich darauf vor,
keine Fragen, du bekommst eine Hodenmanschette, zwei Nippelringe und dein
Arsch wird gedehnt. Keine Fragen, wir wollen nur dein bestes, machst du nicht
mit, weigerst du dich, der Pate versteht keinen Spaß.“
Jimmy verstand, was sollte er machen sich wehren?
Tanja brachte ihn zu einem Tisch, er musste sich am Ende auf die Kante setzen,
die Bein nach unten zum Boden, danach musste er sich hinlegen. Tanja war
inzwischen nackt, kletterte aus den Tisch und kniete mit ihren Fotze über
Jimmys Mund. Jimmy sah ihre rasierte Fotze, wie sie sich langsam auf seine
Mund setzte “Leck mich“ sagte Tanja
Sork hatte sich ebenfalls ausgezogen und drückte Jimmys Beine nach oben,
spreizte sie und Tanja zog sie zu sich. Jimmys Arschloch war nun gut zu sehen.
Stork rieb seine Rosette mit Gleitmittel gut ein. Er setzte seinen fetten
Schwanz an und drückte die Eichel gegen die Rosette. Jimmy tat das weh, aber
als die Eichel in den Arsch eindrang schrie er auf. Tanja merkte das und hob
kurz die Fotze etwas hoch. „ Du brauchst eine Erfrischung“ sagte sie zu Jimmy
und pisste ihm ins Gesicht, dann senkte sie die Fotze auf den Mund. Jimmy
schluckte und musste husten. In diesem Moment rammte Stork seinen Schwanz mit
voller wucht bis zum Anschlag in Jimmys Arsch hinein.
Jimmy quiekte, er hatte das Gefühl das sein Arsch jeden Moment platzen würde.
Er schluckte den Rest Natursekt, dann hob Tanja ihre Fotze von ihm. „ Keine
Laut“ drohte sie. Stork begann Jimmy zu ficken, langsam bewegte er seinen
Schwanz in seinem Arsch. Es tat höllisch weh, aber nach einiger Zeit empfand
Jimmy es als angenehmes Gefühl.
Dann spritze Stork ab, das warme Sperma spürte Jimmy in seinem Arsch. Stork
ließ seinen Schwanz stecken, bewegte ihn nicht. Jimmy verspürte wieder Wärme
in seinem Darm, aber so lange so viel kann keiner spritzen, zumindest kein
Sperma. Dann merkte Jimmy, Stork hatte ihm in den Arsch gepisst.
Sein Darm füllte sich, fast zum platzen, es wurde wärmer in ihm. Stork zog
seinen Schwanz heraus, „ Kneif deinen Arsch zu, dann griff er zu Jimmys
Schwanz und zog ihn Richtung Toilette, „ entlehre dich und komm dann zurück.“
Nachdem Jimmy seinen Darminhalt ausgeschissen hatte und sich gereinigt hatte
kam er zu Stork und Tanja zurück. Beide führte ihn zum Andreaskreuz und banden
ihn dort fest.
„ Wir werden dir deine Nippel vereisen und dann diese Metallringe einsetzen.“
Sagte Stork. Es waren 6 mm starke Ringe mit Kugelverschluß die einen
Durchmesser von 50 mm hatten. Tanja setzte die Spritzen und Stork setzte die
Ringe ein. Danach bekam Jimmy seine Hodenmanschette. „ Die bleibt drum, nur
zum Rasieren darfst du sie abnehmen.“
Nachdem die Manschette angeschnallt war, wurden Gewichte angehängt, auch an
den Nippeln kamen Gewichte.
„ Nun zum Tagesablauf“ Tanja stand vor Jimmy. „ Du wirst morgens um 7.00 Uhr
aufstehen, dich rasieren, mit rasieren meine ich auch Sack und Schwanz. Die
Gewichte werden täglich erhöht. Deine Ringe werden von uns behandelt damit die
sich nicht entzünden.“
Jimmy nickte. Beide, Stork und Tanja zogen sich an und gingen. Gegen Abend
kamen beide wieder, „ Bettruhe“ sagte Tanja. Jimmy musste sich auf das Bett
legen. Von der Decke wurden Bänder heruntergelassen. Die Hodenmanschette wurde
eingehängt und an beiden Nippeln wurde jeweils ein Band eingehängt. Dann
wurden die Seile hochgezogen.
Jimmy sah wie sein Sack gezogen wurde, beide Eier kamen eindrucksvoll zur
Geltung und schwollen an. Die Nippel wurden immer länger, es zwickte heftig
der Schmerz war auszuhalten. In seinem Arsch wurde ein 5 cm dicker Dildo
geschoben und fixiert.
„ Bis morgen früh“
Am nächsten Morgen gegen 6.00 Uhr wurde Jimmy von den Bändern befreit. Es war
eine Erleichterung. Jimmy stand auf und sah in den Spiegel, er erschrak, seine
Nippel hatten sich schon etwas gedehnt, sie hingen herunter unter dem Gewicht
der Ringe. Sein Sack war ebenfalls länger als vorher.
Diese Tortur, gefickt zu werden, gedehnt zu werden ging nun schon seit zwei
Wochen.
Seine Hoden waren gefühllos, seine Nippel ebenfalls. Nur sein Arsch, da spürte
er noch immer sehr heftig wenn Stork ihn durchfickte.
An einem Montag wurden Jimmy die Hodengewichte entfernt, der Dildo wurde ihm
ebenfalls aus dem Arsch gezogen. An seine Nippelringe wurden Lederriemen
befestigt, die waren fast 4 Meter lang. Tanja führte ihn in den Hof. Er musste
sich Schuhe anziehen. Tanja ging in die Mitte des Hofes und Jimmy musste
loslaufen, wie es im Pferdesport gemacht wird. Nach zwei Runden kam Ben in den
Hof. „ Oh, er trabt ja schon unser Hengst, spannt den mal ein“
Jonny wurde zur Seite gezogen und Stork kam mit einem Sulky zu Jimmy. Tanja
stellte sich vor Jimmy: „ Wir spannen dich jetzt vor das Sulky. Die Stange
wird an deine Eier gehängt. Hier dieser Zapfen kommt in deinem Arsch hinein,
das ist so eine Art Schutz, damit wenn du stark abbremst du dir deine Eier
nicht abreißt. Jimmy begriff, er war ein Spielzeug des Paten, ein Hengst.
Stork schob den Zapfen in Jimmys Arsch, zuvor hatte er sehr viel Gleitmittel
aufgetragen. Tanja hängte die Stange in die Ösen der Manschette ein. Die
Lederriemen wurden unter seinen Armen nach hinten zum Sulky geführt, ein
Riemen rechts, einer links.
Tanja rief: „ Wenn ich rechts ziehe gehst du nach rechts, und riß an der
rechten Leine, ziehe ich links gehst du nach links und wenn ich beide ziehe
bleibst du stehen.
Und jetzt trab los“
Jimmy ging los, sein Sack spannte sich und das Sulky setzte sich in Bewegung,
„ Schneller“ rief Tanja. Im leichten Dauerlauf trabte Jimmy weiter. Bei jedem
Schritt wurde seine Eier nach unten und hinten gerissen. Nach drei Runden war
konnte Jimmy aufhören. Ben war zufrieden. „ In drei Wochen tritt er an.“
Für Jimmy begann das Training, es war hart. Täglich wurde er eingespannt, sein
Arsch brannte, seine Eier spürte er nicht mehr und wenn er auf seine Nippel
sah, die waren fast 4 cm lang und völlig gefühllos.
„ Du wirst in drei Tagen antreten.“ Sagte Tanja eines Abends zu Jimmy. „ Es
ist so, der Pate hat sehr viel Geld auf deinen Sieg gesetzt. Verlierst du,
geht es die sehr, sehr schlecht. Gewinnst du, behältst du dein Gehänge, du
verstehst.
Jimmy verstand und wurde ernst. „Wo werde ich antreten?“
„ In einem Rennen mit drei weiteren Hengsten.“
Tanja zog sich aus, nahm Jimmy Schwanz und blies ihn. Dann durfte Jonny sie
ficken, Fotze und Arsch fickte er abwechselnd. Stork kam hinzu. Er hielt
seinen Arsch hin und Jimmy durfte auch ihn ficken. „ Du darfst in meinen Arsch
pissen wenn du willst“ sagte Stork. Das ließ sich Jimmy nicht ein zweites mal
sagen, er füllte Storks Darm mit seinem Sekt. „ Oh, ich will auch“ rief Tanja
Aber Jonny hatte sich schon entleert.
Tanja gab ihm Wasser, Jonny musste trinken bis er Druck verspürte. Dann nahm
er Tanja von hinten, er schob seinen Schwanz ganz langsam in Tanjas Arsch,
holte tief luft und rammte dann mit voller Wucht seine Schwanz in sie hinein.
Tanja stöhnte auf, Nochmal“ rief sie. Jimmy wieder holte den Stoß und rammte
sein ding noch fester in Tanja. Sie bekam gar nicht genug. Dann, holte hielt
Jimmy kurz inne, zog seinen Schwanz bis zur Eichel heraus fasste Tanja bei den
Hüften und riß sie zu sich, gleichzeitig rammte er seine Schwanz in Tanjas
Arsch. Tanja jubelte in den höchsten Tönen und Jimmy fpllte nun auch ihren
Darm mit seinem Sekt.
Tanja war entzückt, noch niemals zuvor wurde ihr Arsch so gefickt.
Danach wurde Jimmy gefickt, Stork gab alles. Nachdem sich Stork entladen hatte
kam Tanja mit einem Megadildo. „Hier setzt dich drauf.“
Jonny setzte sich auf den Dildo, er war an der dicksten Stelle fast 12 cm im
Durchmesser. Langsam versenkte er die Spitze des Ungetüms in seinen Arsch. „
Der geht nicht mehr weiter.“ Meinte Jimmy. Da stelle sich Tanja mit ihrem
Arsch vor Jimmy und ließ sich auf die angewinkelten Knie von Jimmy fallen. Das
zeigte eine ernorme Wirkung. Das Monster wurde in Jimmy Arsch getrieben. „ Da
geht noch mehr“ sagte Stork und wieder ließ sich Tanja fallen. Jimmy Arsch war
nun völlig überdehnt. Das Monster steckte in ihm, aber es war ein sehr
angenehmes Gefühl.
Dann kam der Tag, schon am Morgen kamen Gäste, im Hof traf Jimmy auf seine
Konkurrenten.
Der erste war ein schmächtiger, auffallend war sein langer dicker Schwanz. Der
Andere, ein Schwarzer war sehr durchtrainiert. „ Der da,“ sagte Tanja“ auf den
musst du aufpassen, das ist ein Wallach, der hat sich vor zwei Jahren ein Ei
abgerissen, das andere spürt er nicht mehr.
Gegen Mittag waren die Hengste und der Wallach vor die Sulkys gespannt. Die
Fahrer oder Fahrerinnen saßen in den Sulkys. Jimmy war der zweite von rechts.
Dann das Stratzeichen. Die Hoden streckten sich und die Gespanne fuhren los,
Der Wallach führte schon nach wenigen Metern. Jimmy bekam die Zügel zu spüren,
ein Zeichen schneller zu laufen. Die Deichsel wippte auf und ab, die Hoden
wurden nach unten, nach hinten gerissen. Aber er holte auf und Ende der
zweiten Runde lag er gleich auf mit dem Wallach, die anderen Hengste waren
weit abgeschlagen. Tanja zod den Zügel nach links, die Brustwarze wurde immer
länger, Jimmy spürte nur den Zug, keinen Schmerz. Er zog nach links rüber und
prallte gegen den Wallach. Der kam ins straucheln
Jimmy rannte wie ein besessener, er spürte seine Hoden nicht mehr, die jetzt
10 cm herunterhingen. Er kam als erster über die Ziellinie. Als er zur anderen
Seite schaute, sahr er wie sich der Wallach am Boden krümmte. Durch den Sturz
hatte sich die Deichsel tief in den Arsch des Wallachs geschoben, sein Hoden
war abgerissen.“ Der ist am Ende“ dachte Jimmy.
Ben kam zu Jimmy und Tanja. „ Gut gelaufen, gut Trainiert.“
Jimmy wurde noch zu einer Menge Rennen eingespannt.
* * * |
The Hike The Last Part | BI | Mr. Porter gave the Idaho cop a good enough line to keep from getting a ticket, but this is what really happened. | ` My introduction the Robert Porter came by was of my six-year-old daughter,
who was in the same grade school class as he. We were eating supper one
evening when I casually asked her what she had learned in school that day. `
"Black boys have bigger pee-pees than white boys, daddy." She stated
innocently.
I nearly choked, as did my wife, and my teenage son spit his food out
laughing.
"Really?" I had partially regained my composure.
"Yes. Bobby Porter said that his was bigger than any of the other boys, and he
showed it to us when Jimmy said that his was bigger. Bobby's was this long,"
she said, holding her fingers about three inches apart, "and Jimmy's was only
like this."
I didn't consider this to be acceptable behavior, so the next day I
accompanied her to school to confront her teacher.
"Don't get upset, Mr. Wilson." She said. "It wasn't any big deal, and I'll
make sure that it doesn't happen again."
____________________________________________________________________
I saw quite a bit of Porter during his and my daughter's grade and middle
school years. The boy was a natural athlete, and he excelled at all kinds of
sports. Unfortunately he developed an attitude common to many athletes in that
he felt that the rules of society didn't apply to him. I don't know if this
was a result of his welfare background or if he just learned to manipulate
people, but it was apparent that even though Porter may not have started
trouble he was never very far away from it either.
His first referral to me came after he had shoplifted some condoms. Our new
Governor had just passed some long overdue laws to help stem sexual abuse, and
Porter's case was a perfect opportunity for me to use my authority and send
him on a desert hike. He may tell you that I did it because of his race, but
the fact that he called me a 'honky motherfucker' had nothing to do with my
decision.
I dispute his story about what happened on that trip, only because I know that
the state would never allow a pervert to molest kids on one of these outings,
and although it was unfortunate how the trip ended, I felt that it had served
it's purpose and that I was unlikely to have further dealins with Porter.
I was shocked when he told me the reason he broke into the vending machine,
not about what he did but because he was dumb enough to admit it. He must have
skipped school or have been out on the ball field when they warned all of the
kids about breaking the Sex Crime laws, and I had no choice but to recommend
that he be sent to the camp.
He tells the camp story as if he was an innocent victim, but one thing he
doesn't know is that surveillance camers were all over the camp and that we
knew what he was doing every minute of the day. We had him pegged from the
start as being sexually deviant and we knew that he was masturbating with
other kids several times a day. He was also in the habit of taking charge
during these encounters and we know that he initiated the homosexual
intercourse in the laundry room. I would have preferred to send him to the
reformatory instead of the other boy, but I didn't have that prerogative.
He actually did seem improved when he returned to school that fall, although I
knew in my heart he would never change, and of course I warned my daughter to
avoid him and everyone else of his race.
Mr. Porter is in a state of denial concerning his rape of my daughter. I know
she is honest and I am absolutely positive that her version of the event is
true and he is lying. A girlfriend of hers heard from someone else that the
Porter boy was extremely well endowed, so as a harmless teenage prank they
decided to measure him, and my daughter drew the short straw. That is the only
reason she pretended to be attracted to him, as it is absurd that a
sophisticated white girl would have any desire to be with a black whose
ancestors were slaves. Her plan was to excite him, measure him with her hand,
and then leave. He obviously couldn't control himself and brutally raped her
before she could flee. My daughter was an innocent victim, but she did make
some poor decisions, and for that she was severely chastised and grounded for
two weeks.
As her father I took great pleasure in recommending that he be incarcerated
and chemically castrated. I knew from experience that people of his race can
never reform without being physically modified, so shortly before his
eighteenth birthday I recommended that he be permanently neutered and I made
plans to be there.
I ordered his Depo injections to be ceased a month before the event so that he
could regain full sensitivity in his testes and have a brief period of hormone
and sperm production. On the appointed day I exercised my right, as father of
the victim, to mete out the punishment that is traditional for black boys who
molest white girls, and I must say that the feeling of power that I felt as I
slowly removed his gonads stayed with me a long time. I was also secretly
relieved that his last seed was wasted on his hairless belly instead of being
properly sown.
The boy says that he may look me up when he gets to Spokane. I welcome the
opportunity to chat with him now that he is a civilized adult and is willing
to show me the respect that I deserve.
* * * |
Desert Cutting, The - Part 2 | STRAIGHT, MINOR | A boy is prepared. | ` Jody had no idea how much time had passed. When he awoke he was lying on a
bed, in a room with the curtains pulled. He felt weak and groggy. As his mind
began to clear he realised he was naked. He could not move. He then realised
that both his wrists were strapped to the sides of the bed. When he tried to
move he realised that his legs were stretched apart and his ankles were also
secured. He felt sore between his legs. When he raised his head he could see a
white pad taped between his legs. He began to feel frightened now. What had
happened , what had they done to him?. Vague memories of being in a car, of
pain between his thighs, started to come back to him. He must have been here
for some time. He remembered a woman taping something between his legs a
number of times. And injecting him with something. Suddenly the door opened. A
woman entered, middle aged, plump with greying hair. She was followed by a
younger woman with long black hair and dressed in a white coat. `
"He is awake, good" said the older woman.
She smiled at him and sat in the edge of the bed facing him.
" Why am I here, what do you want, let me go. His mouth was dry, he could
barely get the words out.
She smiled at him.
" Do not be afraid child" she said quietly. " it is over now".
" Where am I , why am I here" he shouted at her. His mind was beginning to
clear now, and he felt even more frightened.
" This lady and I have been looking after you for the past week" she said ,
pointing to the other woman in the room.
" Why, why were you looking after me, what were you doing, let me go, let me
go" he screamed at her.
" We were tending your little wounds, the little wounds between your legs" she
said quietly.
Jody looked down at the pad between his legs. A terrible fear began to grow in
him now.
"What have you done to me" he screamed, tears in his eyes now.
She laid her hand gently on his tummy, stroking him softly.
" Do you remember those two women who took you into the desert in their car"
she asked.
Jody nodded.
" Well, they took you there for a purpose".
" For what, for what" he cried.
" Well, you have to be told, so it might as well be now" she said.
She slid her hand down his tummy . She undid the tape holding the small pad
between his legs and took his penis in her hand.
She looked him straight in the face.
" You have been cut Jody" she said sadly. " You were taken into the desert a
week ago and cut. Do you know what being cut means?. You have been castrated
Jody, your little testicles have been removed.
Her hand slid between his legs.
" They took your little stones out" she said.
His mouth was open but he could not speak.
" You were gelded for a purpose which I will explain later" she said sadly.
* * * |
How to make a Cherub | STRAIGHT, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, MINOR | At a time of global overpopulation, a young child is brought in for sterilization. The doctor in charge is reluctant, but curious. Alone with the child, how far will she go? | ` `
HOW TO MAKE A CHERUB
Ý
She led the young boy down the hall, her hand upon his shoulder. His small
muscles were tense but yielding under her grip. He had no idea his budding
manhood was about to be taken from him, or that she would be the one to
castrate him.
It was a stupid law, and she wasn't comfortable with it. It was, however the
law. She was obliged to uphold it. Three children were more than enough for
one family in a time of over- population. Four was unacceptable. So the
sterilization law had come into effect again after eighty years of obscurity.
Children from too large a home were sterilized as were criminals, and
simpletons. If one must control the population, one could be selective about
who could breed and who could not.
Kyle had been taken from his mother at birth, confiscated by the juvenile
authorities. She and her husband had been sterilized soon after, and Kyle had
been placed in foster care.
Now he was old enough for the operation and had been brought in by his
adoptive parent, part of the contract that allowedÝhim to keep Kyle. She still
thought age seven was too young but who was she to argue.
He was small and slight, almost feminine in his appearance. His blond hair
hung shoulder length and curled at the ends. A few strands hung in front of
his eyes, making her want desperately to push them out of the way. But as she
was taught, she maintained her professional distance.
Kyle loped along at the doctor's side. He looked up at her, she seemed
distracted, and he wondered why. The pretty doctor with the red hair had
always been nice to him. She had been his doctor since before he could
remember. Her examinations had always been brief, and she had spent the most
time just trying to make him laugh. It bothered him she wasn't trying to do
that now.
" Wassa Matter Doctor Geller."
" Oh nothing Kyle." She said." I wouldn't worry myself over it if I were you."
She waited a moment knowing too much silence would cause him to be uneasy."
You do know you're going to have a little operation today?"
" Is it going to hurt?" he asked." Like getting a needle."
" No Kyle," she tried to assure him." It will be different. You will get a
needle though, after that it wont hurt any."
" Oh," he said, and seemed satisfied with that answer.
" Here we are." Doctor Geller said as they came to a door marked 'Outpatient
Operation room'." In we go." and she held the door for him.
Kyle ran in, and at once was opening drawers, and examining the things he
found in them as if he knew what they were for.
" Ok." She said to distract him." Better take off your clothes now."
He sighed good and loud just so she'd know his displeasure at having to submit
so soon, then got to work unbuttoning his shirt.
Dr. Geller found her tools already laid out on the stand beside the table, and
began to arrange them as she would need them. Normally such a task was
reserved for the assisting nurse, but
this was a simple opperation, and she didn't need a nurse.
Once finished, she looked up to see Kyle, he had taken his shirt off, but was
struggling with the belt on his pants. She went over to help him, and found
his struggling had only made matters worse. The belt pin had jammed under the
guide bar and was impossible to undo. In the end she was forced to cut it off
with power snips.
The time she spent bent down in front of him, gave Kyle a moment to examine
her hair. His fingers lightly ran through it, and it smelled of faint roses
and cotton candy.
As doctor Geller stood triumphantly with the cut belt in hand, Kyle's touch
lingered on a crimson lock that hung from her ear.
" You're really pretty Doctor Geller." he said with honesty." And you smell
pretty. Not like other doctors, they smell like sick people. You smell like
cherry bubble gum."
Doctor Geller blushed at the awkward compliment." You're going to be a real
hearbreaker when you grow up." she said not thinking, then damned herself for
saying it.
Kyle undressed the rest of the way and stood waiting for the doctor's
approval. The doctor took a moment to admire his small form. He was all cream
colored skin, totally without wrinkle or blemish. His soft hairless body grew
goose bumps in the cool operating room. He was thin and lean, no unnecesary
weight but for the slight chub in his cheeks that added to his winning smile.
Ý
His penis seemed on the small side. Tiny actually, even for a child of
seven.ÝOf course soon it wouldn't matter. Had he been born a third child
instead of a fourth, he would have grown into a strong man and had healthy
children.
The naked child's arms swun back and forth self-consciously under her
scrutiny. The action made him look unbearably handsome, as young children have
a way of doing. To her surprise, she felt a slight stirring in her loins, a
moment of unobtainable desire.
" Ok cutie." She said at last." Up on the table.
Kyle couldn't quite make it himself, and doctor Geller helped him up with a
pat on the backside. His buttocks was firm and round in her hand, and she let
her hand remain there for a moment longer than neccesary, enjoying the
softness and roundness of his bottom.
Kyle gave her another one of his glowing smiles as he landed on the table. She
let him sit there with his legs dangling off the edge. Her professional
detatchment was breached for a moment as she let her hand stroke his bare
thigh, and contemplate his tiny manhood. Kyle didn't seem to notice the
infraction, and looked puzzled as she removed her hand.
It was then Doctor Geller realized the boy didn't know in what way it was
propper for a doctor to touch him. She let her hand return to explore. She had
often wondered what would happen if she allowed herself to touch a child in
that way. Usually there was a parent or nurse to supervise, and she had never
dared. Now though...
He wasn't circumsized, and she stroked the foreskin lifting it gently with the
inside of her index finger. His muscles quivered involuntarily at the touch."
Lay back." she told him and he obeyed.
She pushed the foreskin back gently to expose the end. It was pink and soft
and smaller than it should be for a boy of seven. She rubbed the end with a
soft stroke from her thumb. Touching a patch of dense nerves, his back arched
and he made a little high pitched noise.
She slid the tender skin down to the base of the penis shaft and Kyle held his
breath. The skin moved easily and she played a moment sliding it back and
forth, intregued at the ingenuity of it. Kyle shuddered in the instant of near
orgasm. She examined the tip. For the first time allowing herself to enjoy it.
She felt the ribs of nerves and unformed veinsÝunder the skin of the shaft.
With his tiny penis between her fingers, Kyle's back arched, and he shuddered
from the intensely new and strange feelings in his groin. His doll-like hands
gripped the sheet on the table.
Letting the skin recover the end she moved on to the testicles. Kyle drew a
quick breath.
" What are you doing Doctor Geller?" he asked as he breathed.
" Examining you." she answered in a firm tone." Try to relax and not to move."
The boy nodded, and lay still. his hands still gripped the table.
Doctor Geller wrapped her hand around the testicles. They were small and
tense, but rolled easily in the scrotum. The sack contracted at her contact,
and dissapeared within her hand. At this age, Kyle's testicles were little
more than a bundle of nerves and gristle. They had not yet begun to wake up,
and with them, Kyle's never-to-be sexuality.
In a few minutes, thought Geller, everything in her hand would be gone, but
she let her curiosity wander with the new experience. This would be the boy's
only chance to be touched in this way. She could deny neither of them the
experience.
She delighted in the softness of his skin. With both hands she massaged his
groin, feeling the tiny manhood, delicate and sublime under her fingers. The
paper thin skin, ivory colored. Minute veins criss crossing just below the
surface.
Like a tiny morsel of a bud waiting to bloom. It was more erotic than any man
she had ever touched. It was the forbidden fruit of a burried dream. To touch
and have total control.
" Roll over." She suddenly commanded. Again Kyle obeyed.
This time doctor Geller found herself running her hands down his back,
tenderly caressing his thighs and buttocks, sliding her finger into the space
between the thighs. Amazing in the perfect symetry of his shape. Her loins
were wet with temptation, and resisted joining him in his nudity, pull him
into herself and caress him. But that was far beyond what she could get away
with.
She slipped a finger gently into the space between his cheeks, and found his
tight anus. she circled the rose hole with her touch, before sliding her
finger inside. working slowly into him, she found the small lump, and pushed
it gently.
Kyle squirmed and she stroked his prostate. Geller thought to herself, that
one day, this would be the only pleasure avalable to him. She wondered if he
would submit himself to such a thing willingly, or if his father would show
him how to reach that feeling. She knew a little of Kyle's father and his
tastes, and she wouldn't put that past him.
But she was here to sterilize him, and so she would. she could not seduce him.
Not now, not ever." Flip over." she said finishing her exploration.
Doctor Geller sighed, with new knowledge, and in-fulfillment.
Kyle seemed not to notice anything out of the ordinary had occurred.
" Howcum I need an opperation?" Kyle asked suddenly." I'm not sick."
" I know Kyle." she agreed." This is an operation you have to have though.
It's the law."
The child was immune to this logic." But why? What's going to happen?"
Doctor Geller considered the best route to take. What would he understand?
What could she tell him that would allow her to perform the opperation without
restraining him?" Have you ever been kicked between the legs?" she asked,
simultaneously touching his scrotum so there could be no mistake. She casually
left her hand there, cupping his testes.
" Yeah." he said nodding a ferocious agreement." It hurt a lot. I thought I
would die."
" Well," she continued." The reason it hurt so much was because of your
testicles."
" My what?"
Doctor Geller now rolled the balls between her fingertips." These. Your body
dosen't realy need them. all they are are a mass of nerves. They hurt, and
cause trouble."
Kyle didn't look convinced." So?"
" So." Geller mimicked." we're going to take them out."
Kyle wasn't shocked or scared, just confused." But my daddy has balls, and
nobody made him have an operation."
Geller knew Kyle's father. She had been the first to diagnose his infertility.
She had been his doctor and confidant, giving him advise through all his
sexual experimentations. She was surprised he hadn't explained this procedure
to Kyle. It was she who had convinced him to adopt, even though all orphans
must eventually be sterilized. He had known all along this day would come. Now
here Kyle sat completely ignorant to the obvious.
" This law wasn't around when your daddy was a little boy." she explained."
But it's here now, and you," she pointed a finger at him." are a little boy."
Kyle still remained sckeptical for a moment then said," Ok Doctor Geller. I
understand."
" Good." she proclaimed." Let's begin." She began by spreading Iodine over the
area to prepare it.
Kyle giggled," That's cold."
" I know." she said." Before we start would you like a pillow so you can sit
up and watch, or would you rather lay down and relax."
Kyle thought a second." I'll rest."
" Good choice." she praised him." Very Mature."
Kyle beamed.
" Ok." she asked." Comfortable?"
" Mhmmm," he said on his back with his eyes closed.
Geller removed a hypo spray to numb the area, and pressed it down to the right
and left of his scrotum. It wouldn't deaden the testicles, but it would allow
her to painlessly inject the local anesthetic that would.
The big needle came next, but it took her a minute to find the nerve bundle in
the flesh before she could depress the plunger.
Kyle was looking up now, propped on his elbows, looking at his genitals,
covered in orange iodine." I cant feel anything down there." He proclaimed in
awe. then poked his scrotum to test the theory." Wow!"
" Watch your fingers." Geller demanded." I'm going to make the incision."
" I think I'd like that pillow now." He said. Keeping an eye on him, she
produced a pillow, and fluffed it so he would be at a comfortable angle to
observe.
" You may not want to look." she warned. there will be blood."
" S'ok." he said curious of what was happening." I don't mind."
She made the cut just below the base of the penis, and slid the scalpel
slicing all the way down to the base of the crotch.
Blood spilled out, but not enough to be called a gush. It quickly subsided.
Kyle's eyes were wide with shock. His doctor had just cut him open, and he was
watching.
Doctor Geller dabbed the blood away from the srotum with a wad of cotton. Her
thighs were wet, as she found a great pleasure in the cut. She slid a gloved
finger into the wound, and fished out a testical. Sinuous veins clung all
around it, and she cut them away. Then she cut the simple cord connecting the
ball to Kyle. She was half way there.
Kyle gasped as she dropped the testicle into the stainless steel bowl." They
come out that easy?" He asked shocked at the doctor's speed.
" Almost over." she said, patting his knee.
Again she fished out a testicle and cut away the sinuous veins that fed it.
before she made the final cut, she looked into Kyle's eyes. She wanted him to
know the truth." This last cut will make it so you will never become a man."
Kyle drifted back to reality, still shocked from the first cut." What do you
mean."
" You will never have children, never experience sex, your voice won't deepen,
and your shoulders wont broaden. Hair will not grow on your chest. You will be
a eunuch. You will not be male."
" But I want to be a male." he said desperately. but it was already too late.
with great satisfaction, Doctor gelder cut off the remaining testicle, and the
work was done. It fell into
the steel bowl with a happy plop. Kyle was a Gelding boy.
If he had lived inÝancient times, it would have marked him as property,
aÝslave, but in modern times, it was just a formality. A law so he couldn't
breed. It gave Doctor Geller a sexual joy to have removed his manhood. A
thrill like she had never known, to look at the empty space between his legs.
Kyle with dry eyes looked at the doctor." Can you put them back?"
" No." she said." It can't be done."
Kyle nodded, understanding her." Ok."
Doctor Geller finished by cutting off the remaining scrotum, it would only be
a risk for infection, and sewed up the skin so perfectly one would think he
had never had a scrotum at all.
When she finished, Kyle examined the stitches where his testicles had once
been. He flipped his penis a moment side to side.
" It's numb too."
" It will wear off." she explained." You won't feel any pain then. It will be
like you never had them."
Kyle looked far away." Cut it off too."
" What do you mean?"
" Cut the rest off. If I'm not male, then I don't want it"
Doctor Geller was shocked and amused at this childish demand. " Cut off your
penis?" she thought a second." I suppose it's not much good now, but I wont do
it. You'll need it to pee."
" Then I'll sit like a girl." he demanded." Cut it off!"
Doctor Geller could, she assumed, claim the penis was bleeding too much to be
stopped and had to be removed. The fact was she liked the idea of a penis with
bare skin beneath it rather than a scrotum. It had a sort of poetic irony to
it.
She looked at him on the table, half sitting up. The bare space below his
almost too small penis made him look like a sculpture somebody forgot to
finish. Without the penis, he would
look like a cherub, totally sexless. If she was to cut it off, she would have
to hurry, the anesthetic would be wearing off soon.
" No!" she decided.' You are a Eunuch, that is enough."
" But I don't want it."
" Kyle" she said. How did it feel when I was touching you down there, before I
cut you?"
" Good, I guess. Kinda scary."
" The good feeling is why you should keep the penis. You can still do that
without being a man."
Kyle considered that." Will you do it for me again?"
She assumed there was no danger to the stitches." Yes Kyle, when the drugs
wear off."
" They're wearing off now."
" Then I'll begin."
Knowing the drugs had only slightly wore off, she concentrated on stroking his
chest and abdomen. When he started to wiggle, and complained the stitches were
itchy, she moved back to the penis. She masturbated him in that manner for a
few moments until the full effect was achieved. His back arched again and he
seemed to barely notice the lack of his testicles.
Soon though, just touching was not enough, and she leaned down, and took him
in her mouth. She sucked intently, her chin brushing the closed wound. Kyles
eyes rolled back, from the new ecstacy. His penis quivered in her mouth. as
small as it was. It was actually quite puny, even as far as seven year olds
go, but to Doctor Geller it was the right size, and she pleasured him for some
minutes rolling the tiny member against her tounge until he shuddered with the
potency of false orgasm. She knew then what she had to do... to have.
He looked at her with wonder filling him." That was good." he said.
Doctor Geller smiled as she brought out the hypo spray again. She pressed it
down into the base of the penis.
" Hey." Kyle demanded." It's numb again."
Geller retrieved the super snips from next to Kyle's belt.
Kyle didn't realize her intentions, until the snips came down on the penis,
and with a skilled flash removed it.
The smile had left Kyle's face now, and the child watched helplessly as the
doctor stitched up the new wound. She left a small hole, just enough to
urinate, barely visible. Only stitches remained to indicate that anything else
had ever been there. She taped a pad of gauze to the wounds, and helped the
freshly castrated child slip into a hospital gown.
Kyle despite the operation, could walk, and the doctor helped the gelding to a
hospital bed. There it would stay over night for observation, and could go
home the next day. As Kyle lay
in the bed it found it wasn't mad at the doctor. It was happy. It was no
longer male, not female, and not quite bound to any sexual identity. It was
different. It was Unique.
The eunuch ran a hand between its legs, it was already healing. Kyle couldn't
feel any pain, and it was like it had never had anything there at all.
Often afterward Kyle would stare into the mirror, trace it's fingers around
the invisible scars and wonder if it was all a dream.
The Eunuch'sÝfather wasÝpleased, and enjoyedÝhis neutral child, teaching
itÝhis love making, andÝhis sexuality. Involving Kyle for the fist time in his
experimentations. Now all the more exciting with the addition of a small pair
of hands and a tight passive bottom.
Doctor Geller was happy with herself for a long time after, even volunteering
to perform more castrations, for only a very small fee, and she did them with
happy relish, adding cherubs to the world.
Always though, the little jar in her closet brought the most joy. A
reminiscent of the best time she had taken a boy's manhood. There, floating in
the formaldehyde were a pair of tiny testicles, and an undersized penis.
* * * |
Die neuen Nachbarinnen | STRAIGHT, NULLIFICATION, German | Zwei schöne Frauen ziehen neu in eine Wohnung ein. Die folgenden Geschichte zeigt wie alles gut wird. | Seit gut zwei Jahren wohnte ich in einem Hochhaus. Es war recht anonym und zu
den anderen Bewohnern bestand kaum Kontakt, maximal eine Begrüssung im
Vorbeigehen, wenn überhaupt. Mein Nachbar verliess vor einem Monat seine
Wohnung. Nach meiner Ferienabwesenheit zogen zwei junge, hübsche Frauen in
diese Wohnung. Eines Abend kam ich von der Arbeit, es war ein recht mühsamer
Tag bei der Arbeit gewesen. Sie räumten gerade ihre Möbel ein, beim Vorbei-
gehen grüsste ich sie und fragte ob ich ihnen beim Einräumen helfen könnnte,
in der Überzeu-gung, dass sie es sowieso ablehnen werden. Aber spontan nahmen
sie meine Hilfe an. Ich hatte mich getäuscht und durfte Ihnen beim Schleppen
helfen. - Aus dem geplanten gemütlichem Abend wurde nichts.
Die nächsten Tage ging allesamt wie vorher gleich weiter, zum darauffolgenden
Wochenende luden sie mich ein. Das Abendessen war recht lustig. Wir hatten
einiges an Smalltalk. Beim Kaffee machten wir eine Wette, der Verlierer durfte
den anderen das Geschirr und die Wäsche waschen. Natürlich verlor ich und so
durfte ich Ihnen am nächsten Tag ihre Wäsche waschen, was ich nicht mal ungern
machte. Für das nächste Wochenende fragten sie mich, sie hätten eine
Frauenrunde, ob ich dabei nicht bedienen möchte. Ich müsste einfach
Frauenkleider tragen, sofort sagte ich Ihnen zu, dachte es sei einfach
Abendessen.
Am Freitag Nachmittag meldete ich mich bei Ihnen, sie gaben mir die zu
tragende Kleider, welche ich sogleich anzog. Dann erklärten sie mir die Runde
werde das ganze Wochenende dauern und ich müsste dabei rund um die Uhr
verfügbar sein. Des weiteren müsste ich jede ihrer Weisungen befolgen, dürfte
nur sprechen, wenn es mir erlaubt sei. Darauf begann ich mit den
Vorbereitungen.
Gegen Acht Uhr kamen die eingeladen Damen. Jeder küsste ich zur Begrüssung die
Füsse. Anschliessend servierte ich Ihnen den Aperitif. Die Damen liessen es
sich gutgehen, wobei ich mich darüber sehr freute. Ich hatte sehr viel Arbeit,
aber es war eine sinnvolle. Die Runde war ein voller Erfolg und dauerte bis
Sonntag spät abends. Anschliessend räumte ich auf. Am nächsten Tag putzte ich
den beiden die Wohnung und am darauffolgenden Tag, wusch ich ihnen wieder ihre
Wäsche, wobei ich es automatisch in Frauenkleidern machte. Im Haus wurde ich
ein wenig schief angeschauen, aber ich erklärte, es sei wegen einer Wette.
Inzwischen war das Büro in welchem ich arbeitete, pleite gegangen und ich
hatte keine Arbeit mehr. So war es für mich kein Problem fortan den beiden
regelmässig ihren Haushalt zu führen, denn ich hatte genügend Zeit und sie
davon zu entlasten. Es gab mir ein wenig Halt und eine sinnvolle Tätigkeit.
Eines Abends zitierten sie mich zu ihnen und erklärten mir, dass es sehr nett
sei, wie ich sie bediene, aber sie sähen ein grosses Problem, denn ich sei ein
mann, trotz der Kleider, welche ich inzwischen dauernd trug. Darauf fragten
ich sie nach einer Möglichkeit, dass ich sie weiterhin bedienen dürfte. Sie
sähen eine, aber dass könnten sie nicht von mir verlangen. Ich fragte ganz
naiv etwa, kastrieren. Sie lächelten, ich wusste dies war es. Ich war von
ihrer Idee begeistert und stimmte sofort zu. Die beiden Frauen waren ebenfalls
zufrieden.
Darauf wurde eine Flasche Sekt geöffnet und die Details besprochen, es sollte
eine einfache Zeremonie sein, dabei werde ich entmannt und zugleich ihr
Sklave. Das ganze soll gar nicht lange rausgezögert werden, sondern möglichst
bald geschehen.
Am nächsten Freitag Abend fand das grosse Fest statt. Ich bat die beiden darum
ihr Sklave zu werden, sie akzeptierten lächelnd meine Bitte. Dann unterschrieb
ich den Versklavungsantrag, sofort darauf begann die Zeremonie, zuerst wurde
ich entkleidet, geschoren, ausgepeitscht, dann entfernten sie die
überflüssigen genitalien. Anschliessend feierten sie die ganze Nacht, am
Morgen brachte ich ihnen das Morgenessen an ihr Bett.
In den nächsten Tagen wurde meine Wohnung aufgelöst, die nicht mehr gebraucht
wurde. Fortan bediente ich die beiden Frauen, welche so mehr Zeit für sich
hatten. Sie waren sehr glücklich.
Freue mich auf eure Kommentare
* * * |
My New Master | GAY, NULLIFICATION | This is a work of fiction. A man finally finds his calling in life. | ` After many years of having my genitals tortured and put through many cock
and ball endurance sessions, I was led into the world of piercing, both
permanent and play. I finally met a partner who had been trained in piercing
and tattooing. He was a few years older than my 35 years, but actually looked
younger. We met in a S/M bar and we both stayed for the after hours orgy. I
was one of the guys how volunteered to bottom for some of the unattached tops.
I loved being placed in a sling, genitals exposed and ass waiting to be used.
That night was no exception, I was treated to the cat of nine tails, and some
mild to medium cock and ball torture and finally a fist up my ass. When I was
taken out of the sling and cleaned up enough to get my clothes on, Roger came
up and introduced himself. He asked me if I was too tired to go back to his
place for some additional fun. I looked down at my dick and seeing it start to
rise just by his suggestion for more fun, told him that my dick appears to be
speaking for the rest of my body, so I guessed I'd be pleased to accompany him
home. `
We left the bar in his car and he said we'd drop by the next morning to pick
up mine. I looked him over and was impressed with what I saw. About 6 foot,
smooth chest, a couple of tattoo's on his chest and a flat stomach. Once we
arrived home, he stepped out of his clothes, turned to me letting me have a
good look at the rest of him. What greeted me was a hairless crotch, with a
fat cut cock and big mushroom head sporting a big 0 gauge PA ring sticking out
the piss hole matched up with a nice pair of nuts with two rings on either
side of the sac. He unscrewed the ball in the PA and slipped it out of the
piss hole and asked me if I'd like a sample. I dropped to my knees and crammed
his fat cock down my throat. I sucked, nibbled on the mushroom head and chewed
on the head and shaft until he began to moan and then all of a sudden he was
spurting a thick load of cream in my mouth. He went crazy as I began licking
his cock clean, he pulled away saying his cock was too sensitive. I slipped
off my clothes and we headed into his bedroom where he pulled a black leather
sheet over his bed and told me to lie down and he'd try and return the favor.
He tied me spread eagle on the bed letting my legs hang over. He looped some
rope around my legs just at the knees and tied them to the bedpost and then
tied my feet to the bed rail. It was a little uncomfortable, but he assured me
I'd forget all about that once he started on my balls. He went out of the room
and returned shortly with a big tray, which he set down on the floor in front
of him. I felt rather than saw heat rising up close to my cock and balls and
then all of a sudden it felt like they were being scalded. There was no way I
could get away; all I could do was scream out for him to take my genitals out
of the water. He laughed and said it wasn't that hot, and then poured rubbing
alcohol down over my genitals which seemed to make my genitals feel like they
were being boiled even more. My cock started to rise, which told me; at least
some part of my body was enjoying the treatment. He must have left my balls in
the water for at least 20 minutes, before he took the bowl away. He started
gently slapping and punching my balls and then began punching them harder and
harder. Up until that time I didn't realize I could come through so much
pain/pleasure without touching my cock. All of a sudden my cock exploded
shooting several thick ribbons of cum up over my abdomen and stomach. He asked
me if I'd ever experimented with play piercing and I said no, and then asked
if I was interested. Well, my cock began to rise again, so I said why not.
Very quickly he put on a pair of rubber gloves and poured rubbing alcohol over
my cock and balls. He then pulled my foreskin up over the head and poured more
alcohol inside filling the skin up and then slipped a metal sound down my
urethra forcing the alcohol to drain deep down inside. He then picked up
several needles and pierced my foreskin and ran a series of needles down the
front of my sac. He asked if I was willing to go another step and have needles
stuck through my nuts. I swallowed and nodded my head, too scared to speak.
The experience was one, which I couldn't describe, but the end result was I
shot another huge load while he was pushing the needles through each nut.
Gradually he pulled the needles out and then cleaned my genitals and untied
me. I looked at my genitals and even though there were several spots that were
turning black and blue, they appeared none the worst for wear.
Meeting Roger was a turning point for me and I began his willing plaything. He
pierced my tits, foreskin, and sac. Over time we went from 10 gauge to 0 gauge
rings and then he gave me a tattooed man over my stomach and crotch giving the
appearance my cock and balls were his. He also filled my ball sac with saline
and gradually over a couple of years my sac stretched out even more and by
hanging weight off the sac, I gradually stretched the cords so my nuts would
hang down about 10 inches.
I though Roger and I would be together forever, but it wasn't to be. He found
someone else somewhat younger and moved to another city to be with his new
lover. The following month I went though the usual emotions one would expect.
Then one day, I realized I was being stupid and decided to get on with my
life. Just what I was going to do, wasn't clear, but my cock returned to it
normal self and told me it needed attention. By now I'd brought a computer and
discovered the Internet. I discovered chat rooms and then ventured into the
specialty s/m chat rooms. I enjoyed chatting with some of the people there and
was amazed with some of the fantasies that ran through their heads. Mind being
no exception. One guy opened a door in my mind late one night, which kept me
hard for days. He described how he wanted to be the center of attention in an
S/M session where the top would have him strapped down and begin with a cock
and ball torture session ending the session by being castrated. I don't know
if he was getting off on the chat, but I know I certainly did.
Then I started searching the web about castration and eunuchs and was amazed
at the amount of material I found. So for several years I met a number of tops
and we had some great sessions and I'd tell them about my castration fantasy.
A few would act out a scene, but they were never serious about it, which made
me more and more determined to find someone who would actually go through with
it. I even made contact with a cutter and flew out to meet him, only he didn't
show.
So I decided to try something different and took out ads in several different
S/M magazines. The ad read as follows:
45-yr. old masochistic bottom 6' 1" 190lbs interested in meeting a TOP who
wants an eunuch for a slave. Serious only need apply.
I placed a picture below the ad along with my email address and phone number.
It was several months before I received any reply. At first most of them were
just curious to know if I was really serious, but none said they really wanted
an eunuch.
Then one day I got a phone call, the guy said his name was Mark, 49, not bad
looking and was really looking for a slave who would be willing to give up not
only their balls but their cock as well. He said he liked what he saw of my
picture, and I'd make a prime candidate for his needs. Would I be interested
in meeting to discuss our mutual interest. At first I was stunned, because he
seemed really serious, but I wasn't so sure about the part of having my cock
removed. Of course, my cock rose up and told me to go for it along with my
balls drawing up inside my sac. So I agreed to meet.
We made plans to meet the following weekend, I brought a ticket to Texas and
he said he'd be waiting for me at the baggage claim area. He'd be wearing a
purple western cowboy shirt, jeans, and a black cowboy hat. Sure enough there
was this tall cowboy with the purple shirt. I walked up to him and introduced
myself and we shook hands. He was lean, roughly handsome, and very masculine
looking. He said he lived on a small ranch, which he specialized in raising
horses. He said he also was a free lance writer and though he wasn't rich, he
made a comfortable living. What he was interested in was a partner/slave to
service his sexual needs, without expecting to have them returned in kind.
He'd tried a number of relationships, not of which had turned out. Early on,
he'd tried it with women and found he wasn't that turned on sexually and
couldn't put up with them wanting to haul him off to the alter. He'd tried a
number of gay relationships and although he was sexually turned on by being
serviced and fucking ass, the idea of sucking another guys dick really didn't
turn him on, so the relationships failed for lack of commitment on his part.
We stopped at a local dinner and ate, then continued on to his ranch. I was a
little concerned over the fact he was taking me out to god knows where and
knowing what he was interested in made me a little nervous. It was a long
drive and when we finally arrived it was close to 10PM. I followed him inside
and he showed me around and said he needed to shower before turning in. I said
that sounded great, cause it had been a long day. When he came out of the
shower he didn't bother to cover himself, he just stood in front of me and
asked if I liked what I saw. He too sported a thick uncut cock and fat balls
and told me if I was interested I could suck him off. I asked him if it was ok
to take my clothes off and he said sure, lets see what you've got. He reached
and squeezed my nuts and pulled on my foreskin stretching it out over the PA.
Nice package you've got there, it's similar to your picture that's for sure.
You think you'd really be willing to give it up to stay here with me. I told
him I wasn't sure, but there was a part of me that must have been serious,
since I was standing naked in front of him. He stroked my cock and squeezed my
balls again and said he could guess which part of me was serious, then
laughed. I slid down to my knees and began sucking and licking his cock and
balls and before long I had him moaning and groaning saying he was about to
explode. When his cock finally erupted, I thought his balls must have been
saving up for weeks, because he kept cumming and cumming. Finally, I felt his
cock began to soften and I released it and got up and headed for the shower. I
grabbed my cock and in two pulls I shot all over the shower wall.
When I returned, he had crawled into bed and told me to climb in. Once I was
in bed, he pulled me to him spoon fashion and in no time we had fallen asleep.
The next morning came early and he showed me around the ranch and I helped him
with the daily choirs. The weekend slipped by and I felt really comfortable
with Mark and certainly enjoyed the sex. Finally I couldn't wait any longer
and asked him where did we go from here. He asked me if I liked it here and if
I liked him. I said yes, definitely, and did he truly plan on nullifying me.
He said absolutely. He said he had a real good friend, who knew a guy, who
knew a guy who had experience in cutting men. All he had to do was place a
call and the guy would come out and remove my manhood from me. He said you
know your genitals would look real pretty setting on the coffee table here in
the living room. That way, I'd never be too far away from them. So what do you
say, shall I make the call?
I swallowed several times and finally said I'd agree, on three conditions. He
said he wasn't so sure about me setting conditions, but he'd listen to them
first.
1) I wanted to have the removal video taped.
2) I wanted him so suck my cock making it hard, just before it was to be tied
off
3) I wanted him to impale my balls on large fishing hooks, as well as one
through my cock head, just before the scalpel removed my genitals.
Well ok, it's a deal. He walked over to the phone and placed the call, and
said the guy would come right over.
He called his vet friend and asked him to bring a video camera over along with
the necessary lighting. Next we went out to the barn and went to the tack
room. He pulled out a box under one of the benches and after opening it pulled
out a hand full of fishing needle packets. I looked through them and selected
three, which I felt would meet my requirements for what I had in mind and
handed them back to him.
I went into the house and shaved my crotch and tried to mentally prepare
myself for what I was experience.
The vet arrived first and after meeting me, shook his head and said holy shit
your really gotta go through with this, your gotta let him cut your stuff off.
WOW man, that is soo hot. One thing I'll tell you, Mark is really a great guy,
and I'm sure you won't regret this, that's a sacrifice, and what a trophy,
Your really hung.
I could tell he had an erection which was busting at the seams to get out,
cause he had a big wet spot appearing. Our conversation was interrupted with
Mark walking in with the cutter. He walked over to me and said your must be
Sam, hi, I'm called the MAN-CUTTER, nice package by the way. So we went into
the kitchen and they laid me out on the table and strapped me down. Mark
explained my conditions and MAN-CUTTER said it wasn't an unusual request, but
did I want to be numbed or did I want to experience the pain. He cautioned me
that there would be a great deal of pain, believe me, a great deal.
I opted for the pain. The whole time my cock had been erect, and once
everything had been setup, Mark walked over and took the rings out of my cock
and sac, bent over and started sucking on my cock, and then stood up and let
MAN-CUTTER tie up my genitals. He told me that he was going to insert a
cathedra into my urethra so I'd be able to piss while I'd healed up. He cut
the end off and pushed the tube down past where my PA had been and then tied
my genitals off in two places. He stepped back and Mark stepped up and grabbed
my left nut and pulled it down in the sac, he looked up and asked me once more
if I was sure about this and when I said yes, he began to push the fish hook
into the front of my nut, I cried out, the pain was so great. I could feel
every tearing step as the hook torn through my nut and then I felt it finally
coming out the back. I was breathing heavy as well as Mark, he gave me a few
minutes to adjust and calm down some, before he picked up the next fishhook.
He had a little more trouble with the second one, but finally he pushed it
through. I think I passed out before he'd finished. They put smelling salt
under my nose and I came around again. I knew then that there was no turning
back. I told Mark to finish the job and pull the foreskin up over the head and
then insert the fishhook into the cock head. As soon as I felt the hook
tearing into the cock head, my orgasm began. It hurt deep within me, cause the
cum couldn't get out. Everything was tied up. Mark stepped back and told MAN-
CUTTER they were all his now.
I couldn't get over how much more pain I was experiencing as the scalpel made
it's way around and through my cock flesh and back up slicing through the
sperm cords. There was a slight snap and then Mark was holding my once mighty
cock and balls up in front of my eyes by the fishhook. A little blood dripped
down on my chest and then I closed my eyes and felt him place my cock and
balls down on my chest.
I don't know how much longer it took for MAN-CUTTER to finish sewing me back
up, but finally he stepped back and said he was finished. As they walked out
of the room I heard Mark telling his friend, he'd had the most explosive
orgasm in his life while he was pushing those fish hooks into my cock and
balls, to which his friend replied, he too had shot all in his pants at the
sight of my genitals being cut. What an experience that had been.
I don't remember much for the next several days, I was keep on pain killers
and watched over for the next week, before I was allowed up to walk on my own.
Finally I was able to walk on my own and the first thing I saw was my genitals
hanging by those three fish hooks upside down in the container on the coffee
table.
Later on that night, Mark slipped the video into the machine and I watched the
whole process. I saw him stroking his cock beside me the whole time and just
as my cock and balls were being lowered into the container, I leaned over and
swallowed his cock just as he was starting to blow his load. Once I'd finished
sucking him off, I leaned back and smiled saying my cock always knew what it
wanted, so how I was going to have to rely on his to give me direction. He
smiled happily and said no problem, cause his dick always knew what it wanted
as well.
* * * |
Thecia's Road Trip | STRAIGHT | This while on a road trip accidently finds an unwilling client.Fiction and not for minors. | Thecia’s Road Trip
My name is Thecia and I’m a 31 year old “Cutter.” I’ve been deballing men for
a little over seven years and I’ve cut a little over 100 sets.
I had a job in Enid, Okalahoma. I normally only cut in Mexico but I was
offered three times my regular rate to do it in the man’s home. He was a very
wealthy gay man with five or six “house boys.”
All but one of the “boys” was sent away and it was a simple procedure. I
surgically cut him, put his nuts in a jar, pocketed the nine grand and I was
on my way.
While driving back to Texas on a secondary road, a motorcycle passed me at
what must have been more than 100 MPH. I just shook my head and continued on
my way. Five or six miles later I reached for my water bottle and didn’t find
it. It had been my kit bag and that was stored in the trunk. After stopping
the car and retrieving the water I noticed a glint of reflected sunlight about
30 feet into the woods. The glint led me to a beautiful Harley that had
wrapped it’s self around a tree, a few feet from it was the rider. He was face
down and spread eagled on the ground.
When I saw the club colors on his jacket, my mind went back to my collage
days.
My roommate Tracy had been on a date and she and her boyfriend ran afoul of a
few members of the same motorcycle gang as my prone rider. Her date had been
beaten senseless and she was beaten and gang raped. He was lucky to be alive
and she never fully recovered. When they found her she was on the hood of
their car, she was beaten and cum was running from her overfucked vagina in a
stream. It ran down the car hood and trickled over each chrome piece in the
grill until if finally puddled on the asphalt.
On this man’s back were the same colors. I felt my face redden as the rage
rose in me. I checked his vital signs and he seemed to be ok.
My kit only had some bandages and a little betadine solution. My disposable
scalpels had been tossed at my last job. However, my unnamed gang member had a
nice sheath knife on his belt. Not as sharp as a scalpel, but it would do.
Starting at his pants cuff the knife easily sliced through the heavy denim and
up the back to the belt line. I removed his jeans and underwear from his boots
to his belt leaving two very nice big balls exposed. His shoe lace made a
tourniquet and the neck of his ballsack was tied tightly and securely.
Normally I’m very careful about infections, today I didn’t give a damn.
I brought the big blade to bear and began to slice his baby makers off, it was
more of a sawing motion than a slice, but it worked. His big balls came off in
my hand. I bandaged the wound and returned to my car. For the second time in a
month I had more balls then I had jar room for. Somehow I managed to squeeze
the bikers set in with the older gay mans balls. When I got home I would re-
label them, “older gay guy” and “Biker asshole.” My final act at the scene was
to cut the stitches on his “colors” and remove them. This would throw the
suspicion onto a rival gang. In fact it caused a gang war that cost the lives
of thirty or so gang members. I didn’t shed a tear.
About ten miles further down the road sat a gas station/conveniences store. I
stopped and bought a Coke, as I paid for it, I memorized the number on the pay
phone near the clerk.
Back in my car, I called the pay phone and in my deepest voice told the clerk
to call the state police and report a bad accident at mile marker 179. One at
a time I tossed the exam gloves out of the window into the weeds, I then
tossed the knife.
When I crossed the Texas border, the car, as if on its own, stopped at a place
called “Ferg’s Eats.” The pulled pork barbecue sandwich was wonderful as was
the Lone Star beer that I washed it down with. I get hungry when I nut a man.
Life is good.
Respectfully submitted,
Thecia
* * * |
Football Players Meet the Blade | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES | Two star Football players are going to lead there team to victory. Unless they can be stopped. | ` Football Player Meet the Blade `
By Justoneguy
Brandon Jones and Daniel Parker had always been the stars of the team, and
their college football team was no exception. Brandon was a senior, on his way
to a possible professional football carrier; Daniel was a junior and was
expected to be the shine even brighter with out of Brandon’s shadow next year.
The two had known each other all through high school, and when Brandon decided
to go to State on a football scholarship, Daniel knew that was in his future
too. Together, they were the building block of a football comeback for State
University. The coach had pulled a lot of strings to get them in his program,
and in the nearly 4 years since draft Brandon, had succeeded in building a
winning team around his young star. Daniel’s skills were the icing on the
cake. Together, they guaranteed that State U would compete in a Bowl game for
the first time in 20 years.
All this did not settle well with Central University, which thanks to the
State U’s comeback were about to miss their first Bowl game in 20 years. It
wasn’t just a point of pride. The Bowl game brought hundreds of thousands of
dollars to the university—not to mention the alumni support that goes hand in
hand with success on the grass. Central U had a lot riding on its Bowl game.
That was when Central U’s coach had an idea. Hailing from an old Italian
family, the coach still had plenty of friends in the old neighborhood. Without
telling anyone on his team or at the university, he approached some old
friends and offered his Bowl bonus plus a kickback on university contracts for
10 years—if they made sure that Brandon Jones and Daniel Parker were unable to
play in the games leading up to the Bowl pick. He was careful to emphasize
that the two were not to be killed. The last thing he need was a murder
investigation. He just wanted an assurance that the two young men would not
play football again. He left the meeting satisfied that he would get his wish.
What he didn’t know was that his old friends decided to turn the job over to
one of their most feared enforcers—The Blade.
Brandon and Daniel sat in the back of the woman’s pick-up truck. They were
both wearing their football gear from practice. The woman had asked them to
keep their white uniforms on. But they had both substituted their boxer briefs
for their cups and jocks, which were now stuffed into their book bags. That
turned out to be a really good decision, thought Daniel as he bounced around
in the back of the old pick up. His cup was uncomfortable enough without be
jostled around by the dirt rode. Brandon smiled at his friend as the road
along. The two guys were studs, but it wasn’t every day that a hot
30-something Italian chick asked for their “help” on her farm. Sure, college
girls were nice, but the skills of a mature woman who still had her looks were
unbeatable.
“I’m telling you Danny, these older ladies can work their pussies so much,
it’s like their milking the jizz right out of you,” Brandon said with a smile.
“You’d better be careful. She might hear you,” Daniel said over the wind
blowing in his face.
Brandon shrugged his shoulders under his shoulder pads. “You’ll know soon
enough my friend.” Brandon knew that his old high school buddy had only been
with 2 girls in his life—one in high school and one in college. Of course,
both had been long term relationships with Danny getting constant sex. But
knowing that his cock had tasted more pussy than his buddy’s kinda gave
Brandon a rush. He had no problem talking up the fact that he had pleasured
over a dozen women in his 21 years. “You worried about Sussy?” Brandon asked.
“Yeah,” Daniel said, a glum look on his face for a moment as he thought of his
girlfriend back a school—a girlfriend he was about to cheat on for his first
taste of experienced pussy.
“Don’t worry about it man. Besides, if you still feel bad when we’re there,
you can just opt for a blow job.”
The car pulled off the main dirt road and onto a small path lined by trees.
Daniel guessed that they were about 30 miles away from town, somewhere out in
the boonies. The old truck bounced along the path; dense rows of trees lined
the way. Sunlight streamed down on the college boys, alternating with the
shadow of the fall leaves. When the truck came to a small farmhouse and barn,
it pulled to a halt. The boys hopped out of the back as the woman closed the
truck door with a thud. She had long brown hair, which streamed down either
side of her face. Her nose was prominent over soft lips painted red. She was
wearing a sundress, which seemed a little out of place in the cool fall
breeze. But it did show off her thin arms and long legs for the boys to see.
She smiled at them as they stood in front of her. Each of the lads smiled and
bounced with nervous energy, with made them look even younger to her eyes.
They could have been brothers, she noted. They looked so similar in
appearance. Both of the boys had brown hair cut short and spiked up over their
forehead. Their hair was tangled and filled with a little dirt from practice.
The boys hadn’t had a chance to shower with the team when she approached them.
Their heads looked small sticking out above their shoulder pads. She noted
that football uniforms always turned her on by the way they exaggerate a man’s
shoulders—big heavy shoulders over thinly covered hips. It was the very
picture of masculinity to her mind—and one of the main reasons she had taken
on this job. “Ok boys, take your shirts off.”
Both young men started at it at once. Perhaps their minds were instinctively
afraid that at any moment this available female might change her mind about
their encounter. The two pulled off their football jerseys and began to unlace
their shoulder pads. Brandon got his off first. The woman admired him, her
hand casually traveling to the hem of her dress and up her own thigh. The
21-year-old football stud was ripped: a firm washboard stomach under a thick
hairless chest. His shoulders broad and strong even after being compared with
the shoulder pads. His arms were thickly veined, as she found was often when a
guy worked out.
Daniel by this time was shirtless as well. He had struggled with a knotted
lace on his shoulder pads, but was now standing beside his friend showing her
what years of football and weigh training can produce on a human male body. He
was less developed than his older friend, especially in his chest. But his
washboard stomach was even more defined than Brandon’s, and there was no way
to guess which would win at arm wrestling. As Daniel pulled his should pads
over his head, the woman began to finger her pussy. The boys could not quite
see her snatch, but they could definitely see what her fingers were doing.
Brandon felt a rush of heat through his body and immediately unlaced his
football pants and pulled them to his knees. The woman moaned as she saw his
crisp white boxer briefs, a propionate bulge tucked down toward the ground
between his muscled, cotton-covered thighs. She knew she wanted him first.
She pulled her dripping fingers from her pussy and motion to the boys. “Come
this way. Let’s go over toward the barn in case someone happens to come by.”
Not much chance of that, thought Daniel as he looked around the dense trees.
“You don’t want to go to the house?”
The woman had already started moving toward the barn. She flipped her hair and
said over her shoulder, “I want to be outside.”
Daniel followed her at once; Brandon was a few paces behind as he pulled his
pants over his football cleats. When she got to the barn, the woman turned and
kissed Daniel passionately on the lips. He was surprised and sucked a deep
breath of her perfume. The woman put one hand on the side of his head, feeling
the prickles of his freshly shaved face and cropped brown hair. Her other hand
came up between his thighs and cupped his young package. The woman felt his
hardness there, straining against his tight football pants. He moaned out a
breath as she continued to fondle his hard pole. She could tell by the feel of
him that what Daniel had between his legs was less impressive than what his
friend had. But he was a football player and had a perfectly toned body, so
the woman figured that he was still quite a catch. By this time, Brandon
walked up, and she stepped away.
“I want you first,” she said to Brandon, who gave a cocky smile to his
friend—whose erection was not prominently sticking out to the right in his
pants.
“Looks like you’ll have to wait your turn Danny-boy,” he said.
“Wait in the barn,” she said to Daniel. “I want to do one of you out here
surrounded by nature.” Daniel stepped into the barn feeling a little
disappointed, but knowing that his time would come. He didn’t feel too bad
that she had wanted Brandon first; he had half expected it. But when she had
kissed and felt him, he had hope that he would be first and that he would be
the one telling Brandon to wait in the barn.
The barn was dark and seemed to be pretty much empty. The wood walls were
uneven and rough. Several streams of sunlight beamed through the damaged wood
walls onto the dirt floor. Daniel couldn’t resist walking up to the wall and
looking through one of the damaged slats. He had a clear view of his friend
and the woman. He didn’t have to squint or struggle to see though the hole,
but was confident that they couldn’t see him inside because of the bright
sunlight outside. Brandon was standing in front of the woman wearing only his
white boxer briefs and his socks and cleats. He seemed to tower over her as
they kissed, his massive shoulders hunching over so his lips could lock onto
hers. He felt her ass through the thin fabric of her dress, and she felt his
through the white cotton. Then she pushed away from him and undid the ties at
the shoulders of her dress. It fell to the floor. She wore no bra or panties.
She stood before him an Italian goddess, soft olive breasts with pink pointed
nipples. Brandon lowered his boxer briefs and pulled them over his cleated
feet. Daniel had seen his best friend nude in the locker room many times, but
it somehow felt different now that they were both involved or soon to be
involved sexually with this woman. Whereas before Brandon’s dick had just been
a piece of meat that always flopped around between his legs, Daniel now saw it
as competition for the woman’s pussy. It didn’t help his feelings when she had
chosen him first. Looking at his best friend’s floppy now made him a little
envious of his prowess.
Brandon’s member hung down like a thick sausage from a thick tangle of dark
brown sex hair. To Daniel, the circumcised head of his dick looked huge, like
the massive flared mushroom pulled and stretched the thick white shaft toward
the ground. He felt a twinge of jealousy and hoped that the woman would still
be satisfied with his dick after taking Brandon’s. Behind his hanging meat was
a thick sac of balls with showed prominently from either side of his soft
tool. The woman stepped forward and hefted the thick piece with her hand.
Brandon leaned forward and kissed her as his fingers found her pussy lips.
Daniel watched as the woman moaned under the influence of his friend’s skilled
fingers. It only took a few minutes for the woman to work Brandon’s staff up
to full mast. The woman pulled away from him for a moment and spread a thick
blanket from beside the barn onto the ground. Daniel evaluated his competition
from Brandon. He judged his buddy’s tool to be around 7” long and thick—maybe
6” around. Damn. Brandon really had been born lucky. Now he really wished he
had been picked first. He certainly didn’t relish the idea of sticking his rod
into a pussy that had been stretched out by Brandon’s member. Maybe he should
go for that blowjob after all.
The woman kissed Brandon again and allowed him to lower her down onto the
blanket. Daniel was in a perfect position to see her hairy pussy, its juices
glistening in the sunlight. Brandon bent down and started to kiss her pussy,
but she pulled on his shoulders and whimpered for him to mount her. Brandon
pushed her thighs apart and positioned himself over her body. Daniel could see
right between their legs as he entered her for the first time. They both
moaned as his thick male helmet popped past her outer pussy lips. Daniel
watched as his buddy thrust forward until his loose fat bag of balls rested
against the bottom of her pussy. Daniel was so into, he slipped his hand into
he football pants. Just when he got his hand in a position to stroke himself,
someone grabbed his free arm.
“What th…” a hand slammed over his mouth and he felt a hard blow to the back
of his head. He would have collapsed onto the dirt, but he was now being held
up. His vision was blurry, and everything was black in the dark barn after
having looked out into the sun for so long. Daniel felt another pressure on
his legs. He couldn’t move. His muffled screams were lost into the hand over
his mouth. I firm pressure on the back of his neck forced his face to look
forward, out of the whole in the wall. He struggled but couldn’t move. There
were three men holding him fast.
Out the hole, he saw Brandon hump and thrust over the woman with abandon. He
gave no sign of hearing anything from within the barn. His tight butt, toned
by thousands of squats over the years, bounced and strained as his male
instincts drove his hips to thrust deeper into her moist hole. The skin of his
sac looked thick, like a bag stretched by his heavy male balls. Daniel watched
as his friend’s testicles bounced against the woman’s body. The looked like
hen’s eggs, the outline of each orb defined against the soft flesh of his
masculine flesh bag. The woman’s arms were around his neck as he pumped his
thick spear of flesh in and out of her. He was propping his body up with his
hands, but the woman tugged on his neck, bringing his face closer to her lips.
Brandon dropped to his elbows as his head dropped down beside hers. They
breathed and moaned heavily into each other’s ears. The sun streamed down on
them. Brandon’s back glistened with sweat as he greedily humped the small
female body under him. The woman ran her hands all over his back, feeling the
strong young muscles of his back strain with each thrust and then flex under
the intense pleasure of his cock head buried deep inside a pussy. She eyes
locked onto two shadows that appear on either side of them.
Brandon gave no notice. Her pussy was so tight, and she took all 7 inches of
his meat easily—not like his girlfriend back at State U. He could literally
feel her warm pussy walls stretch as the girth of his cock separated them. His
fat mushroom head acted like the tip of a spear, burrowing deep into her body.
“Oh Brandon,” she moaned under him. “Oh god, you’re so big. You’re the biggest
I’ve had.”
“Arrrg. Oh yeah baby,” He groaned from deep in his chest. God, he hoped Daniel
could hear this. His reputation in the locker room would be undeniable after
this got around.
“Oh god, you’re such a man,” she moaned loudly in his ear. “I can feel you’re
balls, oh god they’re so big. They’ve made you so big—such a man.”
Daniel could hear everything, and he could see Brandon’s fat nuts pulling
closer to his body in a tight but bulging ball of flesh. It was the universal
male sign that orgasm was near.
“You’re the best I’ve ever had,” she screamed. “Of god, you’re making me cum.
I’m cummming. Jesus you’re such a man. I love you’re cock. Oh Gooooddddddd.”
The woman arched her back and clung to the muscles of his back in an orgasmic
furry.
Daniel watched as Brandon thrust lightning fast for several strokes, screaming
out, “I’m gonna cum baby.” Brandon’s butt clinched tight and his balls
pulsated at his male body pumped masses of white baby-batter into the woman’s
body. Daniel watched as the muscles of Brandon’s back and legs relaxed as his
orgasm subsided. He lay on top of the woman, his back rising and falling with
each of his deep struggling breaths.
The woman held him close with her arms around his shoulders. “God, boy. You
were so good.” It was the signal. The two shadows pounced. All Brandon felt at
first was a great pressure on his legs, then his arms.
“What the fuck,” he said, but then his arms were pulled out from under him and
he fell back onto the sweaty body of his lover. There were four men holding
him now, one on each limb. And the woman locked her arms around his back,
under each of his arms, right across his shoulder blades, holding his muscled
chest against her breasts. “Guess I should introduce myself formally, I’m
called the Blade. And this is my crew. They are strong men. I like my men
strong—just like you.” Brandon’s head was right beside hers, and she talked
directly into his ear. But Daniel could hear every word. “Now, I’m called the
Blade for good reason. But when I saw your picture, I knew that I wanted
something special from you. You’ve already given me part of it. But for the
other part, I’m going to need my partner Bander’s assistance.”
A large man dressed in black came into Daniel’s view. Brandon couldn’t see a
thing. His head was pinned next to the Blade’s head. He was obviously Italian
and looked to be in his late forties. He was overweight, but had a powerful
look about him—as if he could crush a golf ball with his bare hand. Daniel
watched as the man leaned down beside Brandon, between his legs that were now
held apart. The angle was perfect for him to see everything. God, what was
happening!
Brandon couldn’t see a thing. He strained his powerful neck muscles to turn
and look behind him, but he was pinned firmly against the Blade’s sweaty body.
He felt something brush against the hairs of his inner thigh. It was almost a
tickle. Then he realized it was a hand-and something cold and metal. Bander
took the device and rested it against Brandon’s leg. He struggled, his massive
leg muscles straining and stretching against the men who held him down. Bander
reached out and worked his tight sweaty sac away from his body. It was the
first time a guy other than himself or a doctor had touched his manhood.
Brandon’s body convulsed in an effort to free himself. “Get your fucking hands
of my basket!!!” he screamed. “Danny, Danny. Get these guys off of me.”
Daniel’s muffled answer was lost behind the hand holding his mouth and jaw.
Brandon’s mighty cock began to wilt inside of the Blade’s pussy. She felt his
powerful rod deflate until it was a wet noodle sloshing around in her pussy
juice and the thick wad of sperm it had just squirted. She could feel
everything that was happening down between her and the boy’s legs. Bander had
been through this many times before, and he knew what she liked. He made sure
to rub the device against her own thighs before bringing it up and around the
young man’s now loosened sac. He pushed both plump orbs into the ring of the
device and pressed the magic button. The band snapped closed around the neck
of Brandon’s scrotum, where the flesh attached to his body.
“ARRRGGgggggg,” he screamed into the Blade’s ear. “Of fuck, OH God.” The Blade
felt every muscle in his body tense and them ripple and the incredible
pressure rolled through his strong body. Daniel watched as his best friends
large ball bag turned from fleshy tan to dark red in seconds.
The Blade hold the college boy’s chest against her body, feeling the powerful
muscles of his pectoral muscles flex against her soft breasts as he struggled.
His back broke out in a close sweat, and she released her grip to rub her
hands against his muscled back. She knew her crew would hold him steady. It
was time for her to enjoy herself. Brandon gasped and groaned into her ear.
She felt his entire body tense and relax as he struggled to escape the assault
on his manhood. She could feel his thick soft noodle of a cock inside her
pussy—the afterglow of his orgasm having been replaced with the nauseating
pressure on his testicles.
Bander pushed the football star’s banded balls against both of the Blade’s
thighs, letting her feel their texture against her sensitive skin. He then let
them flop back against the bottom of her pussy. “Oh yeah, baby,” she said,
squirming under him a little then as if in orgasmic ecstasy. “I can feel your
big balls stud. I can feel them against my skin. They’re so plump and fat and
leathery—and so cold, yes so cold. They’re getting colder.” She rubbed her
hands up and down his sweating back, feeling his powerful muscles fight
against the four men holding him on top of her. Brandon felt Bander lift his
testicles again. He felt a distant sensation as Bander tied a thin string
around his balls, below the tight rubber band that was second by second
robbing him of his manhood.
The sun beat down on his back and warmed her hands. She almost wished she
could touch his cooling sack with her hands, but that would ruin the moment.
Instead, she brought her hands up to his neck and ran them through his freshly
cut hair. He rubbed over his face, which was not clammy and covered in sweat.
His breathing came out in bellows deep from his stomach. She knew that the
intense feeling of pressure and pain from his crotch was overwhelming his
senses. “They’re dying you know. They’re dying between your legs—between my
legs. I can feel them against my pussy.” With that, she contracted her pussy
muscles and began to milk the thick soft noodle of his dick. It began to grow,
becoming half-erect despite the pain. She humped up against his body, grinding
her clit into the forest of dark black sex hair that covered his pubic bone.
She could feel the fat flared head of his half-hard cock inside of her. She
thought about how, only minutes before, this hot young stud was humping her
out of control, how that thick purple helmet of his manhood was hungering to
get an inch deeper inside of her, hungering to spurt this’ life-giving seed
into her sex. “Get ready stud,” she said.
Bander knew the code and the Blade’s golden-handled cutting knife against the
college football star’s manhood, right between the band and the string. ‘Oh
god, Oh my god,” Brandon said. He suddenly struggled again, frantically trying
to free his powerful limbs and fight his way out. But all the muscles he had
toned and built over the years were useless against four grown men holding him
down on top of a strong woman. His voice was panicked; his breathing erratic.
“Oh fuck Danny, they’re gonna do it. Oh god, no no, please god stop them.”
Danny watched as his friend struggled. It almost looked like he was fucking
her again, but he knew it wasn’t the case.
The Blade rapped her slender legs around Brandon’s powerful male body, resting
her heels on his tight strong ass. His hips bucked above her; she moaned in
pleasure. “Of god, Danny, help me, don’t let ‘em take them. Not my balls, oh
please god—Not my fucking BALLLS. Their gonna do it; I can feel it. NOOO.”
“They’re mine,” The Blade moaned.
Bander sliced. In one quick moment, he jerked his hand and the knife sliced
through the power plant of Brandon’s masculinity. “ARRRGGGHHHH, huhuhuhuh,
ooohhhhhh Ffuuckk nonnnooooo!!!!!” Brandon’s hips bucked; his body convulsed.
The Blade felt his drool slosh against her shoulder. His convolutions
involuntarily humped his hard pubic bone against her hot clit; she felt his
half-hard cock slosh around in her pussy—slosh around in this 21-year-old’s
last load of seed. She came.
Everything was quiet. Brandon didn’t make a sound, but his body continued to
convulse and hump on top of the Blade. Her breathing eased as his convolutions
stopped. She looked up at Bander then. “Get this gelded piece of shit off of
me.” The four men holding Brandon released their grip and pulled his
emasculated body off of their boss. The Blade watched as his soft cock popped
free from her pussy. He had entered her a man; he had left her pussy as a
eunuch.
The men holding Daniel suddenly jerked him away from hole in the wall and
practically carried him out of the barn and into the sun. He could see Brandon
on the ground, naked except for his socks and cleats. My god, he had been
castrated. Daniel still couldn’t believe what he had seen.
The Blade walked over to Bander. He placed the knife into her hand and
reloaded his banding tool. Daniel was staring at his best friend, who now
slowly began to stir on the ground. One of the men who had held him down no
knelt beside him, to make sure he didn’t remove the rubber band preventing him
from bleeding. They no long worried that he would escape of fight them. He
wasn’t a man now; he had no fight in him. Only throbbing empty pain.
The Blade walked up to Daniel, who stared silently at his friend. She placed
one hand on his chest and felt his heavily muscled body. “He won’t have his
muscles much long,” she said as she rubbed down Daniel’s chest. Daniel was
frozen. He wasn’t really afraid for himself, although he very well should have
been. He just stared at Brandon, the man that he had looked up to and
patterned himself after all his life. He looked at him rolling on the ground
now, his hands grasping at the dirt, dust and dirt clinging to his sweaty,
emasculated body. At one point, Brandon rolled over, and Daniel saw straight
between his legs. His fat floppy dick was still there, the spent red mushroom
soft and dangling at the end. But behind that swinging dick, the penis that
Daniel had envied only a few minutes before—nothing hung. The Blade took her
gold-handled knife and began to cut the laces of Daniel’s football pants. She
cut them slowly, one by one, from the bottom up, opening the way to his
manhood. When she reaches the last lace, the crotch of his football uniform
suddenly fills with warm urine. The 20-year-old football stud had pissed
himself. The Blade chuckled then, but Daniel didn’t seem to notice her. She
lowered his football pants and began to slice of his boxer briefs. Starting at
the bottom of the right leg, she sliced the cotton fabric and pulled is from
his slender hips and toned butt.
All Daniel could do was look at Brandon. One of his hands was now covering his
crotch, as if to cradle the hanging testicles that were once there, like he
would have if he had been racked during football practice. His other hand
clung to the heel of the man guarding him, who knelt silently watching him. It
seemed to Daniel that his best friend was like a 7-year-old boy who had fallen
and skinned his knee—not a 21-year-old college man. He would never need his
cup again; never need his jock to hold up and protect his family jewels during
a game. Hell, he wouldn’t even need boxer briefs now. He just lay there,
clutching his soft dick and empty crotch, holding on to the man’s ankle,
whimpering like a child. “Oh God Danny,” he whimpered, although he didn’t seem
to know that Daniel was anywhere near him. “Oh God Danny, they took them.
Danny, they’re gone.” The man guarding him put out his hand and placed it on
the gelded man’s shoulder, soothing him a little, as he would an injured
child. He knew that the Blade didn’t appreciate noise when she worked.
The Blade now stared at Daniel’s exposed manhood. His dick stuck out limply
from a thick bush of pubes. It didn’t hang nearly as much as Brandon’s did,
and his balls looked smaller too. The Blade began to fondle his testicles.
They were loose in their bag and warm to the touch. She found them damp and
used the cut-up boxer briefs to dry the remaining urine from his genitals. He
began to grow erect.
As the Blade fondled him, she began whispering to him, the first words she had
spoken to him since before he went into the barn. “You’re such a strong man
Danny. Much stronger than your friend Brandon. He isn’t really a man anymore.
He isn’t even a boy, not even a woman. He’s got nothing.”
Daniel began to breathe harder. He stared at Brandon, who was now sobbing into
the dirt as the pain subsided somewhat and his mind began to realize what had
been done to him—permanently done to him. Daniel knew that his best friend’s
muscles would dwindle away until his body was something between a boy’s and a
woman’s. He knew that his friend’s penis would never get erection again, that
he would feel no more desire for pussy, that he was no longer a man. By this
point he was rock hard. The Blade evaluated his basket. His dick was about 6”
long and 5” around. Totally average she thought, not like Brandon’s thick long
log. His purple cock head was more pointed than Brandon’s had been, more like
an arrowhead than a mushroom. Still, he was a fine catch for any girl, she
thought—with his toned lean body.
Daniel hardly felt the pleasure in his dick. He only half realized that he was
hard. His mind was totally focused on the horror that his friend had become.
God, he loved his own balls so much, needed them so much. Seeing Brandon now
made his mind realize how much he needed his own balls. He didn’t realize that
Bander had walked up beside him until he heard the click of the instrument. He
didn’t feel the rubber until it slammed against the tightening skin of his
scrotum. The nauseating pain hit him then, rising up from the absolute bottom
of his torso in two perfect lines, rising up from the two tubes that fed his
testicles. The two piercing lines of pain shot up into his ripped abs, up into
his chest and into his brain. If the three guards hadn’t held him up, he would
have collapsed onto the floor. As it was, he vomited onto the dirt.
The guards dragged him a few feet from the vomit and urine stained ground.
They dragged him closer where Brandon was writhing. The Blade knelt in front
of Daniel and kissed the spongy arrowhead of his dick. She licked all around
it as Daniel struggled for breath. She sucked him hard, her lips passing the
scar of his infant circumcision before returning to the arrow of his tool.
Sweat poured from his body and dripped from his hair armpits. The Blade looked
up at him and continued to talk. “You’re such a man Danny. So much more than
Brandon could ever been. You’re body is full of seed, fertile seed. You’re so
strong and fit, so young and full of physical needs.” She pumped his cock with
her hand. Daniel just stared at his gelded friend, his eyes glassed over with
both pain and pleasure. “Please, please don’t,” was all he whispered. “Please,
not my balls. Please.” The Blade sucked him once more, and Daniel gave a pre-
orgasmic call. The Blade sliced his sack in a single stroke.
“AAAAARRGGHHHHHHHHHAAHH huhuhuhhhuhuh.”
The Blade raised the bag of his masculinity to his face so he could look at
it. He stared at his full nuts, his final shoot of sperm still inside of them,
un-shot. His hard cock began to wilt—its last erection unfulfilled. At that
moment Brandon looked up at him and seemed to see him for the first time. “Oh
god, Danny, they cut ‘em off. They’re gone,” is all he said.
The two emasculated football players were left by the farmhouse. They lay
beside each other, not moving, nude except for their socks and football
cleats. They just breathed and passed in an out of consciousness. Their
football uniforms and pads were piled beside them. They were found just before
dark by a news helicopter was on its way back from covering a forest fire.
Police were sent to the scene thinking it was homosexual meeting. An ambulance
was called within a minute.
No physical evidence of the criminals was found. The old truck was found
abandoned on the side of the interstate 15 miles away. DNA evidence turned up
no matches. The only things that were taken from the boy’s belongings were
their cups—that is unless you count their nuts (or so the police officers
joked.) Both Brandon and Daniel receive medical attention, but there wasn’t
much the doctors could do. Their testicles were not found at the scene, and
they really couldn’t have been reattached if they had been. The boys were
treated and released. But they didn’t go back to State U. What had happened to
them had been all over the TV, and everyone on campus knew. Even though they
got a lot of sympathy, they could show their faces. Everyone they looked at
knew what they had lost, and it was almost more painful being around so many
people who remembered them the way they were.
For about three weeks, Daniel was still able to have erections. He sometimes
jerked at his tool a little, but was never able to orgasm. Over that time, the
erections became softer and softer until he could have one anymore. He still
had blue balls though. Almost every day after he had been castrated, he felt
that nauseating ache where his manhood had once hung. His prostate cramped up
and he would have to lie down for an hour for relief. He wondered if that was
his last load, still inside him, still hungering to shoot out. His body still
hungered for orgasms and for women. But he knew in his mind that he would
never have either again. He didn’t see Brandon again for years, but always
assumed that he went through similar feelings.
Central U. beat State pretty easily that year, and went to the Bowl game for
the 21st straight year. On the day of the big Bowl game, a package arrived for
Daniel. Inside he found a jar of fluid, and floating inside was his severed
manhood, his bag of balls. Framing his testicles has his athletic cup, still
white and grew as the last time he had worn it—the day he ceased to be a male.
He called Brandon’s number, which he still knew by heart but never used. “Did
you get something?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you going to tell the police?”
“No.”
“I don’t think I am either,” he said, and hung up. The cops wouldn’t be able
to do anything about it anyway. They would just take it away and nothing would
change. He put the jar under his bed and lay down.
If anyone wants to see the photo that inspired the characters of Brandon and
Daniel, I’ll email it to you.
Detailed comments and suggestions would be greatly appreciated.
Email me at jjdov26@hotmail.com
Yahoo IM me at jjdov26
Anyone who wants to right another story about The Blade and Bander, please
feel free.
* * * |
Castration Initiation - For a Wife to Join, Her Husband Must be Un-Joined | PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, They deserve it, and you deserve to do it. | A union of battered wives get their lives back by beer-battering their husbands\' balls... | Why do they do it?
Some say they stay because they actually want it. Some say they are just too
afraid to walk away.
Wives, girlfriends -- even sissies and gay subs -- get beaten quite often by
their so-called lovers. There is a new support group, now international, that
forces the weak and abused to make their needed Final Confrontation.
This Final Confrontation is a Castration Confrontation, a Castration
Initiation where the beaten turn the tables (the kitchen tables in this case)
right around, and the beaten become the eaters and the beaters become the
eaten.
For example:
George has been absolutely smothering his wife Kristen with affection for
years. With his smothering affection, however, comes Near-Suffocation,
Absolute Direction, Absolute Control, Absolute Abuse, when he goes out of
control.
Maybe a guy looked at her at a club and she accidentally made eye contact with
her admirer. Her polite yet almost instantaneous smile back at the stranger
quickly turned to a gasping fear of death as she sensed that George had
witnessed the nanosecond when the woman he owned had looked at another man
without his permission.
George did see it, but he did not immediately let on.
Later, when the baby was asleep, George and Kristen were chatting around the
kitchen table. Kristen had made George a warm sandwich in one of her many
efforts to keep him content and relaxed.
"Too much fucking mustard, you bitch!"
There was no mustard problem, but George needed something to get him started
in the fanatical frenzy by which he always ended his Friday happy hours. He
would only be happy for the weekend if his wife was made unhappy in the
extreme, if her life came within six inches of being ended.
And you think men don't know their way around a kitchen? Well, George knows
how to use every culinary device there is in his deviant and vicious attacks.
Kristen spent Saturday and Sunday bandaging fork holes all over her arms,
icing the back of her head where George hit her with the back of a meat
cleaver. In her stupor of stupidity, she justified that George must really
love her because he did not hit her (yet!) with the sharp side of the cleaver.
Using only kitchen utensils as his anti-woman weapons, George felt he had a
safe alibi for the times he went too far, even by his own sadistic standards,
and Kristen had to call 911 and get ER treatment just to survive.
"Those are the marks from the stuff she uses to cook with. I don't have a clue
where she keeps them or how to use them. She can really be a clutzy cook some
times, and she is always doing things like adding too much mustard, or too
little oregano, you know what I mean..."
Kristen was too afraid (and often too sedated) to ever tell the whole story,
so George's version was always accepted by the cops.
Fortunately for Kristen,and for millions of others, there is Erin.
Although Erin has never been abused by anyone, she is the zealous leader of
the Society of Castration for Retribution.
She's still in her '20s. She inherited millions from who-knows-where, and she
is on a mission to save the abused women (and others) of the world, to form a
society among them, to make them do something so ultimately dominant that they
will never allow themselves to be abused again.
Erin has her computer assistants scan the hospital log and police blotter of
every newspaper website around the world. She can tell when a cover-up, or a
screw-up, or whatever kind of fuck-up happened to allow an injustice of abuse
to a woman.
For example: "Scarbourough police called EMT's Saturday morning to treat a
woman for wounds she suffered by falling on her kitchen cutlery..."
Erin and her crew always know better. They read between the lines for what
really happened, and they immediately charge out to meet the suffering woman,
and then mete out justice.
Erin's Learjet is always fueled and ready to go. She's even the ace pilot.
When she throttles that mini-rocket to full force, she really does leap tall
buildings in a single bound. She never uses more than 10 feet of runway, and
she and her associates are ascending to their plane of righteousness at Mach
One.
She's at the Scarbourough airport in no time.
She doesn't need much runway to land either. With special modifications to the
tail, and extra computer-aided distance and speed sensors, she can bleed her
airspeed at the perfect pace to let that Lear gently drop to a stop at
exactly-timed and exactly-positioned full-stall.
As her plane stalls to its stop, the women are already out the door and
running to limos Erin has radioed ahead for. These are all high-performance
limos, with high-performance drivers (all members of Erin's Society for
Castration for Retribution), and they are always fully equiped with their own
type of kitchen equipment.
Erin's Society for Castration for Retribution (the SCR) meets Kristen in
intensive care. They've changed into surgeons' gowns while enroute, so they
have no problem gaining access to the woman they will save.
Quietly, they whisper their "how-do-you-do's" in the ICU.
They tell Kristen everything she has been needing to hear for years. In her
six inches from death, she sees Erin and her SCR as angels arriving for her
salvation.
Kristen doesn't have to be convinced right away of George's need for
castration. She doesn't need to decide right away. But she will be convinced,
and she will decide. And like always, it will be nearly right away.
I won't describe how Kristen was convinced, or anything about the 12 steps it
takes only 12 minutes to go through when a battered woman first meets the SCR.
We don't want the abusing men to get any hints that we are on to them, and
that things will be coming off of them.
I don't need to describe the methods of the SCR anymore than I have. If you
need them, they WILL be there for you. If you've figuratively had a stomach
full of abuse by a man for much too long, then soon enough the SCR will
literally have your stomach full of the abusing man once and for all.
Patience.
Another Friday night happy hour ends with the apparently romantic interlude at
the kitchen table. But this time, Kristen does put way too much mustard on the
sandwich.
Mustard and more.
Soon George awakens to find himself tied naked, face up, on the same kitchen
table where he began his own rituals of abuse.
That big cleaver is there too.
And that six inches from life that Kristen went through far too many times is
now represented by six inches of George that WILL meet its death.
Erin's angelic group has prepped Kristen well for her initiation that will
bring her salvation and membership in the SCR. Many of the SCR are there to
help.
Gagged with any kitchen utensil handy, George will watch his castration and
penectomy but be silent about it.
Weilded by Kristen, the sharp side of the cleaver does its thing, and George's
thing falls onto a plate.
Some in the SCR are doctors and nurses, and they are humanistic enough to save
George's pathetic life by sewing him up. A dickless, ball-less eunuch.
And not one of those many nice eunuchs-by-choice, but a eunuch for peace and
justice. More accurately, he has lost his piece for justice.
The medical profession is not the only profession well-represented in the SCR,
there are many, many. Master chefs, for example, with a master recipe for
beer-battered woman-batterer's balls.
Kristen, with her new-found strength and determination, and with the help of
the SCR experts, really enjoys preparing George's penis and gonads with the
same kitchen utensils he had repeatedly used on her.
It's not that George tastes all that great, even though the expert chefs do a
magnificent job of getting blood from this twip of a turnip. It is the
symbolism of it all.
Several bites and Kristen is swallowed into her new life of safety within the
SCR, and George's manhood is swallowed away forever.
Classy Bitch is, of course, an SCR member herself. The members of many abusive
men have been severed with her there in assistance. Now, Erin's SCR is not a
man-hating society -- it has many men as helpful associates -- but a society
for protecting society from the evil caused by a world with way too many cocks
and way too many balls.
* * * |
Time Technician | NULLIFICATION | Please discard my original Time Technician story and replace it with this, word-smythed version. ThanksJim Packpac13man@yahoo.com | ` Time Technician `
The first thing you perceive after transfer is darkness and disorientation.
It's down-right uncomfortable! You go from being still, thoughtful, pensive
and non-moving, to bright lights, loud noises and throbbing headaches. God,
what a way to live! If I didn't have to do this for the Company, I would
settle down in my native Georgia, buy a double-wide and have sex with my
daughters, like everyone else!
I can't do that, of course. The Company owns me, body and soul. I signed on,
years ago to do this job. My family was paid a handsome stipend for my
services. I am a "Time Technician", a member of a small group of men and women
who police the corridors of time to prevent the Xiccans from corrupting our
own past, distorting it into rampant feminism, tree hugging and sexual
debauchery.
In order to do this job, the 120 or so of us are frozen into human Popsicles,
stored away in heavy freezers and used. Our souls are ripped from our rock-
hard bodies and transported back through time to battle and thwart the efforts
of the paganistic Xiccans.
The technology was developed back in 2071. The first human soul was
transported back to 1998, a man who invaded and controlled the body of one of
the most infamous women in history: Senator Hillary Rodham Clinton. His sexual
appetite was uncontrollable, even in female skin, as he combined sex with
business on a regular basis, almost exposing and ruining our mission.
Enough of this daydreaming! My mind and sight was clearing enough to perceive
my surroundings. I was lying on my side on a cold, dark, wet curb with water
running across my leg, hard stone against my head. Did I make it to my target
date? The computers were never wrong before, at least since they developed the
new software that probed the actual arrival-body beforehand. Software was
always suspect, though. The proverbial "bugs" always had to be worked out. I
was supposed to arrive in the body of an English "Bobby", about 35, who walked
his beat in London, 1888. Male personalities always transferred to male
bodies, so there was no need to worry. Sure...
The Xiccans were planning a huge ceremony and recruiting drive at Stonehenge
that month, luring hundreds of young, nubile men and women to the weeklong
affair of lesbian sex, male sacrifice, genital amputation and cannibalism. I
was appalled. I intended to rally the police department to rout out several of
the female conspirators and arrest them before they could start. It was
quickly becoming clear that my mission was not going to be so simple.
As I awoke, I willed my arms and legs to move. I became aware that things were
not as they should be. Instead of being in the uniform of the Bobbie, I became
aware of the long skirt, which was wrapped around my stocking-clad legs and my
chest, which was bound in some tight fitting clothing. What the hell was going
on?
As I raised my head and tried to sit up, I immediately yelped in pain as I
yanked the long, flowing hair that was under my elbow, ouch! I sat, legs
spread wide on the dark, damp street corner, skirt bunched around my wide
thighs. My gut was being squeezed like a vice which hampered my breathing so
much, I had to try and stand. As I did so, unsteadily, I felt my ribcage and
noticed my ample bosom was held in check by a tight-fitting corset, which
extended down to my belly.
Continuing on down, my hands traveled the length of my torso revealing my
slightly rounded belly, wide hips, sharply protruding hip bones, ample butt
and absolutely nothing in my crotch area, between my legs.
Shit, I was a woman! "My God", I thought, "The computers have really screwed
up this time! They've landed me in the body of a woman!" The very, vile,
wretched species I was supposed to thwart! Computer upgrades be damned! I was
going to bomb Microsoft when I got back!
How was I supposed to complete my mission now? I staggered slowly towards the
nearest pub I could see across the street; the "Boar's Head". There was nobody
on the fog-shrouded streets. I hoped I could pass as a woman long enough to
activate the transfer signal mechanism to tell the computers to pull me back.
I had to stay "in-host" for a day in order for the signal to work properly.
Just my luck! Being a bitch for a day was going to force me to demand double
pay when I got back! I didn't mind being a woman, though. I had always
fantasized about being one, with a slit instead of my massive cock and balls,
a beautiful face and figure and big tits to top it all off. It's just the
fact that I was in a period of history that didn't give women very much power
or leeway. I would have to be very feminine and submissive, yuuck!
I loathed the thought of having to deal with men, especially the ones that
knew the woman whose body I occupied. My walk towards the pub was awkward; all
my center of gravity was too low, and too top heavy. Before I could reach the
pub, a man walked out of the shadows and asked me if I would like to be with
him tonight, (disgusting).
He offered a few pound notes in one hand, carried a black, shiny, Gladstone
bag in the other and smelled faintly of antiseptic. Before I could think of an
appropriate response to his advances, he grabbed me by my right arm and hauled
me, forcefully into the adjacent alleyway, my feminine physique offering
little resistance.
My first thought was to punch the asshole right in the nose and follow up with
a knee to the crotch. Before I could attempt that, he opened the bag and
produced a dull, instrument, which looked like a crude scalpel and pushed it
against my throat. Shocked and terrified I could only utter: "Please, Sir,
don't hurt me, I'm only a simple woman looking for a place to spend the
night".
For some reason, this only fueled his anger. He pressed the scalpel against my
throat and grabbed me forcefully by the chin, pushing my head back. He
muttered something about my being: "a filthy slut who needed to be cleansed"
and then pushed the sharp tip of the scalpel against what should have been my
Adam's apple.
Appalled, I stiffened and tried to knee him in the groin. My attack glanced
off his turned leg, only intensifying his anger. "You filthy slut", he roared.
I jumped in dismay as the tip of his scalpel started to cut into my chest as
he drew it down. He didn't force it into my chest but rather cut away at my
tight bodice. A few quick slices and the tight fitting bodice parted nicely,
allowing my breasts to flop out, large dark nipples and all. My host’s breasts
were very large and heavy, causing me to gasp at the forward-falling effect it
produced.
His scalpel continued downward, cutting away my dresses, petticoats and
corset, revealing the lacey pantaloons underneath. Frozen in terror, I allowed
him to cut away my undergarments, panties and stockings.
The foggy night air was cold and harsh against my delicate, female pubes. He
grunted as he undid his trousers, forcing his fat prick out of his pants and
shoving it against my mound.
God, how disgusting it was to have to submit to that advance! I had no dick or
balls any more, just a warm, little slit that was, against my will, starting
to get hot and wet, as his hard male rod pushed against my suddenly wet crack.
He brought the scalpel up and pressed it against my neck as his hot penis
started to part my "lips".
I felt my "lips" part and yield to the hot, throbbing tool, pushing against
them. Against my will, my legs almost gave way with an intense feeling of
ecstasy as his dick hit my host's clit.
Was there no escape from this horrible encounter? The hand with the scalpel
was now hanging limp at my left side, while his other hand grasp my right butt
cheek pulling it towards him and forcing my decidedly moist slit up and
towards his hard rod.
His burning-hot penis head suddenly began forcing itself into my dismayingly
juicy and pliant vagina, forcing my lips apart and seeking deeper pleasures.
Women, incredibly disgusting! I thought. I reached for his scalpel hand
slowly, while his fat, hard, hot dick plowed, slowly into my host's vagina.
Unwillingly, it started sending thrills up my spine and my eyes glazed over at
the joy of it. God, stop! This man was trying to kill me! I quickly grabbed
his hand with the scalpel, turned it and forced it deep into his belly.
He grunted with pain and I actually felt his penis start to widen inside me as
he quickened his thrust deep into my very wet pussy. I forced him out of me
and he fell backwards, onto the dirty street.
Showing signs of growing rage, he tried to rise up and choke me, but my hand
now held the scalpel. Quickly, I grabbed his still hard penis, thrust the
scalpel deep into the base, between his dick and balls and sliced down and
around. Almost instantly, his scrotum and balls were in my hand. Warmed by his
sticky, flowing, lifeblood, I sliced deeper. He grunted in pain, which struck
a deep, emotional chord in me that I had never experienced before, forcing me
to continue pushing the scalpel up and around his still hard penis.
Suddenly, his dick was severed and lying in my hand, the blood squirting out
of it. I threw it against the dank, brick wall, scrambled to my feet and ran.
My torn clothes started falling off of me as I ran to the nearest pub.
I fell into the arms of a "Bobby" who tried to cover me with his cloak, all
embarrassed at my female nakedness and large jiggling breasts. "Aye, Missus,
this is no way for a lady to run around at night, not with Jack the Ripper on
the loose! Let me take you to your flat to get some clothing!"
Later that night, in the comfort of my room, I activated the signal for the
computer to retrieve me and reset the settings for my mission.
Jack the Ripper was never heard from again after that night in 1888 and there
was no way in hell that I was ever going back, especially in the body of a
woman!
Pacman
* * * |
With This Ring I Thee Wed | GAY, PENECTOMY | A quick one for Johnny_60016. Thanks for the feedback. Normal disclaimers apply. I'm sure that the characters here resemble someone- living and/or dead. Hopefully they love each other as much as our two heros. Have you ever wondered what it would be like to go all the way? Would you commit? | ` “Johnny, will you marry me?” The words echo through my mind even now, three
years later. I don’t regret my answer any longer, or the consequences of that
decision, because I love David more than anything. I paid a huge price, but my
man was worth the cost. I only hope that I am worth the price he paid for me.
`
Sure, I miss my sexuality. Any 25 year-old would. I still have my masculinity
because my balls still swing in their soft sack between my legs. I believe
they hang lower now and are larger than ever before because each testicle is
literally exploding with testosterone and sperm. Genetically, my balls seek a
receptive woman to impregnate, but I have always chosen to share my warm seed
only with my male lovers. There was this one time, as a young teen at band
camp, that I actually had sex with a girl. I became so physically ill that I
couldn’t cum, so I have pretty much decided that my path lies only with other
men.
That doesn’t matter now. Man or woman, my drive to impregnate my lover is as
strong as ever. I lack only the tool to insert my seed into my lover’s body,
or to call it forth myself. Any orgasm I might have is only with my lover’s
assistance and is achieved through a massage of my prostate. It is messy and
humiliating to achieve an orgasm in this way, but the sight of my pent up seed
spraying randomly in all directions from my cockless crotch is extremely
erotic to me, and to him. It has become a control tool for my husband because
those orgasms are so rare that they have become very precious to me. Of course
I now totally control him also in the same way, so it all evens out.
I wonder if any other male from 15 to 30 could possibly refrain from cumming
at least once every day? How would you feel with all of the desire and none of
the ability? Could you go a month without cumming at all? Could you stand to
see your lover walking around nude and become incredibly aroused at the sight,
only to be denied release?
Of course, he suffers from the same desires and is frustrated by the same
simple fact. We are both cockless. We sacrificed our male organs to each other
as a very personal wedding gift when we were married. He knew what was going
to happen at the ceremony, but I didn’t discover the cost of our marriage
until it was too late. I know that I could have refused and fled, but I
understand that I would have lost him.
David is my lover and my soulmate. He has always known my darkest fantasies,
and he put a plan into action that granted my deepest desire. Of course, it
deprived both of us from ever experiencing an orgasm independent of the
other’s total involvement, consent and participation.
I’ve known David since we were 12 years old in middle school. We were both
popular in school, and I actually thought that David was straight at first. In
our puppy love years he experimented with several girls before turning to me
exclusively in high school.
Of course, I had many girlfriends too, since the girls regarded me as ‘safe’.
They knew, by my sophomore year, that I would never want to wave my prick in
their face like their lewd boyfriends. Of course, that didn’t keep us from
comparing notes about boys, and they always consulted with me regarding their
boyfriend’s cocks before asking them out. The boys knew this and used me to
send ‘messages’ to the girls they were horny for. It got so bad for a while
that two boys actually came up to me in the locker room during PE to show off
their manhood. They stood in front of me with their hard cocks in their hands
and actually told me to tell their girlfriends how big they were. It was a wet
dream for me- and a laugh for the girls. Of course, neither of those boys got
anything out of their effort. Their cocks were just too small, and I was able
to warn their ‘girlfriends’ before the disappointment.
David and I played around a little bit during middle school like all young
teenagers do. As he and I were entering the throes of puberty, we often
compared sizes, hair and other characteristics. Of course, when we found that
we could make stuff come out of our cocks, we thought that we had invented a
fun new game. It was a short step to helping each other cum, and we haven’t
looked back since.
There were many happy days of sex separating our early puberty from our
marriage. I can remember endless nights and afternoons of play. I can easily
recall countless images of my lover naked, or almost as good, frolicking in
his tight Hanes underwear. I lusted for his body at the mere scent of him. I
admit it: I had it bad.
Oh how I admired his lean body. He sported shortly cropped blond hair that
complemented his tanned body. His cock was enormous on him, like mine was on
me, since we were both skinny teens trying hard to grow up to our man-sized
cocks. I knew that penis as well as I knew my own. The ridge under the soft
foreskin, the vein along the top of the shaft, the soft glans and moist eye,
the hardness sheathed by the silky skin of his manhood: All were intimate
parts of my lover. The scent of his sack and the warmth of his sperm were
nearly as familiar to me as my own. I admired his body then because it brought
me great pleasure.
My joy is filled to bursting at the memory of our first evening of
intercourse. That wonderful feeling of his manhood filling the space inside
me, and his rushing sperm coating my boiling insides shall stay with me
always. Tightly linked to that memory is the feeling of my cock inside him as
he returned the favor and gave me the pleasure that I didn’t deserve.
During our sophomore year as we prepared for a project in our Biology class I
thought of putting a slide of our fresh sperm under the microscope. We were
alone in the science lab after normal school hours with special permission of
our teacher. We just wanted so see what it looked like, so David and I wacked
off together in the back of the science lab. We mixed a drop of my sperm with
a drop of his sperm and placed it under the microscope lens. My lord, we must
have been the most fertile boys in the whole school. There were sperm cells
swimming everywhere!
While I was staring through the lens at all the sperm swimming in every
direction, I felt my lover grasp my cock. A moment later I felt the sharp edge
of a dissection scalpel running across my pubes, shaving them away as it went.
I dared not move, but the feeling of jeopardy started a surge of adrenaline in
me that I later recognized as the start of my darkest fantasy.
David must have recognized my arousal because he laid the scalpel aside after
he had shaved away the bush of hair atop my penis. Finally daring to move, I
pulled my eyes from the rubber cups of the microscope to watch my lover slowly
engulf my intensely erect cock in his mouth. It was the most intense orgasm of
my life, and the beginning of the end for my manhood. I didn’t know what it
was called, but I knew that I someday wanted to feel the pain of my cock
coming off.
Of course, the shallow cuts David left behind with the scalpel reminded me of
the potential pain of that procedure. They took days to heal, but his loving
care during that time confirmed that he was truly mine. Memories of his soft
fingers rubbing soothing gel into my shaved crotch still visit me in my best
dreams.
I still keep my crotch shaved for David now. David chose to take the sign of
my manhood’s maturity from me. Who am I to allow it to return?
The day of our wedding was a forgone conclusion. We had been tagged as taken
by every one of our friends since we were juniors in high school. It only
seemed natural to make it ‘official’. So, as soon as it became legal for two
gay men to be married, David and I quickly made arrangements for the ceremony.
I was a little confused at first because David actually wanted two ceremonies.
The first was very secretive and would be the official marriage, but the
second was to be a Betazed styled ceremony a-la Star Trek. Of course, as
everyone knows, Betazed ceremonies require the participants and audience to be
nude. The very naughtiness of that idea was enough to make us laugh for weeks
but the thought of David’s mother naked was enough to sober us right back up
again. David’s family was very wealthy and agreed to cover the expense of our
marriage ceremonies. Frankly, my job as lifeguard doesn’t allow for much extra
spending money.
Over 350 of our friends and their families responded to the invitation to our
second, and only public, ceremony. David would not reveal the plans for the
first ceremony, but the two events were separated by almost four months. I
couldn’t understand the reason for the secrecy, or the extended separation
between the ceremonies, but I trust David in all things. I would have been
fine with an intimate ceremony, but I sensed by the growing anticipation that
something more was in the offing.
Our first ceremony was to be attended by our closest friends. A small group of
50 friends were quietly invited. All accepted, although I wasn’t sure what
they were agreeing to attend when we began to receive the RSVPs back in the
mail.
The day itself dawned bright and cheery. As tradition dictates, neither of us
could see our groom after midnight of the night before the ceremony. I was
horny as hell but did not even consider relieving my incredible drive. My
balls boiled with a week of pent up cum and the testosterone of a man in his
early twenties surged through my veins. I was almost desperate enough to have
screwed anything that wore pants at that point. I looked forward to some heavy
sex tonight and wanted to save myself for my lover’s pleasure later. Little
did I know what was in store for me before darkness fell again.
We had agreed to have the ceremony at a private hall. I was informed, as I
entered the building, that I was to wait in an anteroom next to the left
entrance of the hall. I was told that David was already waiting in another
room near the opposite entrance. David’s first marriage gift to me was a
beautiful oriental styled silk robe. The robe was cut slightly above mid-thigh
and the silk had been dyed a dark crimson. I was told to put it on with
nothing underneath for the ceremony. I did so, removing my suit and
anticipating the thrill of being naked under a single layer of silk in front
of our guests. I knew my cock would go instantly hard as soon as the silk
touched it, but I relished the feeling anyway as the blood surged into my
glans with the cool silk rubbing across it.
When the time came, I followed my surging manhood out of the anteroom. At the
first strains of the marital march I took my first step toward my beloved. The
revelation was suddenly complete as I took in the crowd of our friends, all
dressed in matching robes of blackest silk. Across the hall, my eyes locked
with those of my fiancé wearing his crimson silk robe to match mine. I noticed
the bulge of his erection leading his path down the short aisle to where the
minister and our wedding party waited for us.
It was only as I turned toward my lover at the base of the aisle that I
noticed a heavy wooden table waiting in front of the minister. Two knives laid
side by side, their handles tied beautifully with white ribbon. I couldn’t
imagine what they were for, but the thoughts of that day long ago where I
submitted to my boyfriend’s loving hand flashed before my eyes. The crowd
behind us faded out of our consciousness as we existed only for each other.
We met in the middle, David and I. Facing each other across the low wooden
table, we held hands while David explained the full measure of his gift to me,
and mine to him. This wonderful gift, and this horrible sacrifice was going to
be given today. This was the cost of our happiness.
Not knowing what else to do, and never considering for a moment to flee, I
nodded briefly before meeting my lover in a long kiss over the center of the
table. The hall was silent as our best men untied and removed our silken
crimson robes to reveal our nudity to everyone present.
Still holding hands, David and I broke our kiss to watch the preparations for
the marriage ceremony and our sacrifices to each other. Our best men untied
the bows around the handles of the knives to reveal two ribbons of pure white
silk. Unseen before, but now evident to me was a ring of purest gold tied to
the end of the long ribbons. The inside of the rings were each edged with
sharp barbs.
Each best man handed us the short silk ribbon and explained that we should tie
it around our lover’s penis as close to his body as possible. The ribbons were
evidently hiding an elastic cord because I felt the subtle tightening on my
cock after David cinched it tight. The silk began to bite into the skin of my
penis to a point that it was uncomfortable but not yet painful. The blood was
clearly trapped in my cock since the glans darkened slightly but the jeopardy
of our situation caused me to enjoy the hardest erection I could remember up
to that time.
Suddenly, the intent of the golden rings was made clear as we slipped a ring
over the head of each other’s cock. We exchanged the beginning of our vows,
“With these rings we do wed” as they slid on easily, but the barbs were
obviously intended to keep them from slipping easily back off.
David’s Best Man retracted my lover’s foreskin to allow the ring to nestle
behind the corona of his glans. Since I was cut as an infant, my man only
needed to make sure that the ring was settled closely behind my glans. I could
feel the barbs rub there on the sensitive skin behind the ridge and dig into
the frenelum under the eye on the underside. My man handed the end of my
ribbon to David as I accepted David’s leash. We were instructed to tie each
leash as tightly as possible to a small eyebolt for that purpose on our side
of the table.
David followed the instruction very enthusiastically, pulling my cock tightly
toward him and tying the ribbon off in a fancy bow. The tension pulled me
against the table and pressed my cock against the smooth surface of the wood.
My scrotum nestled protectively into a concave fur-lined cavity on the edge of
the table. The tension of the ribbon had now firmly set the ring barbs firmly
into the skin of my cock shaft. My woody was stretched as tightly as possible
across the wooden table, ready now for the kiss of my lover’s blade. David and
I had long experimented with some gentle sexual torture in the past, so the
pain was not unbearable and I was resolved to accept anything that David
wanted to do to me.
I was somewhat gentler with David. I drew my lover toward me by pulling the
ribbon and his leashed cock toward it’s demise. I tied the ribbon firmly to
the table and lovingly wiped a drop of blood from the glans that had snuck
past the constricting golden ring. I could see the pain of the ring clearly
painted across his features, but we were both committed to each other
regardless of the momentary discomfort or the certainty of the coming pain.
The lesson of the minister was long-winded and forgettable. We stood there,
bound by our perfect golden rings while the minister droned on and a singer
belted out our special song. Altogether, we were probably staring into each
other’s eyes for fifteen minutes while our cocks deadened from the
constricting bands at the base and bled gently under the rings.
The moment of our remaining vows finally arrived. Of course, the nature of the
final vow required us to give them simultaneously with the sacrifice of our
partner’s manhood.
Picking up the knives, our Best Men handed each of us a blade. The Damascus
steel blades were weighty, but keen and obviously very expensively made. Both
of us took the handle into our right hands and, with the guidance of our men,
placed the sharp edge at the base of our lover’s cock. The feel of the sharp
blade caused my penis to surge, drawing a drop of blood at the slight touch.
To prevent any hesitation, our best men covered each of our hands with their
own. I somehow knew that we wouldn’t be permitted to stop once they felt us
begin the cut.
Looking into my lover’s eyes I accepted everything that he was, and everything
that I was about to give him. I saw him realize the same as he began the
movement to remove my cock from my body. The pain was immediate and severe as
the supremely keen edge of the knife separated my skin and began to bite into
the meat of my manhood. The blood oozed only slightly because of the extended
period with the fancy tourniquet applied at the base. I think that the time
had also served to deaden the pain, but the tears came anyway.
I could see the pain on David’s face as well. Just as I thought, his best man
did not allow me any hesitation. His hand pressing down on mine, I completed
the cut to see my new Husband’s manhood spring away from his body toward me. A
moment more, and my gift to my Husband separated from my body and almost
eagerly leapt toward him. All my hopes for sex were for naught. Consumed in my
need for my lover, I had given up all control of myself to him.
Four months later saw us walking hand-in-hand down an aisle of the same public
hall. This time there was no table and we were surrounded by almost 500 of our
closest friends, family and their friends. As usual, the friendly gay guys get
the best turnout- but I swear I didn’t know half of the people who were in the
hall that day. Of course, as a Betazed styled ceremony, everyone was fully
nude excepting only jewelry. I couldn’t help but admire the curve of the
occasional nicely formed buttock. Some of the men couldn’t help themselves;
they stood stoically erect as the wedding party passed by. Surrounded by so
much nude flesh, many of the men in the crowd succumbed to their basest
desires. I couldn’t blame them either. There were a LOT of very cute guys in
attendance of all ages from teens to twenties. There were even a few older
guys that were hot too. Of course, the teen boys spent all their time eyeing
the teen girls in the audience. I also saw two of the teen boys who spent
their time during the ceremony checking out all the other teen guys.
Of course, everyone had heard of the gift that David and I had given each
other. Most didn’t believe it until they finally saw the proof. You could see
their eyes travel down our chests until they reached our crotch. Then,
widening slightly, the eyes took in the truth of our manhood being removed at
the base.
Both of us were fully erect as we proceeded down the aisle, but nothing of
that excitement protruded from our bodies. The only difference between us now
was the fact that David sported a trimmed bush above his fractional stub while
I shaved my pubes fully away. Our balls gently swung as we walked together,
hand in hand, to our future as husband and husband.
* * * |
Andy XXIX: Prison Life | GAY, TESTICLES, MINOR | While Charlie busies himself trying to live in this alien place, his family are trying to figure out what happened and why. | ` `
XXIX Prison Life
"You've been doing a lot better than I expected you to, Charlie," Dr. Ramsey
said to Charlie. "I'm going to have you moved to your permanent cell today.
What do you think of that?"
"Does it matter?" Charlie answered sullenly.
"Yes, it matters. I didn't ask your permission, only what you think about it.
I'm interested in what you think, Charlie. That's my job."
"I'm sorry, doctor, I guess I'm just looking for a fight today."
"Wrong day to be looking for a fight, Charlie. You're being integrated into
the population. The last thing you want to do is get into a fight down there.
You'll be back on 16 and probably stay here for three months, not to mention
the beating you could get. I strongly advise you to get to know the boys
first, then pick your opponent carefully before you start any fights."
Charlie had been working very hard to learn the routine of this foreign place
and fit into it. He had been here almost a month, and it was getting pretty
boring. He still wasn't allowed visitors, wasn't back in school, had no work
assignments. His only task right now was to keep his nose clean, visit Dr.
Ramsey, the shrink, for two hours every day, then go up to the roof on nice
days for his hour of fresh air. That left a lot of time to himself, nothing to
do, and Charlie was not used to having time on his hands. He had not been
allowed off the floor unless escorted, which was getting old very quickly.
Sargent Brady had come and taken him to the exercise room at least three times
a week, but Charlie wanted more. Working out, lifting weights, even shooting a
few baskets, were not the sort of thing he enjoyed doing, but it sure beat
lying on his back staring at the ceiling. Charlie also realized that he would
have to work out pretty intensely to keep his muscle tone, and that was
important to Charlie.
As soon as his counseling appointment was over, Charlie went back to his cell.
Sargent Brady would be up to get him, he was told. There was nothing to pack,
he still hadn't been given his CD player back and the two books he'd brought
with him had been read at least three times. This was a part of his life that
Charlie would have some problems getting used to: being able to move with a
moment's notice, with no thought to what he was leaving behind because he'd be
leaving nothing behind! Everything he owned now he could carry in his hands.
The only clothes he owned were those on his person, and he'd be giving them up
in the morning for another set which was exactly the same.
Lunch time came, and still no Sargent Brady. Charlie knew that if he didn't
eat at his appointed time, he didn't eat at all. This had happened twice
already, and was perhaps the only reason Charlie was anxious to get out of
segregation. He sighed, wishing the man would hurry up. He was hungry! He
contemplated going on his own. He knew the way, but he'd probably be stopped
at the elevator, wouldn't he? And even if he did get to the cafeteria alone,
he'd end up in segregation for the rest of his life for breaking one of their
stupid rules! Couldn't they see he had no intention of trying to escape?
Couldn't he make them understand he meant to get along the best he could? No,
of course they couldn't! He was a FELON! And Felons were not to be trusted,
nor given any credit for intelligence or common sense. So he stayed put.
"Come on, Conner," a voice he didn't know called. "I haven't got all day. Time
to meet your new roomie."
"Roomie?" Charlie questioned.
"Yeah, roomie! You didn't think you'd get your own private room in this resort
for the next four years, did you?"
"I dunno, sir. I guess I never thought about it at all."
"Well, come on. You're moving to my kingdom."
Charlie was getting rather tired of correction officers who didn't bother to
tell inmates their names. Of course his name was obvious, it was printed on
his picture id in large letters, just above the word "FELON" which was in even
larger letters. That word bothered Charlie; to him it was telling the entire
world to watch out for this guy, he has already proven himself to be a piece
of garbage. And that tag had to be clipped to his chest at all times! Charlie
squinted to see the officer's small brass name tag as they walked to the
elevator. "Name's Sargent Ackerman," the officer said gruffly when he realized
what Charlie was up to. "I'm in charge of your floor. You can call me sir."
"Yes, sir," Charlie replied. The remainder of the elevator ride was in
silence. Charlie knew he wasn't going to like this dude.
"About time you got here," the boy scolded as Charlie was ushered into his new
cell. "I been waitin' to take you to lunch."
"Sorry," Charlie said. Then he wondered why he'd apologized. Obviously there
was nothing he could do about it, but he did have to live with this guy, so
perhaps it was best not to get off on the wrong foot.
"My name's Mullin," the boy said as he offered his hand, "Larry Mullin."
"Hey, Larry!" Charlie answered as he shook the hand. "I'm Charlie Conner."
"You're also a freakin' white midget!" Larry said with what Charlie thought
was disdain. "How old are you?"
"Fourteen," Charlie answered.
"Don't look more'n twelve to me," Larry observed. "Anyway, c'mon, let's do
lunch. We can talk as we eat. If we don't get there pretty soon we won't get
any." Larry was grinning widely, evidently very proud of his 'do lunch'
attempt at humor. At least that's the only thing Charlie could see that was
even remotely approaching humor in this whole situation.
"I'm seventeen," Larry said as they rode down the elevator. "I been here three
years, an' I don't plan on leavin' any time soon. How 'bout you?"
"Well," Charlie said, "like I said, I'm fourteen. I've been here just a couple
days under four weeks."
"And you're out of segregation already! I'm impressed. What'd ya do, give
Ramsey a blow job?"
"No!" Charlie snapped back. He was offended at the suggestion and wanted his
new roommate to know it. Might as well get those ground rules established from
the start.
"Sorry," Larry said. "I was just kiddin'." Charlie was beginning to see that
Larry fancied himself quite the kidder. So far Charlie did not share that
opinion. As the elevator descended, Charlie took a good look at his new
cellmate. Larry was taller than Charlie, but then so was everyone! Charlie
judged him to be perhaps average in height for a seventeen year old. He was
black and, Charlie thought, rather handsome. He wore his hair cropped close to
his skull, perhaps a half inch in length or less, which was about the way
Charlie's was now. He looked to Charlie to be quite muscular, so Charlie
assumed he'd spent a lot of time in the weight room. Good, he thought, they
could spot each other, encourage each other. Charlie was beginning to hope
they'd become good friends.
"So," Charlie said when they were seated with their trays, "what're you in
for?"
"Rule number one, Conner baby," Larry replied, "ya don't ask folks why they're
here. Most of the guys in here are innocent and don't wanna talk about it. If
you don't believe they're innocent, just ask 'em. If they wanna tell ya why
they're here, they'll tell ya without being asked."
"Sorry," Charlie said. "I didn't know."
"It's ok. I got life for killin' a store clerk in a holdup. How 'bout you?"
"But I thought..." Charlie started to protest, thinking he'd just been told it
was bad protocol to ask why someone was here, but he thought better of it.
"Second degree murder. I had my brother killed."
"Oh yeah, I heard about that! Cops killed him, didn't they?"
"Uh-huh."
"But I thought you kept sayin' you were innocent."
"I am, but you're not gonna believe me, are you? Besides, you didn't ask me
what I did, you asked me why I'm here. That's why I'm here." After he'd given
Larry his smart answer, Charlie regretted it. He really was anxious to make
their relationship as pleasant as possible, given the circumstances. To his
great relief, Larry laughed. "You're a little smart-ass, ain't ya?" he said
through his mouthful of food. "I think I'm gonna like you!"
"I hope so," Charlie heard himself saying. "I could use a friend. I kinda left
all the ones I had on the outside, an' I don't think they're gonna be joining
me any time soon."
Larry roared with laughter. "Man," he exclaimed, "you're funny! I can't
believe you're jokin' like that, an' you only been in here a month. Usually
little kids like you cry for their mommy for months!"
"What good would that do?" Charlie commented. "The Superintendent told me I
should make the best of things the way they are and I'd be happier, and that
seemed like good advice to me."
"The what? Oh, you mean the warden!"
"He called himself superintendent."
"Yeah, they don't call themselves wardens any more, as if it makes any
difference to us. We call him the warden. But I can't believe your attitude!
You must think you're gettin' outa here in a few weeks."
"Not really. I was kinda hoping at first, but now I'm thinking this could be a
long haul. I still haven't heard from my lawyer since I came in."
"They're all jerks. You won't hear from 'em unless someone finds some extra
money for 'em. An' all the way from Wilmington, hell, you'll never see him
again!"
Charlie thought about what Larry had said. He'd been told that they would be
contacting a local attorney who would act as liaison between Charlie and Mark,
but evidently they'd had some trouble setting that up. Or perhaps they'd
forgotten? "Don't matter anyway," Charlie said. "Soon as I get back in school,
this place won't be half bad."
"School? You LIKE school?"
"Uh-huh. At least I did. I haven't been to school for quite a while."
"What grade are you in?"
"I just finished ten. What grade are you in?"
"Well, I'm in ten, but I ain't finished yet."
"That's so cool!" Charlie exclaimed. "We can study together."
"I said I'm not finished. I gotta repeat ten. This'll make the fourth time."
"I can help you get through it."
"Why?"
"So you can go on to eleven, or course! Then we'll be in the same class."
"What's so important about school? Hello! You in there, Charlie? You're in
jail! For life! What're you gonna need an education for?"
"Don't make any difference where I am, I've still gotta live. I still need to
know things."
The two boys went round and round as they ate. Neither could even begin to
understand the viewpoint of the other, but Charlie refused to be discouraged.
He was anxious to get registered and begin classes, and he made a mental note
to ask about it in the morning. Finally when they were done eating, Larry
suggested they spend some time hanging out. "You wanna go up to four?" he
asked. "We can shoot a few hoops, lift some weights, maybe get us a couple
bags of chips for later, whatever."
"Sure," Charlie answered. "I'd love to. But don't we have to ask first?"
"Nope. You're out of seg now. We got free time till 8 PM. Then we have to go
back to our floor and be good little inmates until lights out. They lock us
down at 10:00."
"And we can go wherever we like till eight?"
"Not exactly, but we can go to the fourth floor, or hang around the day room
on thirteen."
Charlie was thoroughly enjoying roaming around the prison with his new friend.
Although he wasn't quite ready to admit it yet, Larry was equally thrilled
with having this kid hanging on his arm, his every word, really. Larry had
never allowed himself to get close to anyone. To him, to show love or concern
was to show weakness, and weakness or vulnerability had no place in his world.
It had been that way on the outside, and it was certainly the way it was in
here. He had never had a cell mate for more than three months, and he liked it
fine that way.
"What... Uhhhh... happened to your last cell mate?" Charlie grunted as he
lifted 130 pounds over his head.
"Hey!" Larry exclaimed. "You're pretty good, for a little guy. Where'd you get
strength like that?"
"I lived on a farm all my life. So what happened to him?"
"Who?"
"Your last cell mate. What happened to him?"
"He's gone. He turned 18 so they moved him to Foothills."
"Does Everybody go to Foothills when they leave here?"
"No, just the lucky ones."
"Why? What's so great about Foothills?"
"Hell, man, you drove past it coming here. You blind? That place rocks! It's
the newest prison in the system that takes kids from Western. You'll get to go
there sometimes, to see a doctor, or maybe take a class there or something."
"You've been there?"
"Yeah. Last year I had my tonsils out. They didn't have room for me here in
the hospital on fifteen, so they took me over there."
"They took your tonsils out at foothills? In the prison?"
"No, stupid! There's no operating room there! They took me to Central Prison
for that."
"Central? In Raleigh?"
"Uh-huh. Now that place REALLY rocks!"
"But that's maximum security! There's only lifer's and death row guys and
stuff in there."
"That's also the only place in the prison system where they do surgery. The
open and minimum custody guys get to go to local hospitals with a twenty- four
hour guard, but we bad-asses have to go to Central."
It was a sobering thought to Charlie, that if he needed surgery he'd have to
first endure that four or five hour drive, more than likely in a van; then
he'd be in with the worst of the worst. He still wasn't up on every aspect of
what happens in prisons, but he wasn't totally ignorant either. In fact he was
a little surprised that he'd already been here a month, and hadn't had to fend
off sexual advances even once. He wondered if he should ask Larry about that,
then decided he'd better just let sleeping dogs lie. He was learning very
quickly that the less he did or said to put himself in a compromising
situation, the better off he'd be. But that wasn't the only sobering thought
Charlie had.
"So," Larry said as he took Charlie's place on the bench press, "you want me
to be your protector or not?"
"Protector?" Charlie questioned. "Protector against what?"
"You can't be that dumb, Conner! Just look around you at all those horny studs
that don't get no sex. You can't tell me you haven't noticed 'em checking you
out."
"Yeah, I've noticed. I'm tryin' to ignore them."
"Ignore 'em all you like, but they're not gonna ignore you. It's only a matter
of time till two or three of 'em get you alone somewhere and rape your ass
off. Unless..."
"Unless you protect me? Is that where this conversation is going?"
"You got it."
"But there's lots of guys bigger than you. What makes you think..."
"Call it prison protocol, honor among thieves, whatever you want. Bottom line
is, if I'm doin' you regular no one else will bother you. That's just how it
is."
"Ok," Charlie said, "I understand. Either I get raped by you or I get raped by
someone else. I don't see the difference."
"The difference is that you said you liked me, at least a little. You know me.
I'll be more careful an' try not to hurt you. An' the biggest difference of
all, I don't have AIDS. At least I don't think I do."
"But you're not sure."
"No one can be sure, Conner."
"I'm sure I don't. And I don't plan to get it either. I appreciate it, Larry,
but I'll take my chances."
"Suit yourself."
"Uhh Larry?" Charlie said tentatively as they munched on an ice cream bar.
Charlie had bought them each one, together with a bag of chips each and a
soda. It was only the third time he'd used his card at the cashless canteen,
and he was thrilled at how well it seemed to work. He was also a little
surprised that the canteen was run by an inmate, and had vowed that he would
work himself into a job there.
"Yeah, Conner?" Larry answered.
"Is there a library in the prison?"
"Sure! But what the hell do you want a library for?"
"I want to get a book! What else would I want a library for?"
"I have no idea. You wanna read? Without being told?"
"Yeah, I like reading. What hours is the library open?"
"I have no idea, Conner! Dammit, man, you wanna ruin my reputation? Ask the
sarge!"
By the time the new friends got back to the thirteenth floor, it was 8 PM.
Sargent Ackerman had gone home, but the night Sargent, a man whose name Larry
told Charlie was Kincaid, was there. He seemed to Charlie a lot more pleasant
that his daytime counterpart, but Larry assured him that none of the "cops,"
as he called them, were to be trusted.
"The library is usually open all day during the week," Kincaid told Charlie,
"and sort of sporadically on the weekends. Is there something in particular
you need?"
"A couple things, sir," Charlie answered. "I was wondering if they had books I
could check out to read in my cell. You know, a novel of some sort. And I
forgot my Bible at home. I was hoping there'd be one in the library I could
use until I can get my own from home."
"The library is mostly for reference," Sargent Kincaid explained. "There are a
few novel type books I'm sure you can borrow, but we're mostly dependent on
what people donate. We don't have many guys in here who like to read. Actually
a lot of 'em can't read. As for a Bible, you should ask the chaplain, Captain
Eggerton. He can also tell you about the church group that meets downstairs
every Tuesday night. I'm sure they can help you out if the captain can't. I
doubt there's one in the library. It's not exactly on the best seller list in
here."
"Tuesday night? A church group? Am I allowed to go?"
"Long as you're not on disciplinary action or in segregation. Everyone's
allowed to go. Just go down to the ground floor on Tuesday night. They meet in
the visitor's room at 7."
"Cool!" Charlie said. "Thank you, sir."
"Would you like me to get word to the chaplain that you want to see him?
Actually I'm a little surprised he hasn't been up to meet you anyway. He
usually visits new inmates during their orientation."
"That would be great, sir! Thank you!"
For the first time since his arrival, Charlie got a good look at his new
surroundings. The floor was essentially divided into two halves, presumably
each half being a mirror image of the other. They were separated by the
elevator banks, a small control center, two sergeants' offices and other
service functions. Each half had a large day room which was ringed on two
sides with 25 cells. About half the cells were double, the rest single. The
day room faced the front of the building, with a large TV in one corner,
barred windows along the front wall. It had been through these windows that
Charlie had heard the voices when he'd first arrived. They were arranged in
such a way that one could not see the ground, only straight outward and
upward. Their function was obviously to provide light and fresh air, not to
give the occupants a view. It was certainly not the most luxurious
accommodations Charlie had ever seen, but in all it was much better than he
had dared hope.
The cells were large enough for a two level bunk, two desks and chairs, two
small shelf units, a toilet and a sink. Certainly not the spacious bedroom
he'd shared with Andy, but they looked comfortable enough to Charlie. The
doors were solid steel, remotely controlled sliders like all the others
Charlie had seen, with a small window near the top. They were all open, a
normal state until lights out. They could be operated individually, making it
possible to isolate an inmate in his own cell if necessary.
"Hey, Mullin," someone called, "that your new squeeze? Man, you're kinda
robbin' the cradle this time ain't ya?"
"Mess off, Johnson," Larry answered. "Guys, this here's Conner. He's gonna be
in our block for a while, unless you guys make him so sick with your ugly
faces he decides to leave."
The twenty or so teenagers in the day room wandered by and introduced
themselves. Charlie forgot almost every name as soon as he heard the next one,
but he knew he'd have lots of time to get to know everyone, so he wasn't
worried about it. Some shook his hand, some punched him lightly on the
shoulder, others showed outright disgust, probably at his small size. Pretty
typical guy stuff, he thought. Then after the introductions they all settled
down to watch the TV show that was on. "You take the top bunk, Conner," Larry
instructed when Charlie started for their cell.
Charlie didn't answer. He climbed up on his bunk, stripped to his boxers and
crawled under the blanket. He lay there listening to the chatter, the noise
from the TV. I'll never get to sleep, he said to himself; but Charlie was
tired. It had been a long, emotionally taxing day. In minutes, he was sound
asleep.
"Conner!" Sargent Ackerman yelled as Charlie got off the elevator, "where the
hell have you been? The chaplain's been here twice to see you."
"I just came from my appointment with Dr. Ramsey, sir," Charlie answered. "I
got to see him every morning. Sorry if I did anything wrong, but I went right
to sixteen from breakfast."
"After this, you check with me before you go wandering off. I'm supposed to
know where you are at all times."
"Sorry, sir, I thought..."
"You're not supposed to think. You're supposed to do as you're told. You do
that again and I'm gonna write you up."
"Yes, sir. I'll remember. May I go now?"
"Go where?"
"I thought I'd go see the chaplain. He's on the third floor isn't he?"
"You stay the hell off the third floor unless you're invited, you got that?"
"Yes, sir. But the chaplain..."
"He'll be back. So I suggest you go back to your cell and wait till he comes."
"Yes, sir." Charlie wanted to tell the ignorant SOB that he hadn't done
anything wrong, that he'd been told he had the run of the place and in fact
had an obligation to be where he had to be at the appointed times; but he
already knew it wasn't going to do any good, so he said nothing.
"We got a letter from Charlie today," Dennis announced at the dinner table.
"Yeah?" all the boys chorused, "what'd he say? How is he? Is he comin' home
soon? Can we go see him? Is he in school? When does his appeal to go court?"
"Hold on!" Dennis exclaimed as he shielded himself from the barrage. "One at a
time! He says that he's going to school in the prison and tutoring his cell
mate. He finished his time of isolation and orientation, and he's now in the
general population. He is hoping to be able to call next week, and by then he
should know when we can go visit him."
"Can we all go?" Paul demanded.
"Not for now. Charlie said he'd be limited to two or three. He wasn't sure if
that's a permanent limitation or just until they get to know him better. He
said that everything they do is a privilege based on a point system. If you
lose points by not doing right or getting into trouble, you don't get to do
all the things you'd like to do."
"Does he ever get out?" Andy asked, "I mean, like, for field trips or anything
like that?"
"I don't think so, Andy. He said there was a computer course he wanted to
take, but it was being held at a computer lab in the Foothills prison. He
wasn't allowed to go because he hasn't accumulated enough merit points yet."
"What's Foothills prison?" Christopher asked.
"That's another prison real close to where Charlie is," Dennis explained. "He
said it's a new prison and they have all sorts of things there that Western
doesn't have, but the kids at Western don't get to go there very often. He
said it's one of the things the Western kids strive for."
"Wow!" Billy exclaimed. "Imagine, having as one of your main ambitions going
to a prison! Even a new one! I don't know how he can stand it in there!"
"He seems happy enough," Dennis said. "You guys can read the letter after
supper if you like."
"Maybe it means he's given up," Paul suggested. "Maybe he's getting to where
he's planning on staying there the rest of his life, so he's making the best
of it."
"He's definitely making the best of it," Karen agreed. "That's just how
Charlie is, and I'm very proud of him for that. He is without question the
best I've ever seen at taking whatever situation he's in and making it work
for him. But I seriously doubt that he's given up. That just isn't Charlie."
"Conner!" Charlie's name being shouted only three feet away jolted him out of
his nap. It was almost 2:30, and he was still waiting for the Chaplain. He'd
missed his lunch, afraid to move lest the good chaplain should arrive again in
his absence. He knew that would land him in more trouble than he wanted, so
he'd just stayed in his cell.
"Yes, sir?" he answered as he sat up, then jumped down off the bunk.
"You wanted to see me?"
"I guess so. You're Captain Eggerton?"
"Last time I looked. What did you want, Conner?"
"Well, sir," Charlie answered, "I was talking with Sargent Kincaid last night.
He told me you might be able to help me get a Bible."
"Where did he ever get that idea?" the man demanded.
Charlie thought in his mind: "Well DUHHH! You ARE the chaplain! Isn't that
your business? Or perhaps I should try the janitor?" Fortunately he didn't
express his thoughts. Instead he just said, "I'm not sure sir. I know my folks
will bring me mine when they come to visit, so I was hoping I could borrow..."
"It wouldn't do for you to be without a Bible, would it Conner?"
"It isn't that, sir. I just... well, I've got a lot of time on my hands, and
sometimes I like to read it a little at night before I go to sleep."
The Chaplain eyed Charlie up and down, rubbing his chin the way Charlie's
father often did. Charlie was somewhat confused by his attitude, which was not
even close to what he would have expected from such a man. "I know all about
you, Conner!" he finally said with a venom that actually frightened Charlie.
"You go parading all over the state, singing your gospel music, making
everyone think what a good, pius little boy you are, singing the praises of
Jesus. Then you go and pull the stunt you did. Robbing, killing, drugs, and
probably more they never did catch you for. Did you think just because you
sing Gospel that no one would find you out? Do you have any idea how much
damage you've done? You get people all over the world admiring you, your
faith, your beliefs in that TV broadcast, and then you go on a robbing,
killing spree! There's some real low life in here, Conner, but you've got to
look up to every one of them. Give you a Bible? Not very likely! The Bible is
a sacred book, and I wouldn't defile one by giving it to you. You're not gonna
impress anyone in here reading your Bible, Conner, so you can just forget it!"
"What in hell was that all about?" Larry demanded as he wandered into the
cell, watching the chaplain as he stormed off in the direction of the
elevator.
"I..." Charlie stammered, "I really don't know." Charlie was so stunned, he
was completely at a loss for words. If he'd had his wits about him he probably
would have been devastated, but as it was, he just stood there dumb struck.
"I never saw the chaplain get pissed off before," Larry said. "Man, what did
you do? What did you say to get his panties in such a wad? He's really
steamed!"
"I wish I knew," Charlie said wistfully. "All I did was ask him for a Bible."
"Well do yourself a favor and don't ask him for anything else. Man, he's
pissed! An' chaplain or not, he's a captain! Ya don't wanna piss off captains,
no matter who they are. You best just keep away from him, which shouldn't be
much of a problem. He don't mess with this floor much, there ain't anyone here
interested in the product he's selling."
"Until now," Charlie said. "Anyway, d'you suppose we got time to get
registered for school before supper time?"
"I don't see why not. But what's the hurry? We got till next Monday."
"No reason to put it off either, Larry. Now come on!"
Andy and Billy were spending more and more time together. They worked together
all day, each teaching the other some aspect of farming in North Carolina. Not
that Andy even tried to pretend he was an expert, but he did know the Conner
farm, at least as it used to be, and he'd learned a lot while Charlie was in
the hospital. But now Karen was starting to get concerned. More and more often
after their work was done and Andy had made a reasonable attempt at homework,
the pair would hop in one of their trucks and disappear for two or three
hours, sometimes much more. Karen was pretty sure they were going to
Wilmington, and sometimes Raleigh, but she had no idea what they were up to.
Were they chasing girls? Did they perhaps have girl friends? Were they up to
some sort of mischief?
Who were they meeting, if anyone? What were they doing all that time? Were
they drinking? Perhaps into drugs? Neither Karen nor Dennis had ever so much
as smelled alcohol on either of them, but they knew beyond any shadow of a
doubt that Billy did take the odd drink.
Dennis tried to convince her that she was being paranoid, to which she replied
"What do you expect, after what happened to Charlie?"
"You aren't beginning to think he did all those things, are you?"
"Of course not, Dennis! But if we'd only known where he was, what he was doing
those nights he disappeared, maybe we'd have had more of a defense."
"If only this, if only that. If we'd done this, if we'd known that. The point
is we didn't! But Andy's over eighteen now, and Billy certainly is, so there's
very little we can do even if we wanted to. And they certainly don't seem
anxious to tell us what they're up to."
What the two friends were doing, was roaming the inner city, trying to find
people who had known Garth. They were still convinced that Garth had set them
up, regardless of the fact that Charlie refused to believe it. "You didn't see
his face," he had stated adamantly. "He told me to go get 'em, that I was
gonna be great someday. And his face... I mean, he was almost crying. It was
like he knew we'd never see each other again. I guess I knew it then too, but
I didn't know what he had planned. I think he was sorry for all that had
happened, but he just thought it was too late. Yeah, I think someone set me
up, but it wasn't Garth."
Still, Billy argued, if they knew more about Garth, his friends, his habits,
they might learn something that could help in an appeal. And speaking of
appeals, that was another thing that wasn't going well at all. When he first
took the case, Mark Stevens had been optimistic. The case was so full of holes
and errors, he'd said, that no appeals court in the land would turn him down.
But as time went on, he began to seem much less sure of himself. He kept
delaying the final appeal process, stating each time that it was far easier to
knock down an accusation before the verdict than after. Yes, he'd said, errors
had been made; but he needed hard evidence; evidence that there was some sort
of conspiracy, or comedy of errors, something besides a simple claim that
Charlie hadn't got a fair trial.
Billy was working hard, trying to use his connections in Texas to make some
political contacts in Raleigh that might help. He had been in touch with
faculty members at A&M;, who had arranged for him to meet some of their
colleagues at NC State. Some of their mysterious visits had been to meet
someone who could possibly be an ally when the time came. He wanted to get the
attention of someone very high up in the state government; someone who might
see a political opportunity, even if he didn't care a flip about a kid in
prison for a crime he didn't commit. So he and Andy were taking their time,
trying not to jump to conclusions or go off half-cocked. They were being very
careful who they told what. They knew there was a conspiracy, and they trusted
no one. They didn't suspect Karen and Dennis of any wrongdoing, but they did
know that anything they knew they would tell to Mark, and more and more the
boys were doubting him. But progress was slow and information scarce.
It was the morning after one of their trips to Wilmington in late October.
They had not got home until after 2 AM, then they'd had to get up at five. Now
they were in the machinery shed working on one of the big tractors. Again they
were having hydraulic problems. This tractor had been down most of the summer
with first one hydraulic breakdown, then another. Dennis was starting to
threaten the John Deere company, saying that he had two identical tractors,
one of which absolutely never broke down, the other was constantly breaking.
To Dennis it was obvious he had a lemon and he wanted it replaced.
"Please don't bang so hard," Billy pleaded. "I got the worst headache I've
ever had in my freakin' life!"
"I know what you mean," Andy agreed. "We just gotta get more sleep. These
hours are killing me. But I really don't have a headache, I'm just tired."
"You're lucky. My head is achin' so damned bad my hair hurts."
"Your what?" Andy questioned emphatically as he stood up, dropping the wrench
he was holding.
"My hair. I said..."
"I heard you! Hair! That's it! HAIR!"
"Yeah, hair. That's what I said. It's just an express..."
"Not yours! Charlie's! Charlie's hair! That's it! That's the freakin' clue
we're missing!"
Billy eyed his buddy curiously. "I'm sorry, Andy," he said, "but I don't have
the slightest idea what you're talking about. I guess my brain is still not
really in gear, cause I can't..."
"Charlie's hair! Those store clerks identified a picture of Charlie with long
hair. But when he was supposed to have pulled those robberies, he had no hair!
He had just got out of the hospital and he was freakin' bald!"
"Andy!" Billy said, "are you sure? I mean, could you be mistaken about
dates..."
"I was there, Billy! Jeez, you think I could forget a thing like that? They
came so close to killin' him! Of course I'm sure!"
"Well then c'mon, lets call Mark Stevens. Let's get Charlie out of jail!"
"Mark? You think that's a good idea? He hasn't been much help so far."
"What choice do we have? He's still Charlie's attorney whether we like it or
not. We've got to trust him, Andy, it's all we've got."
Next: XXX Andy's Revelation
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Some commentary and historical facts on Byzantine eunuchs, such as
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Parts of
Theophylaktos of Ohrid’s
The Defence of Eunuchs with comments.
* comments denoted with “*”
The author is a bishop who wrote this text in the early 12th
century. It
was written as a gift for his brother, a eunuch who was a cleric at
Hagia
Sophia.
*This places us in the Byzantine Era, the 1100’s. Decline had
begun.
This text is offered to my brother a eunuch, who is upset about
those
things that are openly said about eunuchs. It will silence those
who, in
general, slander eunuchism, say that it is an institution that
engenders
vice. It will examine carefully the evil and virtue present in each
man and
show that eunuchism clearly is not the cause of evil but of a
conscious
choice, whether for the uncastrated or for eunuchs, so that when
evil is
produced in the latter it is less and not as powerful. It will cite
as yet
unwritten evidence for the clear facts regarding appearances in
each case.
In like manner it will do something bold and discuss the sexual
vigor of
eunuchs and the charge that they have meddled in state affairs
beyond what
is lawful.
*There seem to be different views on this. One is that eunuchs of
the era who kept their penises, still had sexual desire and that
castration didn’t always
eliminate this. Age was obviously a factor. The other opinion was
that
eunuchs had little to no sex drive, and since sex wasn’t a concern
for them,
they amused themselves by pursuing political power and attaining
wealth.
According to most sources, white Byzantine eunuchs lost only their
testicles,
with the black eunuchs who held servile posts being totalled
nullified. It is
interesting to note that much later on, the Ottomans claimed to
have discovered
the use of nullified black eunuchs from the Byzantine Christians.
So they say.
I found for you an unrewarded advocate for eunuchism. I had gone
to Thessalonika when the emperor was there. Two people were
intelligently discussing eunuchism and I heard enough of their
conversation to retell it for you. The one criticized the other,
a eunuch, because he (the eunuch) had allowed his nephew to be
castrated, an action opposed by the Creator, who thought man
better the way he had made him, and had (that is the eunuch, in
supporting the castration) offended the laws of gods and men and
broken the law of Moses, who would not allow those born with
deformed enitals or eunuchs to be a part of the church of
Christ, and had (that is the eunuch) broken the laws of the
apostles and the canons of the church fathers and the civil law
of Justinian which goes back to the oldest emperors who forbade
the removal of testicles within the Roman Empire. He (the first
of the two in the discussion, the one who opposes castration)
also offered the opinion that it would spoil the character of the
child, making him morally weak, a person who would easily yield
to passions, both many and great. He said, for the greed and
avarice which exist in such persons and the miserliness and
totally unsociable behavior, the thorny growth of licentiousness,
the ambition, the envy, the love of petty quarrelling, the deceit
and the bad disposition, the irritation at trifles, the
irascibility, by God, how they rule the hearts of eunuchs like
fortresses.
*So what our Bishop is overhearing is a chat between a man and
a eunuch. The eunuch has arranged for his nephew, a minor boy,
to be castrated. This is not uncommon for the time period.
Families
often decided the careers of their children, with the children
having
little to no say in the matter. It was also customary and more
common
for the Mothers’ brothers to oversee the religious upbringing and
some
of the professional prospects of their nephews. Basically, if the
maternal
uncle(s) was/were eunuch(s), then chances were that some of the
nephews were
going to wind up as eunuchs as well. We also read that the man is
debating
the pros and cons of castration with the eunuch while the little
eunuch is
there listening to them discuss this.
*Two examples from the book A HISTORY OF PRIVATE LIFE FROM PAGAN
ROME
TO BYZANTIUM are interesting, and apply to this case somewhat. One
of
the more high profile eunuchs of the time, John the Orphanotropus,
was
a very sly eunuch official who succeeded in putting not only a
brother
but later a nephew on the imperial throne of Byzantium. The
Empress Zoe,
in fact, knocked off her first husband and married John’s brother
who
became Michael IV. She also adopted John’s other nephew, who later
became Michael V. John the eunuch had several siblings, but it is
an
interesting sidelight that there appears to be some avarice between
he
and Zoe and one wonders when John was castrated. It is also
interesting
to note that John was the firstborn son – yet he was still
castrated. I
have not yet found a source on John’s castration, as to time or
reason.
I can only assume it was a political ploy and a career choice made
by
his family. If anyone knows, please email me.
*Another example is of Nicephorus of Melitus, who in the 9th
century was
a child while Romanus I was in office. Nicephorus later became a
high
ranking church official, thanks to his mother’s attention to his
early
education and choice of career FOR him. PRIVATE LIFE states that
his
mother dressed him in unusually long shirts while he was a baby and
later
accompanied him to school to see to his well-being. It is not
stated at
what time Nicephorus was castrated, only that it took place “at an
early age
for the sake of his career.” This also ties in with the
aforementioned
young eunuch and his uncle, upon whose conversation we are
expanding here.
Technically, the laws forbid castration except for medical reasons,
but this
does not seem to have slowed the practice much, if any. In keeping
with the
train of thought as to purity, castration taking place well before
the onset
of puberty is most likely. PRIVATE LIFE also mentions, however,
that Nicephorus
went to live with relatives/friends in the city before his mother
could also
make the trip. So the boy had a bit of time away from her. It is
probably
safe to assume that the boy was already a eunuch when he arrived in
the city.
There is also another kind of eunuch, which the theater
honors, and is worthy the same notice, who warbles and trills.
These, an evil act, have brought pornographic songs and pleasure
seeking bubblings (lyrics, perhaps?) into the church service.
*Here we get a reference to what would soon run amok in Italy –
castrated singers. Obviously opera of the time and theatre was
considered as we might view an NC-17 rated movie nowadays.
So saying he left off for a moment, showing in his manner that he
would
like to continue the conversation. The eunuch gently smiled, for he
was the
most agreeable of men, and was very well educated, and, a living
reproach
to these charges, said …
*Seems like a nice fellow – of course he doesn’t have the
testosterone
running through his system either. He probably also felt that his
little
nephew needed to hear more.
If I, at least in your opinion, am at variance with the Creator,
why isn’t he also in this category who has elected to remain
celibate and guard his condition with God's help. A part of
marriage is the procreation which results from it. Therefore if
the presence of genitals are not required to fulfill this
function, does it not oppose the logic of the supposition and fly
in the face of the power of reason if a man who has decided not
to procreate children has gotten rid of reproductive organs that
he doesn’t need anyway?
*So what the eunuch is saying here is that if you don’t plan on
children, why keep the equipment for making them ? There are also
several Biblical eunuchs, Daniel being the foremost to come to mind;
however, there is some argument as to whether Daniel and his friends
were actually made into eunuchs or simply cared for BY the eunuchs.
In his book SEXY ORIGINS & INTIMATE THINGS, Charles Panatti tends to
believe from his research that Daniel & Co. were indeed nullo’d
eunuchs.
So if Daniel and Co. were indeed eunuchs and God didn’t like
eunuchs,
then why would he have given Daniel such insight AND saved his 3
friends from the furnace ?
Therefore it completely follows that it
is not necessary to blame a castrated man for his condition.
*It might or might not have been his own idea. As we read in
PRIVATE LIFE, many a boy or young man had no choice. His family
made it for him. Career changes were uncommon, but not unheard of.
Take for example the case of Simeon the New Theologian as he came
to be known. This boy, Nicetas, started off coming from a good
prov-
incial family, who had him castrated young and planned on him
having
a career in politics. Nicetas (another of those common names), at
some time in adolescence, renounced this choice of career and was
taken in by the monk Simeon the Studion. The latter took the young
eunuch in, raised him to be a monk instead, and in doing so made
sure
that Nicetas became one of the paramount figures of Byzantine
mysticism.
Regarding the frighteningly misleading information contained in
the laws, and above all the law of Moses, I marvel that you, as
good a person as you are, can accuse me of transgressing the
Moseic laws in this matter but not all those laws which charity
has abolished and fulfilled. By, my dear, the words of the law
tell us what is in the law. But we must both perceive the spirit
and shadow of things which will come to us, not just superficial
appearances but what is written within. Do not choose the dead
word (of the law) but rather that which is made joyful by the
living spirit. Examine the bread of the law placed on the table
before you, interpreting the law in a way worthy of the eunuch.
Didn't God accord the eunuch honor as is recorded in Isaiah? And
what about the prophet Daniel? (In the Byzantine world Daniel and
his three companions were assumed to be eunuchs). And what about
Nehemias? And after him who was Abdemelech? Would you cut them
off from the community of Christ? For they are neither barren nor
fruitless in God’s sight and actions, and also have descendants
and family in Jerusalem. Of course they don't have descendants if
you are talking about the earthly Jerusalem where men engender
children for love, but it is another matter if you mean the
heavenly, resplendent Jerusalem into which no one can enter who
is disabled regarding the power of the seeds of reason that is
within us, seeds which give us a natural disposition to do good,
the heavenly Jerusalem where the eunuch's condition is superior
to that of the sons and daughters of the faithful. None of us,
you, me, others, would wish that a virtuous man who is a eunuch
should be expelled from the company of the faithful. The Hebrews
condemn the body. They mark out the boundaries of goodness in
terms of abundant fertility. Given the way I have presented my
case, I think you would agree with me.
*Our conversational eunuch seems to agree with Panatti and myself.
I honor and venerate the laws of the apostles and the patriarchal
canons since they are living laws, but I freely tell you that I
will not be bound by them. Regarding those who come to manhood,
and, having mutilated themselves so as to entirely be a eunuch
(there are adult men in this society who had surgeons castrate
them - and this may have been as simple a surgery as a sort of
vasectomy - as a contraceptive measure. There were also men who
had their left testicle removed because they believed that the
seed from the left testicle produced female offspring (that is
the bad and unlucky side, after all) and the seed from the right
testicle produced male offspring) from the moment of the act they
are in danger of death and those who do this to them (that is the
surgeons) are in danger of becoming their murderers. (Most
ecclesiastical and sources consider adult castration to be a kind
of murder of the self, yet the castration of children is
acceptable.
*This is an interesting sidelight. One “urban legend” of the Era
is of a man named Metrios, who had no sons and was finally rewarded
by God late in life with a son. The first thing Metrios did was
have
the boy castrated and schooled at Court so that he might rise to
high
office, which he later did. So were both father and son rewarded.
The connotation here is not to the danger of the
surgery, but to the destruction of mature masculinity.) If you
know someone from among us who has done such a thing, don't hold
your tongue but express your displeasure against our mutilation.
(That is, it is acceptable to criticize a eunuch who has had
himself castrated as an adult.)
*This is a bit confusing. I think the eunuch here is driving at the
fact that it is ok to “flame” a grown eunuch, but leave the little
ones
alone in the matter ?
But if the agent of his mutilation is far from him, then leave
off
your nasty remarks about him. If you say that the act of removing
testicles is forbidden in church law, I have this reply for you.
There are those, they say, who undergo castration as young men in
order
to seduce women. These are heaped in sin and pleasure seeking if
they think that they can thus advance in society because they
have been castrated at the harshest age, when they are in danger
from the surgery, just to serve their own passions in safety,
turning St. Paul’s rules upside down and having women while not
having them. That is why the law calls them enemies of the
creation of God.
*This takes us back as to if John the Orphanotropus DID or didn’t
have a fling(s) with Zoe before he got her married to his younger
brother. Yes, his YOUNGER brother; John was a firstborn son, yet
still a eunuch.
They have not used their members in accordance
with the will of the Creator and not considered ejaculation the
object of coitus. They are disabled in their contact with women
even though they can please the most wanton of women. But they
expose themselves to obvious dangers, including the charge of
being their own murderers.
*Sounds like this eunuch knew of some who did indeed still have
the drive/ability to have sex with women and isn’t in high opinion
of this. Of course, he’s working his way up the clerical scale
too.
But if anyone's testicles are cut off
while still a child or an adolescent because he is worthy of so
much concern on the part of his parents who desire to preserve
his chastity and they join with him in selecting castration for
him so that no danger can befall him, how can you still show the
disapproving eye and express the bitterness that fills the church
canons?
*Nicephorus’ mother obviously was of this school of thought. Not
only the parents/family, but teachers and religious leaders as well
often recommended apt pupils for castration and even helped to
arrange it. Good report cards = castration ? Keep those grades up.
Our interpretation of the law is not false, but faithful to the
truth, long attested by conspicuous number of eunuchs in the
state and church. It is clear that the teachers of the New
Testament, the initiators and teachers of the mysteries of God
and the true bishops, had great faith and the strength that grows
out of it, with the result that they guarded their chastity and
otherwise gave no thought to the condition of the body, awaiting
the approach of the end of their time on earth. During the time
they were on earth they were struck by the front-line forces of
the devil, forces which tried to strengthen their weakness and
tempt them to stop preserving their sexual purity, purity which
is owed to the blessed of God and to those chosen as saints.
*One example of sainthood here is Ignatius, who started his life
as the crown prince of Byzantium. His father was Michael I, who
was deposed by Leo the Armenian. Leo had Nicetas, the Prince (his
name was changed later) castrated and incarcerated at a monastery.
Nicetas, later known as Ignatius, was 13-14 at the time.
The laws said that anyone mutilated in any way could not serve as
Emporer. This removed the possibility that the boy could come back
later and lay claim to his father’s throne. So Leo had the Prince
cut, sent away, his name changed to Ignatius by the monks, and the
boy became a prominent church figure who very well could have
altered
the course of the Empire in his later life. Talk about shooting
your
own foot off.
Next, so that the number of eunuchs (and here he may be using the
term simply to mean celibate men - it is often used that way,
especially in early Byzantium) in the church should not decrease
and most of all to guard lest they fall into sin, as has been
said, there were opened the gates to the institution of
eunuchism, which contributed greatly and deeply to sanctity. And
this solution indicates a thoughtful solution that most wisely
adapted to a need. I have noticed that doctors administer to
today's sick, treatments that are different from those prescribed
at an earlier age and if you ask the reason for this change they
will answer that the strength and manner of the physical life of
the body has greatly changed. In the same way the healers of the
church have changed and the methods of these healers have been
adjusted to a changing mode of living. For if it were not so, how
could it be that this very illegal act (that is, castration) is
seen by all the high churchmen but it is not mentioned. It is
considered normal that the emperor should close his eyes to this
practice, especially since it is in his interest to increase the
numbers of such men (eunuchs) since they are always "well minded"
(a play on the Greek word for eunuch) as the etymology of their
name implies. But we know that all the churchmen have not drunk
the mandrake and so do not attack the enterprise, at least, if it
makes our church pure and flawless.
*Perhaps there were those with a ‘castration racket’ going on ?
They stood to lose too much, and eunuchs were in demand ?
But, you say, the emperor Justinian abolished eunuchism and, with
a law, ended the practice. But he did so by a law of the blessed
emperor that was totally laughable, a law which the empress
Theodora advised him to pass so that eunuchs would not increase
in number or hold higher honors. After he had passed the law he
couldn't change his mind since the empress considered him less
than a slave (in other words it would have made him look stupid
in her eyes), and he even told Narses (his famous eunuch general)
that he (Narses) could not be blessed.
*This is one hell of a way to say thanks to someone like Narses
after all he did for the empire, having started life as a eunuch
slave-boy who worked his way up the hard way.
Justinian established laws
against eunuchs, but how could such written laws be honored when
people observed what was going on? It is like the web of spiders,
which comes from the name Anacharsis, which the spider weaves to
catch wasps and hornets and moths. It seems to me also that that
law was a piece of the handiwork of the cunning Tribonian who
heard from an old man that such a law had existed in certain
circumstances. (Tribonian codified older Roman law into the
Justinian Code) It was a way to slay many whom had already been
castrated. But consider the unnaturalness of this legislation. IF
castration causes death where did the palace eunuchs come from,
or the general Narses who enlarged the frontiers of the Romans?
If the danger of the operation is slight, why not forbid the
taking of drugs and the actions of doctors which sometimes cause
harm? Prove to me that eunuchs were useless to the emperor who
created this legislation (abolishing the practice), or if you
cannot, prove that the idea of the great power of eunuchs is more
than just a delusion. If you cannot do this then abolish those
laws which legislate against eunuchism. You must choose one of
the two paths. Either abolish castration and stop employing
eunuchs, or get rid of these laws and favor castration,
recognizing that it is advantageous.
*There were a LOT of eunuchs in this Era. Abolishing eunuchism
on paper was one thing; in real life it was quite another as our
eunuch observes. Even the Emporer Romanus I Lekapenos overlooked
such. His very FIRST son was born of his favorite concubine. As
soon as the little boy was old enough, Romanus – no doubt a doting
father – had the young fellow castrated so that he could not, by
law, try and take the throne in later life. The boy was named
Basil,
one of many Basils of the era. Although forcibily castrated as a
boy,
Basil went on to have a stunning political/military career and
helped
to eventually put a nephew on the throne and another in high office.
I will not accept your justification that castration is a sin,
especially since, from the moment he is made a eunuch, he is
useful for you. You claim that eunuchs have been castrated
because of a disease, a reason for castration that cannot be
condemned. (The legal penalties for those who performed
castrations were very severe - usually castration or death - but
a surgeon could legally castrate a man if it were in the
interests of his health.)
*Wouldn’t you like to hear the excuses of some of those parents who
happily put their young sons under the knife, with reasons no better
than ‘it will be for his own good’ or ‘it’s for his future career’ ?
For you don't have time to explore the
origin of eunuchs. But I don't have to accept the arguments you
have made. For an emperor cannot overlook the sins of his
subjects. When, dissembling, you overlook the manner of life that
leads to the creation of eunuchs you are doing something that, it
seems to me, neither Melitides nor Koroibos (characters known for
their stupidity) would do, making a joke of legislation and
devising a trick for us. (That is, the "for the patients own
good” argument).
*Try and make this one stick for a minor boy with intelligence,
looks, and the right parents / social contacts.
For if truly Justinian's decree had abolished
castration it would have inspired fear in doctors and all those
who castrate so that this sin would come to an end. If you are
right that those who are castrated are aliens furnished for you
from barbarian countries, first, indeed, you have to prove that
those who handle your affairs and those who handle the affairs of
this country are not the same people. Second, how can an
intelligent man, using his brain, name administrators casually to
rule barbarian nations in such a way as to not expose carrion but
to bring about the ruin of everything good? Do you think you are
getting the blessings of the Roman people? Yes, and don’t you
also entrust the palace to that worthy group of eunuchs because
they are capable of receiving instruction who and are, by nature,
gifted with freedom of thought and un-slave-like mentality? For
the stupidity and coarseness of slaves if great if you believe
the words of the tragedian who says, "The slave is nothing
compared to the free man," or the lyric muse who says, "The red
fox and the roaring lion cannot exchange cleverness." So I have
completely struck down your beliefs and shown that the law is
completely false and not as it seems. Therefore these laws should
be completely overthrown because of the rottenness of their
fabrication, recognized as unfit and having no force in the civic
state or in the church.
They should be completely overthrown.
*In other words, they’ve been caught with their fingers in the
cookie jar, so to say. The only barbarian eunuchs were the black
eunuchs, who were imported on the belief that no white Byzantine
woman would WANT to have sex with them AND that they were more
hardy and could withstand the nullification surgery better than
whites. They were also believed to be stronger and more
intimidating.
Since you have testified to the many passions of eunuchs, which
comes from their being totally crushed, reducing them to the
feminine state, I hesitate to reply to this since it is scarcely
worthy of a reply. But it is necessary that I speak openly so
that you don't think I am blaming you for having such unsound and
self-serving evidence. For you seem to be overly concerned about
the dry twigs that we eunuchs have, while ignoring all the beams
that many whole men have in their eyes. You claim that a eunuch
is small minded and, according to your testimony, weak and
feeble, like earth that is sickly, unable to support a strong
shoot. But on the other hand you charge that eunuchs are too
powerful in the state, wrongly contending to amass evil power.
You claim that eunuchs have been pirates and robbers, cutpurses
and plunderers, that they have establish themselves in the
highest political positions and roar like lion cubs and move
things along with loud cries so that they can carry off all the
meat. You say that some are niggardly and unsocial. What examples
do you have of this kind of behavior? Eunuchs take care of
widows. They nourish and educate orphans and do everything for
them in the name of philanthropy and friendship. Or would you say
that they take over the estates of orphans and slay widows and
orphans? There are men who are ambitious and filled with
ill-temper and jealousy, who shed the blood of kinsmen or family
members and have confounded all the laws in order to defeat
others using the law. When eunuchs do this you are confident in
singling them out. And I will not enumerate the violations of
virgins and women, adulteries and things too shocking to talk
about which men do. It would be shameful to tell the truth, even
as men count their victories.
*As with anything, there are good and bad ones in every group. No
doubt some of the eunuchs were bitter about having been castrated.
It is not unreasonable to believe that now and then there would be
a boy who was forced into being a eunuch – or perhaps an older teen
or young man castrated by force / punishment – who would turn evil
and seek revenge. It is hard to imagine what it would be like, if
you did NOT want to be castrated, no matter what you age, and you
were. If sex was out, and you could have no sons ( a VERY important
thing in this Era, remember ) then you might certainly turn to the
acquisition of wealth and power at ANY cost.
If you want to continue to slander us, you haven't gotten to the
worst of all. If you agree, let us examine the race of eunuchs
who are considered the lowest among the Greeks and barbarians,
whose evils surpass the height of the clouds and work a thousand
evils. (the eunuchs of the palace) …
If, as you say, all eunuchs, as a group, are evil, the argument
against us doesn’t proceed without stumbling. First, isn’t one
group worse than another? Second, what about those who have never
seen the palace, those now in the flock of the mother of the
church, I mean those in the church in Constantinople, those in
different monasteries who avoid the flesh and blood, those in
other churches, those who are an ornament to archbishoprics or
the priesthood?
*There were certainly enough of these. Remember Origen ? His
ideas were still going very strongly at this time. Eunuchs even
had their OWN convents ( term is a slam ? ) in the monasteries,
totally separate from the nuns and whole men who were priests.
Alexis I Commenenus even rewarded the admiral Stephanos and his
three ‘boys’ – for brilliant military service – to retire to a
monastery and “quit the world” as it was called. Stephanos was
a eunuch, as were his 3 “boys.”
But most are evil, says the proverb, even though
we are slandering Christianity, since most on earth are such. But
if you count the large number of eunuchs and you notice how many
of them are base (that is, bad individuals) and compare it to the
size of the whole group and you see the same thing, (as you see
in the general population) it should be apparent to you, from
these many examples, the injustices done to eunuchs. But in order
that I should not seem to you to be asking the impossible and
fleeing into the unknown, look at one or two of the eunuch
priests, from the countless available, from your churches or
mine, and understand that most of them live worthily, conforming
to priestly purity. You also have accused the singers of having
been corrupted by the theater (that is introducing popular tunes)
though I haven't been able to hear the difference between their
chant singing and that of amateurs who sing chants with regard to
how pleasing they are.
*Once again, the popularity of the priesthood and the opinion on
music / entertainment. The pages which mention Nicephorus of
Melitus
and his well-planning mother also mentions the mother of Nicephorus
of Medicion – Nicephorus seems to be as common a name as “Jack” is
nowadays. Nic. Of Medicion’s mother is commended for raising her 3
sons in a very pious manner, keeping them away from such things that
little boys delight in – such as races at the Hippodrome, the
theatre,
etc. Although PRIVATE LIFE does not mention which of the 3 boys
were
eunuchs, it is a safe bet that Nicephorus was. It also goes on to
say
that, “is is common to say that such a child behaves like an old man
and shows no interest in childhood diversions, as though this were
some sort of miracle.” Well, if one is raised in such a manner,
castrated early, brought up on ‘hell fire and damnation,’ this IS
the obvious result.
Count for me all the forces of Christ Jesus and you will find
none of them lacking in eunuchs. Among the Apostles, that is the
heralds of the Word, you note the eunuch of Queen Candaces, who
brought all Ethiopia to Christ, not because of the power of his
authority and his role as guardian and administrator of the
king's wealth, but because he was called the hands of the Holy
Spirit. among the martyrs you find an Indian who has presented
himself to Christ (a eunuch barber martyred under Maximian), and
after him Hyacinth and Protea, companions of the blessed
Eugenius, his fellow ascetics and athletes, and Thusthagades and
Azades, the friends of Sapor who started out as supporters of
earthly things and became supporters of heaven. In the time of
Licinius there is the valiant Theodore who was confirmed in the
love of Christ land whose resolution was even more celebrated
than those of his companions. And many others whom anyone can
enumerate who has the time. You can say that all these are but a
few and nothing compared to the sum total of eunuchs. But if you
compare it to the countless number of other men it is but a
raindrop in a great sea. Equally eunuchs ornament the patriarchal
throne with their teachings and profession of faith, and also
archbishop's thrones. They indeed, by their word and life,
distinguish themselves among churchmen, both as abbots and as
priests. Haven't you also seen those who are good deacons,
earning for themselves the celestial ranks? I think you also made
mention of monks, whom you don't say much about, such as they
are, and, because they are discrete, they remain hidden. One of
these is Symeon of Athens, whom we know as a leader in this city.
You know him as an old man, pleasant, agreeable, a good manager,
who commanded a group of eunuch monks who lived under strict
observance on Mt. Athos. And the state, how often it shows us
these men of such knowledge and wisdom and living the most worthy
of lives.
*It only took a few outstanding high profile eunuchs like John the
Orphanotropus to ruin it for the rest of them, though. From this
list, it appears that there was, despite the laws, a great many
castrations still taking place.
I believe that freedom from wet dreams comes to all men who have
purified themselves of carnal love and who have never been
stained by romantic attachments, involuntary and natural. We, who
enjoy this advantage, avoid the splinter which pricks the
conscience, so that for you, indeed, even if the mind persuades
you not to fall into such defilement, don't believe anything
(lacuna) which is why right vaunts itself, but it cannot fail to
sting the conscience and most of all if you allow yourself to be
persuaded by the words of the great Basil. (St. Basil hated
eunuchs) it is not against our will that we are continent, indeed
our goodness is not repaid, even as I hear many saying, but our
chastity comes from our own choice, which is aided, of course, by
the condition of our bodies and thus we are repaid. And I can
personally testify to those who say that many eunuchs act
unchastely that among eunuchs there are also those who act
soberly and keep themselves pure of their own choice. Do you want
me to say more?
*This pretty much tells us that our eunuch was very probably
castrated
at a young age and raised in a very pious manner. In following with
custom, it is not surprising that he had arranged the castration of
his young nephew and was responsible for the young eunuch’s
upbringing
and professional instruction here.
"That is enough," the other said, "but you haven't persuaded me to
become a eunuch this afternoon."
I replied, "But to an extent you have decided to agree with me. I
will not conclude this discussion of eunuchism without saying
that it is not possible to practice self-control in any other
way. Celibacy is possible, with many struggles and rigorous
tortures which very rarely, according to those who have reported
this to me, is found among the priests. I have shown the matter
to be blameless, when it happens, and I silence those who want to
cast it down completely because they are not worthy. For to an
impartial judge those who insult the eunuchs do so boldly and
without examination, insulting them either through lust or envy.
*Going back to Nicephorus of Melitus, eventually bishop and eunuch,
we find an intersting aside in PRIVATE LIFE on this belief : “Male
sexual desire also received attention from the doctors because of
the
need to suppress it for ascetic purposes. This obstacle in the way
of any man seeking the holy life had always been a theme of
biography.
Our Nicephorus developed this theme in order to justify the presence
in one particular biography of a person who had been castrated in
his
youth. The man’s purity was such that he never allowed himself to
be
touched or even looked at by members of his own family … “ The
writer
goes on to discuss carnal lusts and overcoming them, and how hard
it is.
In closing, he states that, “I hope that readers will not protest
that
removal of the testicles was responsible for this remarkable
fortitude,
for as psychologists are well aware, the drive for carnal union is
stronger and fiercer in [eunuchs] than in those whose bodies are un-
maimed and intact.” Niceophorus went on to expand this theme, no
doubt,
since he was castrated very young, and it must have been something
that
struck great interest with him. He and this young man in the
biography
appear to have much in common.
They embraced and kissed. The eunuch took in his arms the child,
his
nephew, who had been at his side and had listened with quick
apprehension,
and hugged and kissed him, rejoicing in the discussion about the
child and
its good outcome, how the truth had been demonstrated by him. And
so they
departed.
*One can only wonder about the sort of bond that this eunuch shared
with his nephew, and the kind of hurt the boy must have felt at some
of the accusations levelled at eunuchs in general which his uncle is
fending off. It is, also, why Theophylaktos wrote this essay to
defend
his brother, a eunuch. We cannot know the kind of love they must
have
had for one another. Throughout history, however, there seem to
always
be two schools of thought on eunuchs. Even today, after some
mainstream
press, try and start a conversation like this one and see what
happens.
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Bestraft (German) | PENECTOMY | Man sollte halt nie zu viel wollen. Er hatte zwei Freundinnen gleichzeitig - als die es merken, verliert er etwas. He has two girls friends at the same time - when they notice he loses something important | Als ich mich nach dem Duschen abtrocknete fiel mein Blick im Spiegel wieder
einmal zwischen meine Beine. Zu sehen gab es da freilich nichts, wo einst mein
Pimmel war, gab es nun nur eine kleine Narbe um den Harnröhrenausgang. Meine
Gedanken gingen zurück zu der Zeit, als es noch nicht so war - und zu dem Tag,
der mir diesen Zustand bescherte......
\----------------------------------------------
Ich war seit Jahren in A. verliebt. Doch zu meinem Bedauern erwiderte sie
meine Gefühle nicht genau so, auch wenn sie etwas für mich empfand. Auch wenn
ich vom Kopf her erkannte, dass ich keine Chance hatte, ließ der Gedanke an
sie mich nicht los. Somit hatten andere Frauen wiederum bei mir keine Chance.
Es dauerte, bis ich mich endlich ganz lösen konnte und mich wieder öffnete für
andere Frauen. Kaum geschah dies, da tauchte B. wieder auf, eine Frau die ich
schon länger kannte und mochte. Wir wurden ein Paar - allerdings aus
betrieblichen Gründen so, dass es niemand merkte.
Einige Monate lief das so, dann geschah das Unglaubliche - A. merkte, dass sie
doch mehr für mich empfand. Und irgendwo tief in mir wollte ich sie immer noch
- also wurden auch wir ein Paar - ebenfalls von anderen unbemerkt.
Eine Zeit ging das gut, doch dann passierte, was passieren musste - A. und B.
erfuhren voneinander. Und statt sich gegenseitig die Augen auszukratzen
verbündeten sie sich sofort gegen mich. Ich bekam davon nichts mit bis sie
mich aufklärten und sagten ich müsse für mein Verhalten bestraft werden und
sie hätten sich auch schon was ausgedacht.
Zwei Tage später holten sie mich ab und fuhren mit mir weg, ohne mir zu sagen,
wohin es ging. Wir hielten schließlich vor einem großen Gebäude, an dem viele
Praxisschilder hingen. Als wir ausgestiegen waren, nahmen sie mich gleich
zwischen sich, damit ich nicht abhauen konnte.
Wir gingen die Treppe hoch zur Eingangstür, da fiel mein Blick auf eines der
Schilder: "Institut für Genitalveränderungen". Mir wurde heiß und kalt und
mein Pimmel wurde schlagartig steif - ich wusste sofort, dass das unser Ziel
war. Die Frauen grinsten, als sie meinen Schreck bemerkten, sagten aber
nichts.
Wir gingen rein und wurden gleich durchgelassen, als B. ihren Namen nannte.
Wir wurden in einen Untersuchungsraum geführt und allein gelassen.
"Zieh dich ruhig schon mal aus“, sagte A. lächelnd. Ich tat es und stand bald
mit pulsierendem steifen Pimmel vor den beiden.
"Guck mal, der freut sich schon“, meinte B. lachend. "Sollen wir es ihm
sagen?" A. nickte nur grinsend.
"Wir haben dir ja schon gesagt, dass wir meinen, du müsstest bestraft werden.
Wir haben uns überlegt, dass du keine Frau mehr betrügen sollst. Gleichzeitig
denken wir, dass du genug gevögelt hast und das nicht mehr können sollst. Um
beides zu erreichen, wird dir der Doktor gleich deinen Schwanz abschneiden."
Die beiden weideten sich an meinem Schock. Mein Pimmel wurde noch härter,
falls das überhaupt möglich war. Weglaufen kam nicht in Frage - die beiden
waren stark genug für mich. Also wartete ich ergeben auf mein Schicksal. Ich
musste nicht lange auf eine junge, hübsche Ärztin warten, die sich nur mit den
beiden Frauen unterhielt und mir nur befahl, mich auf den Untersuchungsstuhl
zu legen.
"Ich glaube, sie haben die beste Entscheidung getroffen“, sagte die Ärztin mit
Blick auf meinen Pimmel. "Dann wollen wir mal. Soll er noch einen Orgasmus
kriegen?" Beide schüttelten verneinend mit dem Kopf.
Zunächst wurden meine Arme und Beine mit Lederriemen festgebunden. Dann wurden
mein Penis und mein Hodensack desinfiziert. Ich wartete nun auf die
Betäubungsspritze, doch da lag ich falsch. Plötzlich hatte die Ärztin schon
ein Skalpell in der Hand - ich sollte wohl alles spüren. In dem Moment, als
ich das Skalpell sah, verschlossen mir meine beiden Frauen mit einem Knebel
den Mund.
Die Ärztin zog meinen Pimmel so weit wie möglich aus dem Körper heraus und
fing einfach an, ihn ganz unten abzuschneiden. Der Knebel verhinderte, dass
man meine Schreie hörte, aber ich wurde eh schnell ohnmächtig.
Als ich wieder klar sehen konnte, war die Wunde längst versorgt und ein
Katheter steckte in meiner Harnröhre. Min Pimmel war nirgends zu sehen.
A. und B. nahmen mich mit nach Hause und erklärten mir meine neue Rolle. Ich
war jetzt ihr Sklave, musste alles für sie tun und wenn ich Glück hatte,
durfte ich sie ab und an mal lecken.
Ich hatte meine Strafe für meinen Betrug bekommen.
* * * |
The Traitor's Son 25 | GAY, WARNING, TESTICLES, MINOR | Herewith are the next chapters of the saga of Marius, son of the traitor, Sejanus. The story is by Zelamir but has been adapted, with the author’s permission and oversight, for eunuch.org by Pueros. | THE TRAITOR’S SON
By Zelamir, adapted by Pueros
Chapter 25
Felix gestured and the four adult servants watching at the edges of the
courtyard obediently hurried off. They soon returned with two beautiful naked
boys in their firm grip.
One of the boys, Giton, was a slim 12 year-old with fair curls, whilst the
other, Nisus, was bigger, being 15, and dark haired. Both were somewhat
bruised and both were clearly very frightened.
The servants released their grasp on the boys after they had approached
Scyrax’s couch. Giton and Nisus immediately threw themselves to the ground at
their master’s feet and reverently pressed their lips against the golden
plaque inscribed with the crude phallic symbol. Their cute but seriously
endangered bare bottoms were therefore nicely exposed for viewing by the young
spectators and adults behind them.
Scyrax sat silent for a moment, staring coldly at the prostrating boys. “You
are thieves,” the fat man then declared angrily, “as you both know that your
bodies and all the service and enjoyment that can be rung from them belong to
me and yet you deliberately chose to go off together to pleasure each other
secretly. Furthermore, I was preparing Giton to sell and I would have obtained
a good price for him, as a blond 12 year-old virgin.”
“I have also not just lost the extra profit,” Scyrax continued, “from selling
a virgin. I could have additionally seriously damaged my good reputation if
you had succeeded in evading the watchful eyes of my good loyal Felix and I
had attempted to sell Giton at auction as fresh untouched flesh when he was in
fact damaged goods!”
“As thieves you deserve to be crucified or fed to the animals in the
amphitheatre,” Scyrax suggested before deliberately pausing to make the boys
worry that he might indeed send them to such an appalling fate. However, the
fat man eventually added “But, as always, I am too kind-hearted and I shall
therefore be more merciful, although in your wicked cases not too much so!”
“Giton, you will be beaten badly,” Scyrax announced, pronouncing sentence
without hearing from anyone about what precisely happened between the two boys
in the storeroom, “and shall leave this house as soon as possible to be sold
for what you can fetch as, what you are, a common little whore. Nisus, as the
elder of the pair of you and therefore someone who should have been more
responsible, you too will be flogged but even more severely. Later, when you
have recovered from the flagellation sufficiently to know and feel what is
being done to you, I shall render you incapable of offending in a similar way
again!”
The six eunuchs in the courtyard secretly rejoiced that the beautiful but
naughty Nisus would soon be turned into one of their own number. They hoped
that they could be witnesses when Scyrax used his gelding knife.
Meanwhile, Nisus immediately showed how brave and selfless he was by raising
his face from the ground and begging for mercy not for himself but for the
other younger boy. However, this display of bravado was assisted by the fact
that the youth’s distressed mind had not yet realised what Scyrax had meant
when he had promised ‘I shall render you incapable of offending in a similar
way again’.
“Master,” Nisus pleaded, “please don’t punish Giton. I tricked him into going
into the storeroom. He didn’t know what I planned. I also didn’t fuck him. I
just ripped his loincloth off and was rubbing my cock along his bumcrack
against his will until……..”
Nisus paused, apparently too ashamed to admit what he intended the conclusion
of his action to have been. He instead suggested “You can therefore still sell
Giton as a virgin for a good price, Master. I honestly didn’t enter him. He
also wasn’t a willing partner. Consequently, punish me but not him!”
In response, Scyrax did not question the pleading youth. He instead asked of
Felix “Did you hear any protests or struggles from the storeroom whilst all
this was happening?” The secretary answered “No, Sir, I just entered because I
knew that the two boys were in there and appeared to be lingering. When I
arrived, Nisus was doing what he describes but whilst masturbating Giton from
behind, and the latter appeared to be enjoying himself!”
Scyrax returned his attention to Nisus. “Your entreaty on behalf of Giton,”
the fat man now announced, “is dismissed. The young whore might not have known
what you intended when you took him into the storeroom but he certainly knew
soon enough afterwards and he did not protest or resist your actions but
instead enjoyed it. He is therefore as guilty of disobedience and theft as you
and so will still be severely punished, although not as much as you will be!”
“But I told him,” the pleading youth exclaimed in desperation, whilst
courageously continuing to display more concern for Giton than himself, “I
would kill him if he protested or resisted, Master. It’s not his……..” However,
Scyrax interrupted by suggesting “Even if what you say is true, the young
whore nevertheless put his miserable life above the duty he owes to me. He
therefore still deserves severe chastisement and that’s what he’ll now
receive. Be silent, Nisus, unless you want me to have your tongue removed as
well as well as other parts of your anatomy. You’ve already earned extra
punishment for having the impertinence to raise your head from the ground and
address me without permission!”
Nisus now finally realised in horror what Scyrax had earlier threatened in
addition to an imminent flogging. He also sensed correctly that his entreaties
on behalf of Giton were never going to succeed and that escape from their
respective fates would be impossible.
Consequently, Nisus’ chin slumped onto his chest and soon sobs could be heard.
Copious tears could also be seen dropping onto the ground.
Scyrax ignored Nisus’ descent into forlorn sobbing and instead now addressed
the younger miscreant, whilst simultaneously quietly indicating that motives
of profit superseded those of his inherent sadism, which would have liked to
see the boy even more comprehensively punished. “If I’m to remove you, Giton,
from my household as soon as possible,” the fat man declared, “I may as well
still attempt to secure as good a price for you as I can in order to try to
recoup some of my investment in you. You will still be beaten, brat, but to
aid quick recovery and disposal your back and bottom will be excused the
attentions of the whip.”
The predominance of Scyrax’s commercialism in his attitudes actually also
extended to Nisus’ proposed punishment. There were two reasons for this
phenomenon.
First, Nisus’ imminent flogging would be comprehensive. However, as delivered
by an expert, the whipping would not mark him for life.
Second, Nisus’ later castration would not reduce his market price but would
probably instead increase his value. The only reasons why Scyrax did not geld
all of his slaveboys were because the market for eunuchs was limited and fatal
infections after surgery sometimes caused losses. He preferred the purchasers
to take such risks, although he was occasionally prepared to accept the
gamble, as with the miscreant youth now, in order to present an example to the
other boys.
In Scyrax’s opinion, such an example should not just help to maintain order
amongst his current stock of boys. Household gossip should also ensure that
future arrivals became aware of the potential appalling consequences of
disobeying instructions not to indulge in sexual activity without permission.
“Fetch the staff!” Scyrax subsequently commanded of Dictys, who reluctantly
collected a sinister bloodstained wooden pole, which was thicker and longer
than a broom handle. An audible gasp of horror arose amongst the boys watching
proceedings, as all, with the exception of the newcomer, Marius, knew what
Giton was about to suffer.
The four attendant white servants also knew and, without needing a command
from Scyrax, two of them immediately stepped forward to grab Giton by the arms
and throw him roughly on his back on the sand-covered ground. They then held
the naked boy’s arms firmly above his head, despite his struggles and pleas
for mercy, whilst the other pair of eunuchs tied his ankles separately and
slightly apart to the staff.
Lifting Sulis from his lap and onto his feet, Scyrax next heaved himself from
his couch and waddled over to where Giton lay prone. On arrival, the fat man
visually checked the cord immovably binding the still pleading boy’s ankles to
the staff.
Satisfied with the efficacy of the bondage but displeased with Giton’s
entreaties, Scyrax subsequently picked up a cane from the nearby jar. Standing
slightly to one side, he then viciously lashed the implement hard and
accurately between the boy’s legs, somehow missing his flaccid penis but
striking both of his young immature testicles in the process. The 12 year-
old’s pleas were consequently immediately terminated and were replaced instead
by a vociferous scream.
“No, please stop, Master, please stop!” the still tearful Nisus took up the
entreaties in reaction, whilst jumping to his feet and running towards the
scene in a desperate and doomed attempt to help Giton. However, the black
African servant intervened by stepping forward and slamming his fist into the
boy’s face.
Nisus crashed to the floor, with blood streaming from his nose and mouth.
After witnessing the incident, Scyrax ordered his black servant to “Pick the
slut up and hold him so that he can see his little whore punished!”
The grinning black servant was happy to oblige and soon Nisus was squirming
and twisting in the eunuch’s grasp, desperate to stop Giton’s imminent
punishment. However, the struggles of the naked boy proved useless, as the
immensely strong African’s hold remained resolutely secure.
Returning his attention to Giton, whose current excruciation was made worse by
not being able to grasp his agonised balls, Scyrax commented, whilst again
raising his cane, “Your genitals are what you sinned with. Consequently,
they’re what we’re going to beat first!”
Four times Scyrax cut Giton across the balls, whilst two eunuchs happily
strained to hold the pole and the other pair the boy’s hands steady on the
paving. Throughout the process, the now copiously tearful 12 year-old’s
screams and pleas for mercy echoed around the courtyard, along with the
similarly useless entreaties still coming from Nisus, who could not escape the
black servant’s strong grasp. The youth’s despair and distress was made worse
by the sight and feel of the harsh whip that would soon comprehensively flog
him, the handle of which was still in the African’s hand.
Scyrax eventually stepped back to admire his work. The fat man saw that
Giton’s previously smooth and creamy nicely proportioned scrotum was now
vividly red, with four scarlet stripes particularly prominent.
“If I continue,” Scyrax remarked with a smirk, “I’d probably do to the whore
what I definitely will do soon to his older lover, albeit with my gelding
knife and not the cane. I suppose I’d therefore better desist and target
something else!”
What this next target was to be was quickly discovered by Giton. The boy soon
felt the first lash of Scyrax’s cane hit the vulnerable soles of his feet,
which, with the exception of his balls, represented the part of his young and
beautiful anatomy that was most susceptible to feeling intense pain.
Scyrax’s subsequent strokes were not particularly hard but they were delivered
with firm and steady accuracy. Consequently, Giton lay relatively quiet whilst
the first few were delivered but eventually the boy was screaming and
thrashing about on the ground, as the cumulative effect of the cane hitting
his soles mounted and acute excruciation again began to consume his whole
body.
The thump of the cane across Giton’s bare feet, his resultant anguished howls
of pain, the thudding of his tearstained screaming head on the marble paving,
as he writhed in agony, and the cruel laughter of the watching servants, who
were all thoroughly enjoying the spectacle, rapidly dominated the courtyard.
Meanwhile, the witnessing Marius was appalled but his lovely blue eyes could
still not refrain from watching.
Giton’s screams eventually began to weaken and his writhings became less wild.
Scyrax, whose plentiful experiences of punishing boys enabled him to recognise
when his victims’ mental functions were starting defensively to shut down,
therefore stopped his caning of the 12 year-old’s now red-raw feet.
“I think that’s enough,” Scyrax subsequently rasped, “so release the brat!”
His servants immediately complied and the boy’s arms quickly lost their firm
manual restriction and the cords binding his ankles to the pole were soon
untied.
Scyrax then look down into Giton’s tearstained and still sobbing face and
kicked the naked prone boy hard in the ribs. “Get to your feet, whore,” the
fat man simultaneously ordered, “and take your place amongst the other brats!”
Giton somehow began to obey, to be rewarded, as he literally hopped in agony
from foot to foot towards the boys who had just watched his chastisement, with
loud laughter from Scyrax and the other adults present. The pained and shamed
boy felt as though he was walking on burning coals as he proceeded and so was
very relieved when he was eventually sitting amongst his fellows, some of
whose bottoms were still hurting from their own earlier punishments.
“That’s the entree out of the way,” Scyrax next commented, whilst turning
towards Nisus, who was still in the black servant’s firm grip, “so now for the
main course.” “String the other slut up by his wrists,” the fat man
subsequently ordered of the African, “and whip him with your usual expertise,
as my arm is now a little weary!”
Two of the paler eunuch servants helped proceedings by taking the struggling
Nisus away from their darker colleague and dragged him over to where Scyrax
stood. A rope was then thrown over a beam of the courtyard pergola by one of
the others.
One end of the rope was next tied around Nisus’ slim wrists, initially
fastening them in front of his naked body. However, the twine was quickly
drawn tight so that the boy was forced to stand with his hands high above his
head, with the tips of his toes just touching the ground.
Scyrax subsequently ran his hands over Nisus’ smooth taut body, whilst saliva
dribbled from a corner of his smirking mouth. The front of his tunic also
bulged where the garment covered his crotch, clearly indicating that he was
very aroused by the prospect of what he was about to watch.
Scyrax lingered for a while when fondling Nisus’ hairless genitals. Amidst
this process, he weighed the boy’s scrotum, above which his cock had become
instinctively rigid because of the manual attentions and despite his terror
about what was now to be inflicted on him. “I’m looking forward, slut,” the
fat man commented, whilst purposefully feeling the 15 year-old’s balls, “to
extracting these soon!”
Nisus’ long and slender uncut cock had been deprived of satisfaction for
several weeks, which was the main reason why his raging teenage hormones had
tempted him to try to have sex with Giton, to whom he had secretly been
particularly attracted for a long time. Unfortunately, Felix had discovered
their furtive liaison before the older boy had gained such gratification.
For this reason and equally unfortunately, Nisus’ desperate genitals now
reacted to his master’s manual and verbal attentions by succumbing to orgasm
and exploding, soiling Scyrax’s tunic with plentiful creamy ejaculate. The
infuriated fat man, who still held the cane with which he had beaten Giton’s
soles, initially reacted by describing the boy as a “Disgusting filthy slut!”
He then followed up his comment by lashing his rod down onto the 15 year-old’s
still erect cock, which was now dribbling extraneous cum, and subsequently
launching an uppercut against his scrotum, whilst further remaking “My gelding
knife will soon cure you of your disgraceful habits!”
Scyrax furiously repeated the action with his cane on several more occasions
until weariness rather than merciful compulsion encouraged him to desist and
return to his couch to allow his black servant to take over the task of
punishing Nisus. The fat man consequently left behind a boy who was already
sobbing and in deep anguish before the African had even begun to lash him with
his harsh whip.
Before Scyrax seated himself on his couch, his attendant dark curly-haired
slaveboy had already dutifully cleaned his master’s soiled tunic with a cloth
as best he could. The fat man had also lifted his garment above his waist,
exposing a vast belly covered in a matt of dark hair, and pulled off his
loincloth, revealing a long and fat cock, which was fully erect and pressing
demandingly up against his obese stomach’s bulging overhang.
Scyrax subsequently collapsed onto his seat and reached out for Sulis.
However, on this occasion, the fat man did not lift the boy onto his lap but
pulled his pretty face down into his sweaty and smelly crotch. The 10 year-
old’s head was soon moving backwards and forwards, amidst audible licking and
sucking sounds, as the child dutifully began the obviously required chore.
Whilst Sulis compliantly licked and sucked as he had been trained to do,
Scyrax glanced and nodded at his black servant, who obediently readied his
sinister whip for action. The lash was of well-oiled plaited leather that
glistened darkly and moved in his hand like an ebony snake, coiled and ready
to strike.
The black servant carefully measured his distance and swung his whip back over
his shoulder. Moving his right foot forward so that he could bring the whole
strength of his body into play, he then, with expertise gained through vast
experience of flagellating boys, made the lash crash ferociously down across
Nisus’ bare back. Leather impacting on naked flesh simultaneously produced the
usual unmistakable cracking noise.
The lash curled round Nisus’ body, the tip cutting the tightly drawn skin of
his chest. The force of the ferocious blow also knocked the boy off his feet
and for a moment he swung suspended by his wrists as his toes instinctively
scrabbled desperately for purchase. Meanwhile, his scream was loud and shrill
and scarcely human.
The black servant subsequently plied the whip mercilessly and Nisus shrieked,
leapt and twisted under the lash’s remorselessly regular impact in a loud wild
dance of pain and suffering. Blood also began to trickle down the boy’s back
and flanks, as the scourge started to tear his skin at points revisited or
where the tip hit.
Nisus had been positioned side-on to Scyrax’s couch, so that the fat man could
watch both the back and front of the boy’s lovely contours being flogged,
which was the original intent. Such an expanse of young flesh was deemed
appropriate in order to maximise his suffering without causing permanent
damage that would seriously reduce his future market value.
Scyrax was therefore able to watch a phenomenon that was remarkably common
during beatings. “It’s amazing, isn’t it,” the fat man was consequently, on
sighting the literal development, encouraged to shout to his black servant
above the sound of the whip hitting sweet and tender boyish flesh and the
screams from the young victim, “how the cocks of many brats, especially the
older ones, become hard during a prolonged flogging, even to the point of
climax.” The clear evidence for this comment was the return to fulsome
throbbing erection of Nisus’ penis, despite, or perhaps strangely more
correctly because of, the excruciation he was suffering.
“I bet this brat orgasms again too,” Scyrax sinisterly added, “and, if he
does, give his miscreant genitals a couple of lashes from your whip.”
Unfortunately for Nisus, the fat man’s forecast subsequently proved correct,
after his black servant began to make the boy’s sublime buttocks instead of
his ravished back a target for his scourge.
Simultaneous to the fourth savage blow hitting Nisus’ bottom, the boy did not
scream but instead grunted loudly. His swinging body also arched forward at
the same time and his almost vertical erection, seemingly standing proudly
upright, erupted with more ejaculate. The semen initially flowed into the air
like the water in some of the nearby fountains before finally succumbing to
gravity and falling onto the sand covering the marble paving below.
On observing Nisus’ perverse reaction to his whipping, the black servant
needed no further command from his master to reposition himself in front of
the orgasmic boy. He also required no second order to aim his lash at the 15
year-old’s unruly genitals, where the cock was still drooling cum and had not
yet softened, and which were still red and marked from the earlier attentions
of Scyrax’s cane.
Not having whole genitals himself, the jealous black servant particularly
relished in beating boys’ sexual organs. The watching Scyrax also sadistically
did not mind perpetrating or witnessing such action.
The black servant soon crashed his lash down hard on Nisus’ cock before the
penis had had time to soften, immediately opening a bloody cut on the upper
service of the shaft. Amidst his resultant agony and screaming, the boy
immediately raised his legs into the air by bending them at the knees. This
instinctive reaction was to attempt to give, as his hands were unavailable to
undertake the duty, his deeply pained genitals some comfort and defence.
However, gravity ensured that such succour and protection could not remain in
place for long.
The black servant only had to wait for a short period before Nisus’ wearied
legs were reluctantly lowered again and the eunuch could launch his lash again
at the boy’s genitals. On this occasion, he delivered an uppercut, which
struck the undersides of his shrieking young victim’s scrotum and now flaccid
cock, once more creating a bloody cut.
Nisus could not subsequently recall actually climaxing and shooting copious
sperm onto the ground whilst under the whip. He later vaguely remembered
experiencing a strange sensation of intense ecstasy amidst much suffering, a
tiny island of acute pleasure amongst a huge ocean of abject misery. However,
he had not realised the cause until he was told, whilst still recovering
several days afterwards, by another young slave.
The black servant now returned to giving attention to Nisus’ rear. Eventually,
each time that a blow landed a light red haze was thrown up and once or twice
the eunuchs watching from nearby had to wipe the boy’s splattered blood from
their faces and tunics. For a period, the young victim’s screams even combined
into a constant high wail but, as the flogging progressed further, the volume
slowly abated until the only sound coming from him was a low groan when the
whip struck home.
Consequently, in order to enliven his young white victim, the black servant
arranged for his fellow eunuchs to throw occasional buckets of cold water over
Nisus, which they did with relish. As the fluid subsequently ran down the
boy’s body, the liquid took on a pinkish tinge by mixing with his blood.
For a time, the water also did enliven Nisus so that he could once more fully
appreciate his excruciation. The evidence for such revitalisation came from
his increased groaning and the sight of his toes scrabbling weakly at the now
wet and bloody sand below him.
Having well bloodied and marked Nisus’ back and buttocks, whilst always being
expertly careful not to inflict damage that would endure by leaving permanent
scarring, the black servant turned his attention to the rear of the boy’s
legs. By now, the 15 year-old had ceased his struggle to keep his feet, as the
hurt to his wrists resulting from his suspension was nothing in comparison to
what his torso was suffering. His body therefore simply hung limply, jerking
to and fro under the impact of the lash.
As the black servant now struck the rear of Nisus’ legs for the first time,
the watching Scyrax cried out. Moments later, Sulis hunkered back onto his
knees, with cum trickling down his chin.
Scyrax subsequently lowered his tunic to cover his sated crotch but did not
bother to reapply his loincloth whilst he watched the rear of Nisus’ legs
becoming as bloody and marked as his back and buttocks until the black servant
eventually stopped his whipping. By now, the swinging boy was utterly silent.
Buckets of cold water proved incapable of enlivening him.
“I believe, Sir,” the black servant reluctantly advised his master, “that the
slut’s inured to further suffering and so now is the time to stop the
whipping. Flogging his front would have little purpose.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” Scyrax replied, with disappointment evident in his
voice and whilst again rather clumsily standing up from his couch, “which just
shows you what a coward he is. Anyone braver would have suffered for much
longer!”
Scyrax then walked over to Nisus and taking the gently swinging boy’s chin
between his finger and thumb tipped back his drooping head, on which the eyes
were currently closed. The fat man now saw that his young slave had in his
agony bitten through his lower lip so that blood mixed with tears and nasal
mucus trickled down from his mouth.
In reaction to Scyrax’s tipping of his chin, Nisus’ eyes suddenly blinked
open. The acutely agonised boy subsequently initially stared about wildly
before focusing on his master’s cruel smirking face.
Nisus, feeling overwhelming excruciation surging through his comprehensively
flagellated body, then screamed loudly, although he was later unable to judge
whether the immense pain or the sight of his sadistic master had caused this
loud reaction. In response, Scyrax laughed, bent forward and kissed the boy
hard on his bleeding lips.
Scyrax subsequently turned to his black servant, whose muscular bare chest was
splattered with Nisus’ blood, and ordered “Dismiss the other brats back to
their dormitories without supper. They can thank the two whores we’ve just
punished for the lack of food!”
Scyrax added “Make the brats file pass Nisus on their way to the dormitories
so that they can closely confirm what happens to slaves who break my most
important rules. Then cut him down and tend his back and buttocks. When he can
walk and is fully conscious again bring him once more to me at one of my daily
gatherings with my slaveboys.”
Scyrax sinisterly added “I want Nisus to feel the knife and know fully what is
being done to him when I complete his punishment in front of the other brats!”
(To be continued)
* * * |
In Touble Now | WARNING, TG, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES | A Crossdresser is in Trouble now | ` In trouble now!! `
I have always had a fetish with woman’s clothes and the way it feels against
your smooth body, as a boy growing up in southern California I never imagined
being gay because I liked woman especially while dressed as one. I cross
dressed for several years here and there it was rush every time I went out in
fem. It was not until my mid twenties that I actually had sex with another
man, I was decked out leather mini skirt heels the whole nine yards and I must
have looked good I was asked to dance several times that’s when I hooked up
with a collage boy out for a good time.
I had a few drinks in me and so did he, after some moves on the dance floor
and some very passionate kissing we were at a table in the back and he was all
over me, now I know how some of my girl friends must have felt, I put on the
brakes and he was a real gentle man, I told him I had one small problem, I
took his hand and led it up my skirt until he had a hold of my cock, he gave
it a gentle squeeze and whispered in my ear I don’t have problem, then he
kissed me softly on the neck.
I had my hand down his pants and had a hold of his cock it was just as hard as
mine and about the same size, I slid under the table and took it in my mouth
and gave him a blow job right there in the bar, after I swallowed him all up
we straightened our clothes, I went to the ladies room and we left.
We went to the next hotel where his room was, we had just closed the door and
we were all over each other, no brakes. We made passionate love most of the
night with me on my hands and knees taking all he had up my ass, one time he
rolled around and took me in his mouth, I looked down at him and he just
smiled, I shot my load in him and then I collapsed in his arms, we slept until
noon the next day and after a shower and some more screwing we went our
separate was have never seen each other again.
Several more years passed and I found myself in a similar situation, decked
out in my leather mini and all, he had a look about him that was stunning,
this time it was in a gay bar on karaoke night, I wanted to see some more
female impersonators and how they worked. After some fun and dancing he wanted
me to go with him. I agreed and off we went.
About a 30-minute drive across town we pulled in the driveway of Beaver
Cleavers house. Around back was a staircase that went to a basement, in the
basement all kinds of stuff, leather, and chains. He asked me to strip so he
could get a better idea of what I looked like, he reached in a desk draw and
pulled out a gun, pointed it at me then fired, I was hit in the stomach with a
dart, I fell to the floor and could not move or speak, I was still awake and
could only look around.
He turned me over and chained me to the wall. I thought I was dead now he
stared at me for sometime pondering as to what to do, he even said a few times
what am going to do with you now? He got an evil smile on his face and said I
know, he left and came back about 20 minutes later with a friend the friend
had a doctors bag and a puzzled look on his face, he said our you sure? He
nodded and said just look at her, referring to me. The friend said O.K. opened
his bag and gave me an injection, my whole body went numb, I could see the
doctor working but could not move my head down to see very well. My captor saw
me tiring to look and repositioned my head so I could. The doctor had removed
my balls, and was cutting a slit on the bottom side of my cock the slice went
all the way to my but almost just a few inches before, a catheter was pushed
up inside of me and I was bandaged.
Next he took two bags of saline solution and started an I.V. one in each
nipple and started to squeeze the bags, I started growing boobs right there.
He emptied the bags and I had some huge boobs hanging from my chest, they were
heavy and felt weird, that’s when I realized I could move again then the pain
hit me and I passed out, when I woke I was burning up from the sun I was naked
and staked in the middle of the desert left for dead.
I managed to free myself before the buzzards got to me, I finally got a good
look at myself, my cock had been sliced down my pee hole all the way to my
ass, a meatonomy my balls were gone just a flap of skin that looked like a
pussy lips, and I still had boobs, just not as big now about a D cup. I Saw
some planes flying over head and started walking in the direction they were
flying, but it was to hot I climbed to the top of a rock pile and found a cave
that offered some shade, I stayed there until dark and started walking again,
this time I could see lights in the distance and headed for them.
About a four hour walk I came up on a small desert camp/town, I walked into
camp exhausted and naked, a woman there gave me a long “T” shirt to wear and
some water, I told her my story and she let me rest until morning. The next
morning I woke to bacon eggs and sausage breakfast and orange juice. The woman
asked about my sex she said I looked like a woman with a dick? She was
puzzled. I told her my whole story, now she was confused but accepted me just
the same. She explained she was part of some anti government group and chose
to live in the desert away from everything. I asked her where were we she said
Mexico about 500 miles south of the boarder, I hung my head and started to
cry, she comforted me and said I would be alright I could hang with her until
I figured out what to do.
About two weeks had passed, my boobs were just about gone between an A & B
cup, and my pussy lips were healing well, I still had a hard time peeing and
needing to sit down each time, what a pain but I was getting used to it.
Something else I noticed, I never had to shave all of body, face, arm, legs
everywhere no hair just my head and eyebrows and they had been thinned out.
Looking in a mirror I saw I still had make up on it was permanent make up.
Five years later, I found my way back home, I was given up for dead, all of my
friends stopped looking for me about four years ago, My boobs stayed a B cup
and my pussy was looking good, while in Mexico I had Suzy cut off what was
left of cock. I applied for a new social security card with a bogus birth
certificate in the name of Cindy Smith and I have started my life over in Sin
City. I work as a cocktailer in a casino and make about five hundred a night;
I never made that kind of money wearing pants. And I have a boy friend who
knows the whole story, we are to get married in December. As far as the world
is concerned I am female.
* * * |
Stanley at the Radisson (4th 'Stanley' installment) | STRAIGHT | Stanely discovers castration to be a many splendored thing whilst attending a meeting of the Men Who Fear Prospective Castration support group. | ` `
Stanley at the Radisson
(4th 'Stanley' installment)
A few days later, Stanley found himself driving to the support group Ms. van
Handler had mentioned: Men Who Fear Prospective Castration. As Stanley
approached the downtown area he was still struggling to accept the fact that
the meeting was really being held in a function room at the Radisson. For some
reason, he had had it stuck in his mind that the meeting would most likely be
held in the grimey, poorly lit backroom of an abandoned gas station at the
edge of town.
Stanley parked his car in the Radisson parking garage and headed for the
lobby. He felt very nervous and was sure that everyone knew who he was and why
he was there. Standing in the enormous lobby, he was casting his eye around
the place to get his bearings when it came to rest on one of those waist high
signs on aluminum stands that hotels put out in their lobbys to welcome
various business conferences. Stanley was somewhat shaken to see that this one
read "Radisson welcomes the Men Who Fear Prospective Castration support
group". Stanley timidly approached the registration desk and came opposite one
of the perfectly poised and pretty young girls behind the counter with the
intention of asking for directions to function room 8B. He saw that her name
tag read "Clarice". When he asked her for directions, she paused and looked
him up and down with a sly, amused expression and then responded in a loud
clear voice, "Oh, you must be looking for the meeting of the Men Who Fear
Prospective Castration support group?" Stanley blushed almost purple, hastily
looked over each shoulder to see if anyone had been listening and then
stammered "Yes, yes, that's it, that's the one." Clarice gave Stanley the
dircections, and as Stanley turned to go, he looked back over his shoulder to
see Clarice talking quietly and laughing with two of the other girls behind
the front desk as they boldly and amusedly followed him with their eyes.
Stanley's face burned with shame and he stumbled and almost fell on the heavy
carpeting of the hallway on his way to the function room. As he stumbled he
thought he heard the tinkle of a young women's laughter and looked around to
see who it was but couldn't find anyone.
Finally, Stanley came to function room 8B. He was again quite taken aback to
see a large placard posted on the door welcoming the Men Who Fear Prospective
Castration support group. "Where will it all end?" Stanley thought to himself.
Entering the room, Stanley groaned to see a huge purple banner hung over one
side of the room declaring:
The Male Sexual Re-alignment Clinic
and
Alicia J. Angelfeather
Registered Therapeutic Castratrix
welcome you to the
Men Who Fear Prospective Castration
support group
In the back of the room, two young men in Radisson staff uniforms were
finishing setting up a coffee and refreshments table. One of them nudged the
other when Stanley entered and said, just loud enough to be heard, "Hey, look,
here comes another one," and they both loudly snorted and guffawed. This drew
the attention of Ms. van Handler who stalked over to the table and demanded of
the young men, "If you don't mind, please finish up what you are doing and
then leave. If I notice anymore disrespectful behavior from you two, I'll
report you to the management!" The young men where quite abashed and shame
faced after that and quickly finished their work and left.
The room was quite full with what looked to be almost 50 men in attendance.
Stanley watched as they began to crowd around the coffee and refreshments
table. They all looked very similar to himself, they were all shy, reserved
men wearing conservative, nondescript clothing. Taking in the rest of the
room, Stanley noticed that, unlike most other function rooms he had been in,
this one had a linoneum floor. And then he noticed the concentric circle
formation the chairs were placed in, and he chuckled in recognition as he
remembered what Ms. van Handler has told him about what the men all did
together at the end of every support group meeting. Scanning the room further,
he also discovered that there was a large mop and mop bucket standing in one
of the back corners of the room. Stanley mused ruefully to himself that it
would very likely be himself who would be becoming much better aquainted with
that mop and bucket later on.
Stanley went over to the coffee and refreshments table and said hi to a couple
of the other attendees standing round it talking, holding styrofoam cups of
coffee in one hand and small, palm sized white paper plates with cookies and
pastries piled on them, on their other. After a quick survey of what was being
offerred, Stanley went away empty handed, since he didn't really care for
either coffee or sweets.
Just then, Ms. van Handler, standing in the middle of the room loudly cleared
her throat and called for everyone's attention. She then announced that it was
now time for the meeting to begin and asked everyone to come and take their
seats. She also asked Ms. Angelfeather to go and lock the big double doors to
the hallway, since they didn't want any interruptions once the meeting was
underway. The other attendees all dutifully turned and shuffled over to the
seats. Stanley was about to take a seat in the back row when Ms. van Handler
noticed him and called out to him, "Stanley, Stanley, please don't sit there,
please come down front and sit in the front row. All new members are required
to sit in the front to help everyone get bettter acquainted as quickly and
efficiently as possible. We don't want you hiding in the back now, do we? You
silly, shy little boy," she laughed. Stanley felt his face get hot and
flushed, and he did as he was told and walked with his head down, looking
neither to right or left, until he was in the center of the room where he
quietly took a seat.
"Now then, now then, gentlemen," called out Ms. van Handler.
"Soon to be ex-gentlemen, if I have anything to say about it," interrupted
Alicia Angelfeather with the girlish giggle.
"Please, Alicia, let's all try to calm down and be serious here. I know that
everyone is in very high spirits, as usual, but please let's try and contain
ourselves. We only have this room for 3 hours, and that gives only 2 and half
hours for the meeting itself, since it always takes approximately half an hour
at the end to get the neccessary mopping and cleaning up done." There were
some light giggles and snickers from the back row as she said that.
"Ahem!" said Ms. van Handler sternly, and the snickers abruptly stopped. "Now,
everybody, let's just take a moment now to look around the room. Does anyone
notice anything different?"
"Yeah," came a voice from the back, "Joe and Arnie aren't here."
"That's right, Bruce, thank you. Now, Joe and Arnie aren't here because, as
you all know, they were scheduled to make that special visit to Alicia
Angelfeather's this week, so that they could receive the kindest cut of all
from her. And how did that go, by the way, Alicia?"
"Oh, they were both very brave, and very good boys, like all your boys are,
Patricia, all the sweet little darlings who successfully graduate from your
excellent treatment program. When his time came, each one stripped off his
clothes, climbed up onto my operating table, and calmly and whole heartedly
offered up his manhood to me. And you know me, Alicia, if there's one
temptation I can't resist, then it's the temptation to employ all my special
talents and skills to their utmost in helping a willing man who's surrendered
his manhood to me. I'm sure you all know exactly what I'm talking about, he!
he!"
All the men joined in on the joke and laughed, albeit, somewhat nervously.
"Yes, indeed, he! he!," laughed Ms. van Handler, they sure do know exactly
what you mean, ha! ha! So, tell us, Alicia, how are Joe and Arnie doing now?"
"Well," responded Alicia Angelfeather, "I believe they're both spending the
week at home and are recovering very nicely. I personally called them both
this afternoon, and they told me that they had both recovered enough so that
they could take short walks around their neighborhoods, and also, that they
now only needed to take one pain pill a day. Joe even told me that he was very
pleasantly suprised at how painless it had all been and went on to say that he
had experienced greater discomfort that this when undergoing minor dental
work! He! He!"
"Isn't that wonderful, everyone?" asked Ms. van Handler, "I'm sure we all wish
Joe and Arnie all the best and a very speedy recovery, don't we?" There were a
few, somewhat half hearted, responses to this, such as "Oh yes", "Of course",
"Yes, certainly", "All the best!"
Ms. van Handler crossed her arms on her chest, tapped her foot and make a
disgruntled "Hmmmm" sound as her gaze swept disapprovingly over the group of
seated men. She then shrugged it off, and continued, "So, tell us, Alicia,
when are they scheduled to have their stitches out?"
"He! He!," laughed Ms. Angelfeather, "oh, that's one of my most favorite parts
of the procedure! They're both scheduled, both Joe and Arnie, to come in next
week. I just love hearing them gasp and whimper and watching them squirm and
wriggle on my exam table as I slowly pull out the stitches. My patients always
say that the feeling of having their stitches pulled out, down there in their
most sensitive area, tickles and pricks them in the most exquisite and intense
way, he! he! Then I inspect their little puffy pinkish/purple incision to make
sure it's healing correctly, then I give their cute, pouty little empty
scrotums one last soft little pat, and tell them they're all fixed up good now
and can go home and begin enjoying their brand new lives, he! he!"
"That's excellent news, Alicia," said Ms. van Handler, "and I know we all
enjoy Alicia's cheerful and enthusiastic approach to performing her very
central, and absolutely indespensible, duties to secure your ultimate
fulfullment at the end of your re-alignment therapy. Let's all have a big
round of applause for Alicia!"
The men responded to this with thunderous applause that stopped abruptly when
Ms. van Handler waved her hand, signaling it to stop.
Alicia Angelfeather then gave a little cheery wave to the group and went over
to sit by herself in a seat near the wall over on one side of the room.
"Now, as many of you already know," said Ms. van Handler, "Alicia and I are
two of the pioneers in the field of male sexual re-alignment. And as I have
stated on previous occasions, Alicia and I are currently in the process of
writing a book that will try and capture the state of the art of this new
discipline, at least to the degree that we have both so far perfected it in
our respective practices."
Several members of the group were seen to respond to this medical mumbo-jumbo
by allowing their eyes to glaze over, and their heads to nod sleepily down
towards their chests.
"Now wake up, you silly boys!" said Ms. van Handler, forcefully, "You all know
good and well that I wouldn't waste any of our meeting time on dry, clinical
discourse. Really, I am ashamed of you! No, what I would like to talk about
tonight, before we commence with the usual group discussion, is some ideas
I've had recently about the effect of mass media, especially TV, on male
sexual re-alignment."
"Now, these TV shows that I would like to discuss, I am sure all of you are
familiar with them," continued Ms. van Handler, "although the baby boomers
will be more familiar with them than the younger members of the group who can
only have seen them in syndication. The relevance of these shows to some of
our younger members may seem questionable at first, but I beg you to bear with
me for the time being, and I promise, everything will become clear."
"Now, to begin with, I would like to lay blame for many of our current male
sexual re-alignment problems at the door of all the inappropriately vanilla,
hetero, monogamous sitcoms such as 'The Donna Reed Show', 'Leave It To
Beaver', and others like them. They have done untold damage to generations of
men, like yourselves, by indoctrinating you into a false conception of the
role of men in our modern society."
At this, many of the drowsier men in the group seemed to sink even further
into a stupor.
"The was only one bright ray of hope that miraculously slipped through this
dismal regime of vanilla heterosexuality, was a little show called 'I Dream of
Jeannie'."
At the mention of this TV show, all the members of the group became fully
awake and keenly attentive.
Ms. van Handler laughed to see the reaction that this simple reference had
provoked. "Ha, ha, so I see you agree with me about it's relevance to your
sexuality?" she said. "'I Dream of Jeannie' was initially scorned at the time
as being a cheap 'Bewitched' knock-off, but loyal viewers soon came to realize
and appreciate the important distinctions between the competing shows. In the
show in question, Jeannie's confident, dynamic sexuality, as well as her magic
power, were shown to easily and completely dominate her stammering, nebbishy
housemate, Major Nelson. The brash and sexy way that Jeannie pronounced 'Yes,
master!', when addressing Major Nelson, told the viewer who was really in
command. And the sassy and adolescent way that Jeannie treated Major Nelson's
silly little macho man quibbles as playthings for her amusement was simply
exquisite."
As they listened to this, many men in the group, including Stanley, had begun
to get more and more fidgety and had begun frequently darting their hands
between their legs to "adjust" themselves. Ms. van Handler took note of this
with a smile of sly satisfaction.
"And, best of all, there were no matrimonial bonds between Jeannie and Major
Nelson, thus allowing her to be completely free in her exuberant, playful, and
wickedly knowing sexuality. This rendered her, in many men's fantasies, as the
ultimate and ideal femme fatale/sex kitten/castratrix."
At this point, the fidgeting and "adjusting" had reached a near fever pitch,
so Ms. van Handler had to stop and order them all to calm down and put their
hands to their sides, which they reluctantly and ashamedly did. "We don't want
you to get too carried away so early in the meeting, do we?" she asked. "After
all, we wouldn't want any 'accidents' to happen, would we? Both Alicia and I
would be very disappointed if any of you weren't able to give your 'all'
during our customary closing ceremony of shared, unanimous sexual expression.
So please make an effort to restrain yourselves, guys, ok?"
"Now where was I," Ms. van Handler said, "oh, yes, the old 'I Dream of
Jeannie' show. Yes, it's simpley amazing that such a show, such a powerfully
erotic and sexually potent show was ever allowed on the air. And as an aside,
I believe that much of the show's potency derived from the fact that so much
of it's dominance and submission theme was never explicitly stated, but only
implied. But I think most of you will agree with me that for our purposes,
that fact is really neither here nor there."
"And furthrmore," Ms. van Handler continued, " I thought that most of you
would be interested to learn that Alicia and I think so very highly of 'I
Dream of Jeannie", that we have been working on an updated version of it. A
version that is more up front and out of the closet with its's treatment of
male submissive sexuality. We are tentatively calling it 'I Cream For
Jeannie'! He! He! The premise is that Jeannie is living in a large rambling
house with five, very fit, very sexy young Marine Corps cadets. And all of
them are secretly totally sexually submissive to Jeannie. The plot of each
show will revolve around Jeannie's cunning use of one (it'll be a different
one each week) of the young marines' vanity, submissiveness and mindless
pursuit of sexual gratification to ensnare him into a situation where he comes
within a hair's breadth of losing his most precious possession, his manhood.
At the last moment, Jeannie magically appears on the scene. The marine thinks
he is saved and breathes a huge sigh of relief, but Jeannie tells him 'not so
fast, mister', and with his precious manhood still hanging precariously in the
balance, she forces him to perform the ultimate humiliation in front of her,
his own manual self gratification. Jeannie stands over him while he does this,
watching with a mixture of haughtiness and playfullness as he vigorously
strokes himself until he erupts with a near-volcanic ejaculation. After he is
done, and has hung his head in exhaustion and shame, Jeannie releases him from
danger and tells him that he has been a very good boy and that she is very
proud of him. He is safe and out of danger. Well, at least until next week,
anyway."
Many of the men in the support group, at this point, are finding it very hard
to keep still, with their hands at their sides, and away from their crotches,
and are gritting their teeth and clenching and unclenching their hands
spasmodically.
"Just to keep the audience on its toes," continues Ms. van Handler, "we've
decided to occasionally break from the usual formula for ending the show, such
that, after the marine has finished cumming, instead of releasing him, Jeannie
asks him if he is now ready to give the ultimate proof of his devotion and
adoration of her, i.e., to surrender his manhood to her, permanently, for
real. After a long pause, the marine bows his head and replies whole heartedly
in the affirmative and then steels himself to undergo the ultimate sacrifice.
But in the end, Jeannie always relents, and foregoes taking his manhood. All,
that is, except for the last show in the series. Jeannie has her favorite
marine caught in the usual manhood threatening snare, he cums volcanically,
and then offers his manhood to her, and, at the last minute, she accepts, and
the camera goes in for a close up of his face as he looks up at Jeannie in
total loving adoration as she springs the trap that will permanently bind them
together as mistress and eunuch for life."
One of the men at the back, who can no long control himself, has taken his
rigid penis out of his pants and has begun pumping it with total abandon.
"Howard! Howard!" Ms. van Handler shouts at the masturbating man, "stop that
at once! Do you hear me! Stop it, I say! If you don't stop it, you will leave
me no recourse but to..."
But it is too late, poor Howard has already started to ejaculate, squirting
his semen onto the back of the chair in front of him, and onto the shirt
sleeve of the man sitting in front of him, before dribbling the rest onto the
floor between his legs.
"Ok, Howard," says Ms. van Handler firmly, "you know what the rules are. Go
and get yourself cleaned up and then leave. From this day forth, you are no
longer my patient and can no longer receive my treatment program, nor be
allowed to attend these support group meetings."
Howard sits stunned, and tries to argue with and beg Ms. van Handler to change
her mind, but it is no use. Alicia Angelfeather gets up to unlock the door to
let him out as he morosely shuffles towards the door. "I guess I won't be
seeing you on my operating table after all, Howard," she says, "and I was so
looking forward to it, too. Oh well, good-bye, Howard, and good luck."
This incident has cast somewhat of a pall over the proceedings, but Ms. van
Handler shrugs it off and continues, animatedly, with her description of her
ideas for a 'I Cream For Jeannie' show. "The show would be an erotic sitcom.
The comedy would come in because of the unbelievable gullibility of the
marine, as, each week, he falls so thoughtlessly and uncritically into each
phase of Jeannie's cunning snare. And there would also be a lot of comedy
resulting from watching the marine's macho facade crumble as he becomes a
frantic, babbling sissy begging for his precious manhood to be spared."
"Alicia has written a treatment for the series as well as a script for the
pilot episode," continued Ms. van Handler, "and so far we've shopped it around
to the Playboy Channel and the Spice Channel, but haven't gotten any feedback
on it yet. We are also toying with the idea of using our, not inconsiderable,
personal fortunes to start our own production company and then market the
results on video via ads in magazines like 'Leg Show'. At any rate, we believe
such a show would not only be entertaining, and fill a, at present, mostly
empty, niche in the adult entertainment market, but it would also be
furthering the cause of helping many man realize their true sexual potential
and alignment."
Ms. van Handler glances at her watch and exlaims, "Oh, dear, is that the time?
I really must apologize for monopolizing so much of the meeting time in
talking about my personal pet project. We had best continue on with the
discussion portion of the meeting now, so there will still be plenty time at
the end for the customary closing ceremony of shared, unanimous sexual
expression."
"Since Stanley is the new member this month, then it is appropriate that he
should get up and introduce himself," says Ms. van Handler.
Stanley got unsteadily to his feet and turned to face most of the group.
"Hello, my name is Stanley, and I'm afraid of castration." Many members
responded by called out a greeting, and other words of encouragement, to him.
The members then began to discuss their uncertainties and misgivings about
their prospective castration, and it soon progressed from being a matter of
simple apprehension to a more sophisticated acknowledgement that many of them
were less afraid of the basic fact of having it done to them than they were
shaken to discover just how much they each secretly craved and ached for it to
be done to them, especially if it were to be carried out by a sexy, confident
castratrix that they could devote their lives to adoring.
"Like me!" piped up Alicia Angelfeather, merrily. That broke the somewhat
overly serious spell and everyone relaxed and laughed easily.
Then Ms. van Handler got up and introduced a man she called Ned. "Ned," Ms.
van Handler, "is one of my many success stories. He went through the ultimate
transition about two years ago, and has been doing very well ever since. He's
here to answer any questions you may have about having 'it' done to you."
Ned was a friendly personable man who had a thin, wiry build, and was a little
on the tall side. He seemed to exude an air of quiet contentment. Members of
the group asked him a few basic question which he fielded easily. Then someone
asked him how being a eunuch had affected his sex life. Ned smiled easily and
said that, although he had known and spoken to quite a few of Patricia and
Alicia's other eunuchs, he couldn't speak for all of them. He then went on to
say that he did know that quite a few of them had renounced all sex altogether
after the sugical mod and had adopted very quiet, monkish lives. As for
himself, he had had a very active sex live before his 'transition', and he
continued to enjoy a very active sex life now, although there were certainly
many things about it that had had to change.
This statement confused many members of the group and they asked Ned to please
clarify what he meant by saying that he still had a very active sex life. Ned
laughed and said that just because he could no longer use his penis for sexual
penetration, didn't mean that he couldn't provide partners with sexual
satisfaction.
Ned laughed again at the consternation and bewilderment that this statement
caused his listeners. "Ok, ok," he said, "I'll quit beating around the bush.
I'll be perfectly frank with you. I'm part of a small group of sex workers
that cater to the small, but thriving, pay-for-play eunuch niche. You'd be
surprised how many men and women are actually very turned on by the idea of
having sex with eunuchs. Now hold on, I can see you shaking your heads, but I
kid you not, I'm totally serious about this. I know, for one thing, that you
won't be at all surprised to find out that the sex worker group I belong to
was founded and organized by our very own Patricia and Alicia. Yes, that's
right. It's an outcall service that depends mostly on word of mouth referals,
but we have also been taking out a small ad in the local adult free press and
also discreetly on a couple of sites on the internet. We're called, 'Eunuchs R
Us'. Yeah, yeah, I know it's a tacky name, but it's effective and it serves a
purpose."
"Just as an example," continued Ned, "last week I had a gig as a sex slave at
a kinky yuppie sex party. When I got to the sprawling ranch style home it was
being held at, there were Beemers and Benzes parked all up and down the street
and on the lawn. When I came in the front door, the hostess, who was a total
knockout and was wearing the skimpiest thong bikini I've ever seen, gave me a
pair of knee pads and a rubber pig mask. Then she told me to strip and put
them on, and then to wander around the party on all fours making pig noises. I
was a little surprised, but not really that much, because I've been asked to
do much kinkier things in my time, believe me! So I did as I was told and soon
a woman sitting on a couch I was passing pulled me to one side, lifted her
skirt to show she wasn't wearing any panties, and instructed me to start
pleasuring her with my mouth and tongue. It was while I was doing that that I
felt a man come up behind me and start lubricating my butthole. Well, the next
thing you know, he had his big hard cock rammed all the way up me and was
pounding away at a good, steady pace. By 5 o'clock the next morning I was
exhausted and had curled up under the piano, my jaw was aching and my butthole
was buzzing from all the attention. I made a good chunk of change at that
party, I can tell you, and I'd also be lying to you if I told you I didn't
enjoy a good deal of the sex, as well."
Well this certainly gave all the men in the group something to think about. So
when Ned announced that he had to go, everyone thanked him for coming and
Alicia Angelfeather got up to unlock the door to let him out.
Finally, all the official business of the meeting had beent taken care off and
the time had come for everybody's favorite part of the evening: the customary
closing ceremony of shared, unanimous sexual expression. Alicia Angelfeather
set up the video camera on a tripod to record the event, and then joined Ms.
van Handler in the middle of the group. First, they instructed everyone to
strip. Then they told everyone to ignore what any of the other group members
were doing, and that they, Ms. van Handler and Alicia, were now their leaders,
and to look only at them. With their leaders' encouragement, soon all 50 men
were sporting big strong erections and were slowly jacking them according to
the rhythm set by their leaders. Stanley had been apprehensive about joining
in because he hadn't been naked in the same room with another man since junior
high school gym class, but when he started to focus only on the leaders, he
soon forgot where he was, and got totally caught up in manually stimulating
himself for his lovely leaders.
When the leaders had judged that the men had all attained the same state of
arousal, they increased the rhythm of the jacking, and very carefully
monitored and orchestrated each of the men so that very soon they were all
cumming at the same time. Stanley felt so exhilarated to be totally relaxed
and aroused and to be doing such a personal, private thing in such a public
fashion. After they were all done, the air of the room took on a thick, musky,
pungent smell.
As everyone got up to put their clothes on, Alicia Angelfeather called for
everyone's attention. "Ok fellas, listen up, you'll notice on your way out
that there is a large cardboard box next to the door. In it are special
"Castration Orientation" paks that we've had specially made up. If anyone
hasn't already taken one, please take one today. They contain a small brochure
pamplet and a short instructional video on what to expect when it comes time
for me to castrate you. I hope you'll enjoy watching it as much as I enjoyed
making it, he! he! But seriously guys, please remember that it is absolutely
essential for the success of your treatement program that you never indulge in
onanistic activities outside the careful supervision of the clinic
environment. So please try and control yourself while watching the video, ok?
He! He!"
As everyone was shuffling out the door, Stanley went and got one of the
"Castration Orientation" paks and put it with his things. Then Ms. van Handler
came over and congratulated Stanley on how well he had done during his first
support group. Then she went on to remind him that since he was the newest
member, it was his job to mop up all the jism. She pointed out the mop and mop
bucket and also a smaller bucket with a sponge in it. The smaller bucket and
sponge were for cleaning the black plastic and aluminum stacking chairs. "Now
be careful to inspect each chair closely," she said, "check the backs, seats
and legs for drips, splashes and drizzles. Then, when you've cleared all the
chairs away, mop up all those gooey gloppy puddles on the floor, he! he! And
remember you only have half an hour to get it all done, so don't dawdle! He!
He!"
Then Ms. van Handler and Alicia Angelfeather got ready to leave together. As
they were going out the door, Ms. van Handler waved good-bye to Stanley and
said "See you next week at your next appointment, Stanley! Bye!"
As Stanley was rushing to clean each of the stacking chairs, he heard
snickering coming from the door. He turned to see the two young men who had
been there earlier setting up the refreshment table. Now, they were both
peering at him around the corner of one side of the hall door, pointing and
snickering. Stanley sighed and looked down at the floor. He decided it would
be best just to try and ignore them, and went back to cleaning the chairs.
* * * * *
Later that evening, Stanley finally got home and collapsed on his bed from
exhaustion. And it wasn't until the next day after work that he had the
opportunity to watch the "Castration Orientation" video.
Mith much trembling and trepidation, he slipped it into his VCR. The first
thing he saw was Alicia Angelfeather sitting primly at her desk, beaming
warmly and cheerfully at the camera. "Hello," she says, "and welcome. My name
is Alicia J. Angelfeather, and I am a Registered Therapeutic Castratrix. If
you are watcing this video, I assume that it is because you are currently
undergoing male sexual re-alignment under the care of my friend and colleague,
Patricia van Handler. As I am sure you are already aware, it is a totally
natural and organic consequence of your sexual re-alignment treatment program
that you will ultimately need to surrender dominion and ownership of your
sexuality to Patricia and myself and this means that you will be letting me
castrate you. I hope that you will soon come to see this step as the wise and
positive benefit it is, and that you will whole heartedly embrace this
important lifestyle choice."
"And now for a little history about myself," Ms. Angelfeather went on to say,
"I first became interested in castration at an early age, while working on my
mother's farm. And so, when it came time to choose a career path, it was an
easy choice to enroll in my state university's Registered Therapeutic
Castratrix program. It was while I was studying at school that I met, and was
befriended by, Patricia van Handler. This was a real turning point in my life.
She was the first person to start to fully develop the concept of male sexual
re-alignment, and to vastly broaden the scope of therapeutic castration. Up
unitl I met Patricia, therapeutic castration was only applied in certain
extreme and isolated cases, such as when a man was suffering from being
acutely oversexed, or converseley, was acutely undersexed. Patricia's new
theories changed all that. Patricia developed a sexuality test that showed
conclusively that virtually all single men, and a high proportion of married
men as well, could greatly benefit from sexual re-alignment, and ultimately,
castration as well."
"So, when we graduated," continued Ms. Angelfeather, "it was only natural that
Patricia and I set up practices close by to each other, since our skills so
neatly dovetailed with each other. That was nearly 10 years ago, and it's been
a source of great pride and pleasure to me to have castrated over 4,000 sweet
little darling men since then!"
"But, for now," Ms. Angelfeather continued, "I believe it is paramount that
you and I establish a warm, trusting, and open relationship, so that you will
feel totally free to ask me any question you may have about therapeutic
castration. This can best be accomplished by making an appointment for a free
consultation with me. I am certain that once we really get to know each other,
you won't hesitate to allow me to provide complete coverage to you with
respect to all your future castration needs."
At this point, Stanley began to reach into his trouser pockers and
unconsciously start playing 'pocket pool' with his straining cock.
"Now, for my favorite part! So get ready," Ms. Angelfeather said with a
devilish smile and a twinkle in her eye, "the time has now come for me to show
you a real castration!"
Stanley clenched his teeth and squeezed his hands into fists at his sides,
preparing for a scene of startling horror and carnage. But instead, he was
very pleasantly surprised at how natural and informal it was. It started by
showing a man, naked from the waist down, lying on a standard issue exam table
with his feet up in stirrups.
The sequence began with Ms. Angelfeather stating that her patient had already
been given local anesthesia. Then she began joking around and saying how much
she likes to savor the moment, to stand back and drink in the sight of a
tight, wrinkly, freshly shaven scrotum offering itself up to her. She then
called attention to the man's scrotum, saying what a nice big pair he had, and
then laughed her special little mischievous giggle. "He's got a nice big pair,
alright," she laughed, "but we're going to see about that, because I plan to
have my wicked way him, and in just a few minutes, it won't be him that has
that nice big pair. Instead, it'll be me that has 'em! He! He!" And suiting
her actions to her words, she leaned forward with her scalpel and, in a matter
of a couple minutes, had opened the man's scrotum, clipped off his testicles,
and was busily sewing him back up. And it was all done with hardly a drop of
blood being spilt.
After she'd finished sewing the man's scrotum up, she turned to the camera and
said with a big, toothy grin, "Now, that wasn't so bad, was it? So remember,
I'm very much looking forward to seeing you up on my table, too, because I'll
bet you've got a nice big pair, too! So, until then, see you soon! He! He!"
The tape ended and began to automatically rewind.
Buckling under the pressure of his intense sexual need, and giving up any
pretense of self restraint, Stanley let out a loud groan, yanked off his
pants, grabbed his cock and started jacking hard and fast and was soon
spraying his jism all over his clothes, bed and carpet.
Exhausted, Stanley fell back onto his musky, sperm soiled bed clothes and fell
into a deep sleep.
* * * |
Nero 46 | WARNING, BI, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, MINOR | <P align=center>This is the forty-sixth chapter of the autobiography of Bicilus, reputedly transcribed from the original Latin parchments and passed down through time until this version was discovered, translated and adapted for publication. The chapter describes some of the happenings in Rome and the cityÆs vast Empire at the time of the annual festival of the Robigalia in the year 52 AD.</P> | `
**__**
NERO
__
By Pueros
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Chapter XLVI û Philosophers
(Lodgings of Cornutus, Subura Quarter, Rome, Dies Martis A.D. VII Kal. Mai.
DCCV A.V.C. [Tuesday, 25th April 52])
æVirtuous, brave and true, he began humbly, left 30,000,000 sesterces and
never listened to a philosopher.Æ
- the epitaph Trimalchio had composed for himself, as declared at his own feast and described in PetroniusÆ æSatyriconÆ (71)
Cornutus lived in similar humble lodgings to those shared nearby by Persius
and Quintilianus, the rooms concerned being above one of the schools he
operated on behalf of his new employer, Axenius, who had inherited
responsibility for PalaemonÆs education establishments. The modest
accommodation was, like that of P and Q, located in the plebeian Subura
quarter, east of the Forum, amongst the trade and noise of common people. The
Roman rich, especially those of the patrician class, tend to live in the more
peaceful surroundings of the nearby Palatine Hill, on which the Imperial
palace is also situated.
Unlike for the relatively impecunious Persius and Quintilianus, who still
largely relied on rather parsimonious parental financial support, CornutusÆ
humble lodgings did not reflect his remuneration, as he was exceedingly well
paid by Axenius. The unpretentiousness of the 32 year-oldÆs rooms was instead
associated with the fact that the great Julius Caesar, who was from an ancient
noble family with sadly little money, once lived in the Subura. The
increasingly renowned teacher believed that, if the area was good enough for
such a man, it was good enough for him, which was an attitude entirely in line
with his beliefs on lifestyle because he was a follower of the philosophy of
stoicism, currently fashionable amongst the learned.
CornutusÆ main pleasures were gained from developing the boys and girls in the
schools he ran on behalf of Axenius into worthy citizens, plus his association
with 23 year-old Servius, who represented his one real luxury. The latter
eunuch had been freed from slavery by Palaemon.
After Axenius had subsequently sold to Seneca the Younger the Umbrian
vineyard, inherited from Palaemon and which Servius had helped to run, the
young Germanian had appointed the 23 year-old as CornutusÆ full-time
assistant, fully knowing that the pair were lovers and would relish working
and living together. The 22 year-old did so not only out of kind consideration
but also after recognising that his fellow, slightly older, eunuch possessed
substantial management talents, as had been demonstrated at the viniculture
estate.
Servius could therefore oversee the logistical aspects of the various
elementary and secondary schools now in AxeniusÆ ownership but under the busy
CornutusÆ overall day-to-day control. This arrangement allowed his older lover
to concentrate on the educational elements, as well as organising from a
select panel of tutors, including himself, the private tutoring of
Britannicus. Meanwhile, their young Germanian employer would not be idle, as
he focused not only on the welfare and upbringing of his twin siblings, 13
year-old Anacletus and Axenia, and adopted son, 11 year-old Arius, but also on
developing his network of worthy scholarly establishments.
The late PalaemonÆs schools had always been popular amongst the equestrian
business class, who rather admired a former slave who had worked his way up to
not only being the foremost teacher in Rome but also a very wealthy person
because of his commercial acumen in other economic spheres. In the process,
they were prepared to ignore his early reputation for private immorality,
which anyway was indulged by many other rich people. However, patricians had
often been more hypocritical, especially after both of the Emperors, Tiberius
and Claudius, commented adversely about the famous tutorÆs lifestyle.
The views of the patrician class began to alter when, after the advent of
Axenius into his life, Palaemon clearly adopted greater temperance, both in
terms of alcohol and sex, and had also been appointed by Seneca the Younger to
the honoured position of tutor to the Imperial prince, Britannicus. The
renowned teacherÆs publication of a worthily famed book on grammar, plus his
innovative and popular addition of modern Latin poets and writers, such as
Virgil and Livy, into the curricula of his secondary schools, or ægrammaticiÆ,
additionally helped to alter opinions. Even the inheritance of his educational
legacy by a young, barbarian, eunuch, former slave did not change such a
revision of attitudes, especially as the increasingly admired Cornutus
actually ran the scholastic establishments.
Consequently, Axenius felt able to improve further his inherited network of
schools in Rome, as well to establish others outside the Imperial capital.
Fatefully for me, one of the new grammatici that he helped to set up was in
the port of Massilia in the province of Narbonensis in Gaul.
Servius shared CornutusÆ lodgings and bed and on this morning they were,
despite the renowned teacherÆs stoicism, enjoying an extended lie-in because
the day was a school holiday, being the annual festival of the Robigalia.
However, the supposed extra repose had earlier been notable more for hectic
sexual activity than quiescent rest.
After lusts had eventually been at least temporarily satisfied and the naked
pair instead just lay happily in each otherÆs arms, they began to engage in
pillow talk. Although Servius already knew a little about CornutusÆ
background, he now asked for more details, especially about where his older
loverÆs stoic beliefs had emanated.
"As you know," Cornutus patiently answered, "I was born in Leptis Magna in
Libya and was once a slave of Lucius Annaeus Seneca, or æSeneca the ElderÆ. My
master was the father of three sons, including young NeroÆs current tutor,
whoÆs also the uncle of our pupil, Lucanus. The Annaei family are based in
Corduba, capital of Baetia in southern Hispania, and have held a high place in
Roman literary and public life for several generations."
"Seneca the Elder," Cornutus advised, "studied in Rome during the periods of
the triumvirates and AugustusÆ early reign and subsequently divided his time
between the Imperial capital and Corduba. Like several important writers of
his era, such as Dionysius of Halicarnassus and Titus Livius, he was both a
rhetorician and historian. In old age, he also compiled from memory for his
three sons a couple of charming anthologies of declaimers uttered by himself
and various other orators in his lifetime. There are ten books of
æControversiaeÆ, or æcontroversial argumentsÆ, and five of æSuasoriaeÆ, or
ædeliberationsÆ. I should know because I was the scribe for most of them!"
"Seneca the Elder," Cornutus announced, temporarily diversifying from ServiusÆ
original question, "was unafraid to mock himself or his family in his works.
As an example, let me quote one of the deliberations in his æSuasoriaeÆ, which
I have in my memory and which recalls the time when an older relative of his
once made a fool of himself in debate."
Cornutus now selectively recited, verbatim but with deliberate verbal
jocularity, from his remembrance of his late masterÆs anecdotes: "æThere was a
person called Seneca, his name might have reached your ears, of a confused and
disorderly cast of mind, who wanted to speak in the big style. In the end,
this weakness obsessed him and made him ridiculous. He wouldnÆt have slaves
unless they were big, or silver vessels unless they were big. His madness led
him ultimately to wear shoes that were too big for him, to eat no figs except
mariscaeÆ, which as you know are large but have poor flavour, æand to have a
mistress of vast proportions. He was nicknamed Seneca GrandioÆ!" Servius could
not help but simultaneously chuckle at both the amusing content and his
loverÆs deliberately comical mode of delivery of the recitation.
"In respect of this asinine relation," Cornutus now commented, "Seneca the
Elder told of how, when he was young, the man attempted to engage in debate
about the heroic 300 Spartans who bravely but suicidally faced over 1,000,000
Persians at Thermopylae. The relative apparently stood on tip-toe to attempt
to appear bigger and, in respect of the fact that all of the other defending
Greeks had run away, announced, as if he was one of those that remained, æI
rejoice, I rejoice! Xerxes will be entirely mine!Æ In other words, he was
foolishly welcoming the fact that he would be able to fight the enemy king and
his vast hordes alone." Servius laughed again at the pompous stupidity of such
a person.
"As IÆve mentioned," Cornutus then more seriously declared, whilst returning
to the theme of ServiusÆ original question, "Seneca the Elder had three sons.
One is NeroÆs present tutor. Another, Mela, is LucanusÆ father, whilst a
third, Novatus, was adopted as a young man, purely for reasons of political
advancement, by a friend of his father, the orator, Junius Gallio, who at the
time had the benefit of being a close associate of TiberiusÆ powerful and
sinister henchman, Sejanus."
"Despite SejanusÆ subsequent fall and execution, which encouraged the Annaei
family to lie low for a while, including indulging in voluntary exile from
Rome," Cornutus informed, "NovatusÆ adoption did eventually work politically,
although undoubtedly also helped by the current influence at the Imperial
court of his brother, Seneca the Younger. Now known as æLucius Junius Gallio
AnnaeanusÆ, he has just been sent to Corinth in Greece as Governor of Achaea."
"Seneca the Younger himself," Cornutus remarked, "who was a sickly child, had
been sent as a boy to Rome to learn rhetoric but also became attracted to
philosophy, especially of an ascetic kind. Influenced by PythagorasÆ ideas, he
became a vegetarian until he took his fatherÆs advice to desist when Tiberius
launched a campaign against foreign practices that were supposedly not
becoming of Romans. This recantation was probably fortunate, as I doubt that
his frail physique, which had become even more emaciated as a result of his
meatless diet, would have survived such mealtime sacrifice for much longer!"
"Seneca the Younger," Cornutus then reported, "instead began to study stoicism
under the eloquent teacher, Attalus."
(Lodgings of Persius and Quintilianus, Subura Quarter, Rome, same time)
æYou need only possess perception and be made of flesh, and you will see that
pleasure is good.Æ
- Epicurus
18 year-old Persius and Quintilianus were also enjoying a lie-in, naked in
each otherÆs arms, whilst the plebeian world outside was as busy as ever,
regardless of the festival of the Robigalia. The people of Rome, especially
the commoners who could not afford the luxury of copious oil lamps to
illuminate their activities or a day off work, made the maximum use of
sunlight and so they would generally be going about their business from dawn.
The first work of many traders was to sort deliveries of goods received
overnight, as wagons were forbidden for safety reasons from the crowded
streets of Rome during the day. Early mornings were also the busiest time for
conscientious men of importance and patronage, who would receive petitioners
and clients. However, Persius and Quintilianus currently possessed no
responsibilities that required them to be out of bed at an early hour on a
holiday.
Persius and Quintilianus had already made love once on this bright spring
morning, with the former ignoring the supposed abhorrence of true Romans to be
the recipient of sodomy. In fact, P had indicated that he had gained immense
pleasure from his similarly aged loverÆs tickling of his prostate by spoiling
the bed-sheet with his cum, simultaneous to QÆs impregnation of his
delightfully curvaceous rear. However, the sexual appetites of the two 18
year-olds were such that further production of young sperm was inevitable
before the very handsome pair finally rose for the day.
Quintilianus presently had one arm under PersiusÆ head, with the digits of
this sleek limb gently caressing his fellow 18 year-oldÆs unfashionable, for a
young Roman gentleman, but nevertheless lovely lengthy hair. Meanwhile, QÆs
other forefinger was carefully running circles around one of the cute nipples
on PÆs smooth chest before beginning to move slowly downwards.
Quintilianus now simultaneously quietly asked Persius, who was being
encouraged in his poetry by Cornutus, making them more like close friends than
pupil and teacher, a question. Q enquired "P, are you sure that you want to
adopt stoic values as your guiding principles in life?"
Persius, not yet appreciating that Quintilianus was embarking on one of his
frequent teases, answered "I know that Cornutus takes great care not to force
his own philosophic views on his pupils, instead preferring just to
concentrate on recommending a humane approach to life. However, IÆve asked him
to tell me all about his beliefs and I like many of the aspects of the version
of stoicism he follows."
"But P," Quintilianus next asked, whilst feigning a frown and as his
forefinger moved even further downwards after recently gently circling
PersiusÆ cute navel, "stoics lead such staid lives. CanÆt you just be one in
public, whilst being with me an Epicurean pursuer of pleasure in private?"
Persius now felt his already semi-erect cock suddenly become fulsomely hard,
as the manicured nail of QuintilianusÆ forefinger finally began gently to rub
his penial shaft. Realising that Q had lured him into another tease, as a
prerequisite to further love-play, the increasingly excited P somehow managed
to splutter, in reply to his loverÆs mock query, "Ià.Ià.couldnÆtà.beà.beà.such
a hypocrite!"
"Are you sure?" Quintilianus asked. "No!" Persius responded, just before the
rosy lips of the two 18 year-olds met again, for the umpteenth time since my
beloved Gaius had encouraged them to become friends not enemies over half a
decade previously.
(Lodgings of Cornutus, Subura Quarter, Rome, same time)
æ[Corsica] is nothing but a vast desolate place [where] no shade smiles at you
after the burst of spring. No grass grows in that accursed soil. It gives
neither bread, nor water to scoop, not the slightest spark. Here, there are
only two things, the exile and the place of exile.Æ
- Seneca the Younger (referring in a letter to a friend about his enforced exile on Corsica)
"Stoicism," Cornutus advised, "was first expounded about 3¢ centuries ago by
the Greek, Zeno of Citium, in the twilight age of the Hellenic city-states. It
took its name from the æstoa poikileÆ, or æpainted colonnadeÆ, in Athens,
where the Cypriot first elucidated his beliefs. He particularly propounded the
importance of duty, in contrast to probably the philosophyÆs most significant
current rival, that of Epicurus, which centres on the pursuit of pleasure, or
at least the eradication of pain."
Cornutus then quite deliberately attempted to introduce a little further
amusement into his discourse, despite the reputation of stoics for supposedly
being humourless. With tongue clearly firmly in cheek, he announced "The
philosophy of Epicurus was, of course, followed fully, at times almost to
extreme, by my late employer, Palaemon!"
Servius, relishing in being lovingly embraced by the manly arms of the
handsome Cornutus, could not help but smile on hearing this reference to his
own late benefactor, Palaemon, and his Epicurean early liking for pursuing
pleasures, particularly of the flesh. Although the 23 year-old eunuch had
entered late into the life of the renowned and now sadly deceased teacher, he
was aware of the famous tutorÆs copious pursuit of sexual ecstasy before a
certain Axenius helped to moderate his once notorious lifestyle by becoming
the sole focus of such desires.
"Zeno," Cornutus now commented more seriously, "believed that all men, from
kings to slaves, possess a share of the Supreme Being, of whom they are one
privileged element, being superior for example to animals in being uniquely
inclined to social union. All human souls are originally born innocent and
gradually acquire knowledge from the experience of living. Consequently, all
are basically brothers and therefore all should be entitled to decent
treatment in a predestined life whose only goals are to understand and
harmonise with nature."
"Stoics believe in divine providence," Cornutus declared, "and a ælogosÆ, or
ærational principleÆ, embodied in the æpneumaÆ, or element of sacred fire. The
most important natural doctrines insist that a good life should entail
compassion and love for, and co-operation with, other humans, plus the self-
discipline to live modestly and to experience both triumph and tragedy with
equanimity. Politically, the philosophy therefore promotes the perfect state
as one comprising a single worldwide entity, governed by laws of reason and
nature."
"Early stoic writings," Cornutus informed with characteristic honesty,
"although voluminous, were extremely dull. However, they subsequently appealed
to discipline-conscious Romans because the philosophical works became
increasingly concerned with matters of practical conduct and appeared to
vindicate what many already instinctively believed."
"However," Cornutus remarked, "some pragmatic Romans, who are attracted to
ZenoÆs beliefs, discard some of the more utopian and potentially politically
dangerous ideals, such as the achievement of moral perfection throughout
society, in favour of more practically attainable notions. They, for example,
compromise about seeking a worldwide state of absolute virtue in order to be
able to justify their loyalty to the Empire and its various rulers."
"Such stoics," Cornutus reported, "argue that, although the Roman Empire is
not the perfect, humane world-state envisioned by Zeno, it represents a giant
step along the path to such a utopia and so deserves the respect and goodwill
of the population. Their emphasis is therefore more on community obligation,
so justifying honourable political advancement and current precepts in respect
of the family. Within this philosophy, thereÆs even a place for the
traditional gods, as personifications of scientific truths, with observation
of the rituals of such allegorical symbols being conducive to honest
disciplined living. For example, Jupiter represents the fiery æpneumaÆ, whilst
Neptune stands for the important element of water and Venus the significant
emotion of love."
"Seneca the Younger has always followed this pragmatic approach," Cornutus
suggested, "but nowadays apparently even more potentially hypocritically than
previously, which is why his conscience allows him to work directly for a
person like Agrippina. Although, it was my early links with him, achieved by
being a slave of his father, who kindly freed me in his will, that encouraged
me to examine and accept stoicism too as a worthy philosophy to pursue in
life, I personally prefer the purer version."
"However," Cornutus continued, "I can also understand why Seneca the Younger
has become even more pragmatic of late. He simply hated being exiled by
Claudius to Corsica, after falsely being accused by Messalina of adultery with
AgrippinaÆs younger sister, Julia Livilla, early in the reign of the present
Emperor. The ambitious and jealous vindictiveness of the then Empress
encouraged her to attack not only those she believed to be rivals but also
their most important courtiers."
"Seneca the Younger," Cornutus added, "subsequently spent 7 years languishing
on Corsica, ruminating on human frailties, observing local wildlife and
writing letters of personal consolation, or æconsolationesÆ, to friends. He
was eventually prepared to do anything to be reprieved and returned to Rome,
even working for Agrippina, who appears to be as dangerously perfidious and
scheming as her predecessor as Empress and whose son possesses one of the most
disturbing pedigrees in Rome!"
"For example," Cornutus advised, "besides the nefarious ambition exhibited by
NeroÆs mother, his father, Gnaeus Domitius Ahenobarbus, who died of dropsy
when his son was only 3, had a notorious reputation. He was not only accused
at various times of treason, incest, adultery and failure to pay debts but
also gouged another manÆs eyes out in a drunken brawl and unrepentantly ran
over and killed a child on the Appian Way in his chariot. He additionally once
worryingly confessed that any baby born to himself and Agrippina was bound to
have a detestable nature and become a public danger!"
"Nero," Cornutus announced, "was born at Antium [modern Anzio - Pueros], which
is a rather fashionable seaside resort south of Rome. The boy, through
convoluted family lines, is both the great-great-grandson and great-great-
nephew of Augustus for, although the Ahenobarbus clan had been strong
republicans and had fought both him and Julius Caesar, the first Emperor
pardoned them and married one of them to his niece. However, the PrincepsÆ
action might be considered unfortunate because the family cognomen means
æbronze beardÆ and some say that, though their beards might be of this alloy,
their hearts are of lead!"
"Agrippina, whom Seneca the Younger knows possess no scruples," Cornutus
commented, "wonÆt even allow NeroÆs tutor to instruct the boy in philosophy.
The Empress considers the subject to be a complete waste of time, although the
princeÆs teacher does try to overcome at least some of this ignorant
proscription by disguising relevant lessons in moral principles under the
topic of state-craft."
"In the process of being prepared to end his exile on Corsica in order to
serve Agrippina and Nero in such circumstances," Cornutus then declared,
"Seneca the Younger therefore sadly displayed none of the stoicÆs reputation
for being able to exhibit imperturbability in the face of misfortune!"
(Domus of Gaius Musonius Rufus, Subura Quarter, Rome, same time)
æZeus, and you other immortals, grant that this boy, who is my son,
May be as I am, pre-eminentà.Æ
- Hector in HomerÆs æIliadÆ (6.476-7)
My beloved Gaius was as usual, unless I was beside him in bed to deflect him
from such intent, up early and had washed, groomed and dressed, with the
invariable help of his devoted 10 year-old slave, Hylas. The 22 year-old man
from Volsinii was therefore ready to embark upon the various errands he had
planned for the holiday. However, his first duty lay in his new home, a small
but rather pleasant domus, rented from Axenius and located near to the
lodgings shared by his friends, Cornutus and Servius and Persius and
Quintilianus.
Gaius had required the larger accommodation because of the two agreeable
mementoes he had brought back with him from his recent tour of the eastern
Empire, namely the delightful forms of 10 year-old Achilleus and 12 year-old
Tyanus. This pleasant happening also caused him to want to recruit an adult
slave to assist with the greater volume of housework now generated by four
young males living together, although he had not yet achieved this task.
GaiusÆ first duty of the day within his new home involved his 10 year-old
slave, whom he now addressed before they both ventured out into the Subura
Quarter to fulfil his other errands. "I want to free you, Hylas," the young
man from Volsinii announced, "and, as IÆve already done with Achilleus and
Tyanus, adopt you as my son in order to safeguard your future by virtue of the
inheritance IÆll leave you if anything unfortunate should happen to me."
Hylas responded whilst as usual in private using GaiusÆ praenomen, although he
had recently been trying to utilise the more proper and respectful title of
æmasterÆ elsewhere. The growing 10 year-old did not want to embarrass, or
diminish in the mind of others, the young man from Volsinii by allowing
himself, a mere barbarian eunuch slave boy, to exhibit too much verbal
intimacy in public.
"Your intent is very kind, Gaius," Hylas answered, very maturely for someone
of his tender years. Such maturity was undoubtedly a testament to the
upbringing and private education kindly afforded to the slave boy over the
previous 5¢ years by the marvellous young man from Volsinii.
"But," Hylas continued, "and with all due respect, I wish to decline your
generous offer!"
(Domus of Aulus Plautius, patrician quarter, Palatine Hill, Rome, same time)
æI summon you to continuous pleasures, and not to virtues which are empty and
vain and which hold out troubling expectations of rewards.Æ
- Epicurus
Suffuscus and his younger adoptive brother, Aulus Plautius Minor, respectively
now 15 and 9 years of age, were also naked, but they were also shivering. The
pair of beautiful boys was emerging from the cold water of the frigidarium,
into which they had just reluctantly plunged at the end of their morning
bathing process.
Fortunately, Suffuscus and Aulus Plautius Minor were too accustomed to the
daily procedure to be seriously discomforted by the frigidarium, an attitude
assisted by the presence of two household eunuchs ready to wrap them in warmed
towelling. The boys were also too thrilled by the prospect of the day ahead to
notice the cold, even though their voices shuddered in line with their bodily
shivering as they chatted excitedly.
The senior Aulus Plautius had promised to use his litters to take his two
lovely sons to the 5th milestone of the Via Claudia outside Rome, where the
main ceremonies in respect of the festival of the Robigalia would be held. A
certain young and very important person would be collected from the nearby
Imperial palace on the way, in the form of the older boyÆs best friend, the
recently renamed Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, who would be 14 in
December. The large horse-drawn family æcarpentumÆ, or æcoachÆ, could not be
used for the journey because of the daytime proscription against such vehicles
within RomeÆs inner urban sprawl, which represented their points of departure
and return.
Watching the Robigalian ceremonials were, however, not what really excited the
boysÆ interest but rather where Aulus Plautius Major then next proposed to
take the young threesome. The renowned general, successful invader of my
homeland, intended to take the trio to watch the holiday chariot racing at the
huge Circus Maximus on the Campus Martius, this time via the stables of the
faction, or æfactionesÆ, he supported.
There were four charioteer factiones, the Albata, Prasina, Russata and Veneta.
They wore the respective colours of white, green, red and blue and were most
commonly known by these hues.
You may recall, dear patient reader, that I have already declared my
enthusiasm for the Whites. Well, Aulus Plautius Major supported, like the
previous Emperor, Caligula, as well as the next still to come, one of the
rivals.
(Lodgings of Cornutus, Subura Quarter, Rome, same time)
æà.it is difficult to use the Latin language well when one hears nothing but
the jargon of a barbaric people, so coarse that even the barbarians themselves
who have some education are shocked by ità.My mind has become rusty by dint of
long inertia. If you find [my words] unworthy of your genius, or not able to
cure your sorrow, think that it is hard to console others when one is
preoccupied by oneÆs own misfortune.Æ
- Seneca the Younger (referring again in a letter to a friend about his enforced exile on Corsica)
"Seneca the Younger," Cornutus continued, "argues that being able to influence
Imperial affairs justifies his lack of resolve in respect of his exile.
However, such argument does not deflect me from sadly believing that his
motives were mainly selfish, and that his attitude to altruistic stoic tenets
hypocritically changes in line with his own personal circumstances. I think
that my notion is supported by the contrast between the self-pity he showed in
letters of the time to Roman acquaintances, of which IÆm aware because IÆm
also friendly with many of the recipients, and other, much more principled,
statements heÆs made. For example, I know that heÆs preached that æthe man who
is not inflated by prosperity does not collapse under adversity; the man of
tested constancy keeps a spirit impregnable to either conditionÆ!"
"In Seneca the YoungerÆs defence, though," Cornutus advised, "I believe that
his moral lapses only occur when faced by intellectual rather than physical
hardship. Apart from vegetarianism, he still keeps the ascetic habits of his
earlier life, some of which he was forced to spend for reasons of health,
including political security at the time of SejanusÆ downfall, with relations
in Pompeii and Aegyptia. Such voluntary exile disturbed and slowed his
embryonic career in Rome as a lawyer and politician, thereby undoubtedly
making his subsequent expulsion to Corsica when finally rising in society even
more unendurable."
"Seneca the Younger," Cornutus announced, "still eats and drinks very simply,
with no luxuries like mushrooms, oysters or alcohol in his diet. He also does
not believe in bathing too often and, when he does, he never uses hot water or
deodorants. I additionally understand that every evening he examines his
conscience to determine whether heÆs lived up to his principles during the
day. However, IÆm sure that, when confronted by possible mental atrophy, as
happened on Corsica, he sadly can no longer maintain a resolute attitude to
all of the doctrines heÆs supposed to hold dear."
"Nevertheless, now that Seneca the Younger has returned from exile and is
again exercising his considerable intellect in Rome," Cornutus then appraised
Servius, "I hope that my perception that he has fully reverted for now to his
previous stoic values proves correct. You see, on this very day, I propose to
test his commitment to the philosophy, particularly the belief that all humans
should be treated decently!"
(Domus of Gaius Musonius Rufus, Subura Quarter, Rome, same time)
æThe deliberative faculty is not present at all in the slave, in the female it
is inoperative, in the child undeveloped.Æ
- Aristotle
"Why?" asked an incredulous Gaius of HylasÆ wish to refuse his masterÆs offer
of freedom and adoption. "Because," the 10 year-old slave boy answered "If I
accept, IÆd no longer always be at your side during our waking hours. For
example, youÆd send me off to grammaticus, just as you intend for Achilleus
and Tyanus from the start of the next academic year in September. I donÆt mind
sharing the private lessons that you give your adopted sons in the interim but
would prefer not to do the same in respect of their formal schooling!"
"Why," Gaius asked again before adding "as such a development, although you
mightnÆt like it, would surely be good for you in the long term?" "Because,"
Hylas replied, with genuine selflessness, "I learn enough by being with you
and anyway, much more significantly, you need me constantly at your side to do
a lot of little chores for you. I donÆt think you realise how much you depend
on me to attend to such minor tasks, which are activities that allow you to
spend more time on the most important aspects of your life, such as your
studies and writings in philosophy."
"I can always acquire someone else to perform such duties," Gaius responded,
whilst suddenly realising how truly valuable were his conscientious and
efficient young slaveÆs practical contributions to his life. "They wouldnÆt be
as good," Hylas retorted, not necessarily with excess boastfulness.
"Anyway," the young slave boy continued, "I recall what the old soothsayer on
the Vatican, whom Axenius still believes was the goddess, Cybele, once told
us. I believe that I can remember her words exactly because they affected me
so much, even though I was only a 5 year-old. She announced regarding you:
æYou can become one of the worldÆs greatest philosophers. Unfortunately, you
will be cursed by having your voice listened to and obeyed by few in your
time, or for ages to come. Instead, certain other lesser philosophies will be
followed that will cause the world much grief over many centuries. However,
the day will eventually arrive when, amidst much blight, your teachings are
finally given proper consideration. This overdue happening will then lead to
the salvation of mankind, but only if you follow your predestined path by
conducting your life and airing your opinions as your conscience dictates.
Never be deflected from these aims by anyone, for the sake of generations far
into the future!Æ She then declared in respect of me: æMuch of your long life
will be consumed serving a great cause. There will be many ups and downs but
you will remain loyally steadfast and efficient until your work is done. You
will also always relish the role you play.Æ"
"DonÆt you recognise, Gaius," Hylas added in successful conclusion, thereby
achieving the exceedingly rare accomplishment for anyone of defeating his
master in debate, "that what she meant by my ægreat causeÆ is you!"
(Domus of Nigerinus, Subura Quarter, Rome, later same morning)
æLeve fit, quod bene fertur, onus.Æ
(æA burden which is done well becomes light.Æ)
- Ovid
The domus of 22 year-old Nigerinus might not have been the ideal for most
Romans, and not just because of the residenceÆs plebeian location or
diminutive size. The fact that his home was fronted by a funeral establishment
would instead have been the most off-putting aspect of the place for most
citizens. However, the nullified black eunuch did not care because he rather
liked living so close to where he worked.
Nigerinus had been freed from slavery by Aulus Plautius Major to manage the
funeral business that the renowned general owned to boost his revenues, albeit
secretly because patricians were supposed not to stoop to dabbling in
commerce. The nullified eunuch had proven an inspired choice because the
enterprise was thriving, and not just because of the usual high death rate in
Rome.
The service had instead acquired an excellent reputation for the caring and
efficient manner in which funeral ceremonies were arranged and conducted. Such
standards, along with Aulus PlautiusÆ influence within ClaudiusÆ court, had
led to commissions from the palace, although so far only in respect of
deceased slaves, whom the Emperor, unlike many other masters, did not insist
had to pay for their own internments. Such Imperial approval had further
substantially boosted business and, in almost another 3 yearsÆ time, would
also have great significance for certain personalities in my life-story.
Unlike in 3 yearsÆ time, aspects of the funeral business were, however, not
currently the reason why Nigerinus had been awake and up since well before
dawn. The nullified eunuch had instead spent several hours cradling a cute
baby boy in his arms whilst the adult paced up and down a bedroom.
The new-born white baby appeared very content in the kind black manÆs caring
and comforting arms, happily peering round the lamp-lit bedroom until finally
again succumbing to sleep. However, whenever the child was returned carefully
and gently to his cot, he would invariably quickly re-awaken and begin crying
again until picked up once more, restarting the action cycle.
The babyÆs mother was the widow of an impecunious gladiator killed in the
arena by the infamous Didius. Being then pregnant and destitute, the young
white woman had gladly accepted the offer of the post of housekeeper to
Nigerinus, to whom she essentially then became a loving sister. She had now
just been allowed a respite from her own similar supervision of her son by the
kind eunuch, who assumed the custodial role whilst she gained some sleep.
Nigerinus accepted the chore for three reasons, the first being that he was
naturally considerate. The second incentive related to his insistence that the
child was not wrapped in the customary but surely highly uncomfortable
comprehensive swaddling inflicted on babies by Roman parents, preferring,
correctly in my opinion, freer African practices. However, he was now feeling
guilty that, by not following the common local habit, he might somehow have
caused the restlessness of the boy, who had been named Aulus in honour of the
person to whom the eunuch was beholden for his freedom and employment. The
third motive was even more emotional.
Nigerinus had come to love both mother and son deeply.
(Imperial palace, Palatine Hill, Rome, same time)
æStrive with all your strength, struggle with might and main, to save your
young master by your efforts.Æ
- the slave, Acanthio, in PlautusÆ æMercatorÆ (111)
I had finally managed to comfort my similarly aged friend and fellow Imperial
slave, Apollinus, with whom I shared modest but comfortable accommodation
within the palace, sufficiently to stop him shedding tears. The 20 year-old
Rhodian had been lachrymose and sleepless for most of the previous night,
after returning to our rooms with the dreadful news.
ApollinusÆ sorrowful emotions had previously been immune to my suggestions as
to how we could try to overcome the problem that had caused my friendÆs tears.
I advised that I could mention the issue to Claudius but the young Rhodian,
probably correctly, replied that the Emperor, in his dotage, would either be
too disinterested or too much under his wifeÆs influence to react. I then said
that I could seek NarcissusÆ help. However my fellow 20 year-old rightly
responded that the Imperial secretaryÆs power was currently much reduced
because of the recent fiasco at the Fucine Lake, a major construction project
for which he had overall responsibility and in respect of which Agrippina was
again accusing him of corrupt practices, now damagingly.
I mentioned others who might assist, such as ApollinusÆ own younger lover, 19
year-old Rubellius Plautus, whom we both knew was occasionally incestuously
coerced into the bed of his aunt, 37 year-old Agrippina. I also nominated my
fellow slaveÆs 17 year-old younger brother, Helius, and his lover, 24 year-old
Doryphorus, who formed NeroÆs freedmen secretariat and were incorrectly
considered to be allies of the Empress.
I additionally proposed that Cornutus and Petronius, with the help of their
court connections, plus that of Axenius and my beloved Gaius, might be able
somehow to overcome AgrippinaÆs wickedness. As a final resort, I even
suggested that I myself could raise the issue during the daily briefing about
ClaudiusÆ activities that I still provided for the Empress, despite
appreciating that my influence on her was minimal.
I did not nominate Burrus, whom I occasionally still reluctantly allowed to
gain pleasure from my body in return for gaining his unwitting insight into
AgrippinaÆs court circle, in line with my apparently failing conspiracy with
Narcissus to try to protect Britannicus. I already knew that the new and
generally honourable Praetorian Prefect had already privately aired his
objections to the developments with the Empress but she had been unmoved.
Apollinus dismissed all my suggestions, again probably correctly, on the
grounds that none of the people mentioned were likely to influence Agrippina.
We then both concluded that only one person would be likely to have such an
effect, which helped clear my friendÆs tears, as we planned our move.
(Domus of Titus Flavius Vespasianus, Pomegranate Street, Subura Quarter, Rome,
same time)
æThere can be great men even under bad Emperors, and duty and discretion, if
coupled with energy of character and a career of action, will bring a man to
no less glorious summits than are attained by perilous paths and ostentatious
deaths, with no advantage to the commonwealth.Æ
- Tacitus (æAgricolaÆ, 42)
After completing his short part-year as Consul, 43 year-old Titus Flavius
Vespasianus had deliberately returned to relative obscurity. He appreciated
that, as Agrippina became increasingly more powerful at the expense of his
friend and early benefactor, Narcissus, the maintenance of a low profile would
be safest. However, he also knew that this past sleepless night necessitated
him breaking cover to make a potentially dangerous visit to the Imperial
palace.
VespasianusÆ lack of overnight rest unusually did not on this occasion stem
from the crying of his second son, Domitianus, who was just a 6 month-old
baby, but was instead caused by the sobbing of his older 11 year-old child,
Titus. Consequently, the renowned but currently militarily unemployed and
impecunious general considered that he had little choice but to visit someone
whom he believed might influence Agrippina to change her mind.
Despite the great bravery that Vespasianus had often displayed in battle, he
felt very apprehensive about undertaking his mission, as his visit might
dangerously raise his profile in AgrippinaÆs wicked mind. However, the
renowned and courageous general believed that, if he was prepared to risk his
life for Emperors, he should also do so for his older son.
(Domus of Axenius, Rome, same time)
æFor, as I detest the doorways of death, I detest that man who
Holds one thing in the depths of his heart and speaks forth another.Æ
- Achilles in HomerÆs æIliadÆ (9.312-3)
"What can we do?" asked a concerned Axenius about the disturbing news that
Cornutus had brought him. "I donÆt believe that Seneca knows or would
approve," was the reply, "and so IÆll first go to him to request his help."
"Would he be bothered?" Axenius next enquired. Cornutus answered "I think so.
Seneca is no enemy of the boy and does not wish him harm. His stoicism should
also make him compassionate to others."
"However," Cornutus worryingly added, "SenecaÆs version of the philosophy
sadly also apparently entails that his first considerations will be for the
greater good or, in his case, Rome, plus occasionally rather selfishly
himself, and not necessarily in that order!"
(Imperial palace, Palatine Hill, Rome, later same morning)
æWe are all members of one great body. Nature has made us relativesà.[members
of] a vast and truly common state, which embraces alike gods and men, in which
we look neither to this corner of Earth nor to that, but measure the bounds of
our citizenship by the path of the sun.Æ
- Seneca the Younger
"Thank you for agreeing to see me, Sir," Cornutus said politely to Seneca the
Younger. "ItÆs always a pleasure to meet a former member of my fatherÆs
household, whom IÆve tempted to become a fellow stoic," NeroÆs tutor replied
to the person whom he was also happy to have as BritannicusÆ principal
teacher, "and in respect of what business do I owe the honour?"
"My dismissal yesterday as tutor to Britannicus," Cornutus responded to the
shocked Seneca, who still knew nothing of AgrippinaÆs latest perfidious
actions in respect of her stepson.
(Domus of Nigerinus, Subura Quarter, Rome, same time)
æNon est ad astra mollis e terris via.Æ
(æThere is no easy way from the earth to the stars.Æ)
- Seneca the Younger
Nigerinus was still pacing up and down the bedroom with little Aulus, now
somnolent again in his arms. As he walked, the nullified black eunuch wondered
what the boy would become when he grew up, as he wished the child a good, long
and worthy life. He certainly proposed to do everything within his own powers
to ensure that his desire came true and he also now prayed to the spirit gods
of his distant African homeland to help him.
NigerinusÆ African gods not only must have heard the eunuchÆs entreaties made
for little Aulus in faraway Rome but also were to prove themselves both
powerful and worthy of such prayers. The wish of the nullified eunuch was to
be granted in a magnificent way.
The baby boy would, as an adult, even eclipse the meritorious achievements of
the man after whom he had been named, Aulus Plautius.
(Imperial palace, Palatine Hill, Rome, later same morning)
æYou must live for your neighbour if you would live for yourself.Æ
- Seneca the Younger
"Thank you for agreeing to see me, Augusta," Seneca the Younger said politely
to Agrippina. "ItÆs always a pleasure to meet my stoic adviser," NeroÆs mother
replied, "and in respect of what business do I owe the honour?"
"I should like to retire from your service with immediate effect," Seneca
responded to the shocked Empress.
(Domus of Callistus, patrician quarter, Palatine Hill, Rome, same time)
æRemember that I can do anything to anybody!Æ
- Emperor Caligula
Callistus was not a patrician but had once been a slave and so his procurement
of a luxurious domus amidst those possessed by RomeÆs nobility was not
welcomed by most of his snobbish aristocratic neighbours on the Palatine Hill.
However, such distaste for the presence of the home a mere freedman amongst
those of RomeÆs supposed elite was kept quiet because he also happened to be
one of the EmpireÆs most influential people, being in charge of petitions and
legal matters for the Emperor Claudius.
One compensation for the snobs, in respect of their low-born neighbour, came
from the fact that, given CallistusÆ position and desire to remain as close to
the centre of power as possible, the freedman mainly resided in rooms in the
Imperial palace. His domus was therefore principally used by his only
daughter, Nymphida, who had been one of CaligulaÆs mistresses and had given
birth to the previous EmperorÆs illegitimate son, the now 13 year-old Gaius
Nymphidius Sabinus.
Nymphidius Sabinus, possessor of fair curly hair and blue eyes, was quite
pretty but contrastingly ugly in character, which might have been a
characteristic inherited from his infamous father and partly explained why he
had no real friends. However, he made up for such lack of companions amongst
his peers by frequently making a misery of the lives of some of the slave boys
of his grandfatherÆs domus, where he lived with his rather remote mother, who
preferred debauchery to looking after the welfare of her only son.
Nymphidius Sabinus only chose the prettiest young male slaves to abuse because
he was becoming increasingly attracted to such looks. He also generally
selected boys who were older than him, as he sadistically liked enhancing
their humiliation by causing them additional shame through them being
tormented by someone younger.
On this occasion, 13 year-old Nymphidius Sabinus was in a secluded colonnade
in the large garden of his grandfatherÆs domus, attired within the copious
rich folds of his childÆs purple-edged toga praetexta and seated on a marble
bench. Before him stood a very beautiful and rightly nervous barefoot 15 year-
old slave boy, with dark sensuous eyes and silky straight hair of similar
colour, trimmed in the Roman bowl style, and dressed in a simple, short and
sleeveless servantÆs tunic without underwear.
Nymphidius Sabinus now commanded the summoned young slave to "Remove your
tunic!" The boy, who sadly had been the victim of the young masterÆs sadism
previously, knew better than to hesitate, as such reaction would inevitably
result in painful punishment at the hands of the cruel 13 year-old.
"I want you to stop shielding your genitals with your hands," Nymphidius
Sabinus subsequently commanded of the newly naked and acutely abashed older
slave boy, whilst displaying a wicked smirk, "and instead masturbate and
produce some of your seed for me!"
(Imperial palace, Palatine Hill, Rome, same time)
Oro, si quis adhuc precibus locus, exue mentem.Æ
(æI beg you, if thereÆs still time for entreaties, change your mind.Æ)
- Virgil (æAeneidÆ, iv.319)
"Why do you want to retire from my service?" the shocked Agrippina asked of
Seneca the Younger. The EmpressÆ latest perfidy in respect of Britannicus,
designed to help boost NeroÆs position further, had been devised in secret
with her trio of equally ambitious and ruthless key allies, the patricians,
Faenius Rufus and Aulus Vitellius, and the Imperial freedman, Pallas, who was
responsible for the treasury.
Agrippina knew, from views expressed by him previously, that Seneca would
dislike the increased isolation of Britannicus. Consequently, the Empress had
proposed to present her highly valued principal formal adviser and tutor to
her natural son with a fait accompli about the dismissal of the younger
princeÆs teachers, personal slave and best friend.
"Because, Augusta," Seneca answered, "you have chosen to disregard my earlier
recommendation that the current arrangements for Britannicus should remain in
place. I therefore believe that I cannot be of any further use to you as a
helpful source of wise counsel."
"Why shouldnÆt I pursue the proposed actions," Agrippina enquired, "as theyÆre
merely designed with BritannicusÆ welfare in mind? His teachers and personal
slave have proved unsatisfactory and VespasianusÆ son, Titus, is unsuitable as
a friend. I therefore propose to appoint tutors, servants and playmates of my
own selection to assist with the childÆs upbringing."
"I have a different opinion, Augusta," Seneca rather bravely retorted, "for
Cornutus and his colleagues are the best tutors in Rome at present." "Apart
from you," Agrippina then interrupted to comment, perhaps hoping that flattery
might help reduce her key adviserÆs obvious annoyance.
"Thank you for the kind remark, Augusta," Seneca replied, "but, if itÆs true,
I maintain that youÆre then simply dismissing the second-best tutors in Rome.
As for BritannicusÆ personal slave, whose name is Apollinus I believe, thereÆs
no more competent or conscientious servant in the palace." "I believe,"
Agrippina again interrupted to comment, "that my husbandÆs principal food-
taster, Bicilus, might be a contender for such a nomination!"
I was later flattered to be told of AgrippinaÆs regard for me. However, I was
unsure how much of this respect was associated with the facts that she
desperately needed ammunition to counter SenecaÆs arguments and that she
considered me incorrectly to be one of her allies within the Imperial
household.
"Well, Augusta," Seneca responded, "if also true, youÆd still be dismissing
from your step-sonÆs service the second most efficient slave in the palace. As
for Titus, I can vouch that heÆs an entirely suitable companion for
Britannicus, or do you doubt my ability to judge children?"
Agrippina, in her current position of Empress, would not normally tolerate
such arguments from others. However, she also knew that she still needed the
continued sage advice of the 57 year-old stoic standing before her in the
privacy of her personal palace quarters and was therefore prepared to continue
to debate the issues patiently.
Seneca was aware of the delicacy of his situation in respect of such a
powerful woman, who could easily return him to exile or have worse perpetrated
on him. However, in response to CornutusÆ plea for help, and undoubted
undeclared challenge to his stoic principles, plus similar entreaties from the
respected Titus Flavius Vespasianus and two impertinent young palace slaves,
he had decided to take a calculated risk. He would try to persuade Agrippina
to change her mind in respect of her latest decisions regarding 11 year-old
Britannicus by using a mix of argument and blackmail.
Seneca recognised that the perceptive Agrippina not only still needed him but
also appreciated her requirement. Consequently, he did not believe that his
attempted coercion would backfire through her accepting his resignation and
possibly becoming vengefully angered in the process. He also knew that, if
either outcome unexpectedly materialised, he could again swallow his stoic
principles and instead seek humbly to apologise and retract. His conscience
could then be partly salved by knowledge that he had at least again attempted,
albeit unsuccessfully, to help Britannicus.
Seneca now quickly and astutely advanced his next arguments before Agrippina
had a chance to answer his previous points. He did not want the Empress to
have any room to manoeuvre in the face of his logic.
"As well as the worthiness of the people concerned, Augusta," Seneca
propounded, "there are two other reasons why the present arrangements for
Britannicus should stay unchanged. First, there may be a dangerous and
unnecessary backlash in certain quarters against what might be perceived as
the poor treatment and further marginalisation at court of ClaudiusÆ natural
son. The Emperor himself might even be roused into action. Second and as I
have previously suggested, if something untoward should sadly happen to Nero,
the younger princeÆs authority could increase substantially but your earlier
attitude towards him might have irrevocably alienated him from you. He might
therefore take advice from opponents to your ambitions, which might not only
lose you influence over Imperial affairs but also be threatening to your life.
However, previous decent treatment of an impressionable boy might otherwise
have gained his confidence and co-operation in such circumstances."
Agrippina lapsed into silence for a while, as she considered SenecaÆs views
and the possibility and consequences of losing him as her principal formal
adviser. The Empress then reluctantly agreed to accept the 57 year-oldÆs
counsel but added a rather sinister rider.
"DonÆt ever try to blackmail me again," Agrippina suggested, "or IÆll have you
begging to be returned to Corsica rather than suffer what my wrath will cause
to befall you!" Seneca immediately realised that he had indeed suffered some
backfire from the Empress for his coercion but hoped that her grudge would not
persist.
As events subsequently materialised, however, AgrippinaÆs threat was actually
to prove of great significance, not only to her and Seneca but also to Rome.
(Domus of Callistus, patrician quarter, Palatine Hill, Rome, same time)
æNudus ara, sere nudus.Æ
(æStrip to plough and strip to sow.Æ)
- Virgil (æGeorgicsÆ, 1.299)
Nymphidius Sabinus watched happily as the beautiful slave, two years older and
taller but with as smooth a body as the younger boy, apart from a currently
slight and neat tuft of pubic hair above his pleasantly proportioned genitals,
masturbated before him. However, the acutely abashed 15 year-old initially
encountered difficulty in acquiring an erection, let alone achieving orgasm.
Such seeming sexual impotence was not as a consequence of any lack of
innocence on the young slaveÆs part because he now indulged frequently, albeit
privately, in the pleasure. The older boyÆs inability to become hard was
instead entirely attributable to his intense embarrassment at being commanded
to perform such a debasing act in front of the young master.
Although the 15 year-old boy had already suffered several humiliations at the
sadistic hands of 13 year-old Nymphidius Sabinus, often involving the shame of
personal nudity, he had not previously been required to indulge in a sex act.
However, a person of his status could not really refuse because punishments
for disobedient slaves ranged from being beaten to the extreme of crucifixion.
Nymphidius Sabinus had only recently become fascinated by the subject of
masturbation, after his pubescent body had begun to make his own attractive
form interested in the pleasurable pastime, although so far unproductively if
a tiny drop of transparent ejaculate was ignored. The 13 year-old had
originally encountered a little early guilt about his genital play, caused by
initial naivety that he might be the only human to indulge in such
perversities. However, his worries were eventually dispelled when he finally
summoned enough courage to question another older slave about the topic, as
well as other sexual practices, before requiring the appalled boy to provide a
practical demonstration.
Nymphidius Sabinus had enjoyed the resultant masturbatory performance so much,
in stark contrast to the attitude of the young performer, that he was now
commissioning a further demonstration from another pretty young slave. As
previously, the clothed 13 year-old was particularly looking forward to
observing the naked, older, post-pubescent boyÆs face, as he orgasmed and
whilst he subsequently degradingly licked up his own mess from the marble
floor of the garden colonnade.
Nymphidius Sabinus was also considering practising for the first time the act
of sodomy, which the original older slave boy had been compelled to describe
but thankfully not demonstrate for his young master. Despite his own cockÆs
current unwillingness to produce semen, the 13 year-old was sure that his
small penis would enjoy the feel of entering the 15 year-old.
The current slave boy tried to overcome the inadequacy of his flaccid penis by
rubbing the uncut shaft energetically between his fingers but to no avail.
Consequently, the already reddened gorgeous face of the humiliated 15 year-
old, who was keen to end the degrading exercise as quickly as possible,
darkened in hue, as a result of both so far unproductive vigorous exertion and
shame.
Nymphidius Sabinus was initially amused by the naked slave boyÆs clear
problem, as was evidenced by the return of a wicked grin on the 13 year-oldÆs
face whilst he watched the spectacle. However, he then became impatient and
decided to provide the 15 year-old with an inducement to perform successfully.
Nymphidius Sabinus instructed the slave boy to stop his action and then
briefly left the colonnade. However, the 13 year-old returned quickly, this
time carrying a small water clock, which basically comprised one glass orb
leaking liquid into an other, plus a rod, or æferulaÆ. The 15 year-old was
well acquainted with the latter tool because he had been beaten with the
implement on many occasions for minor misdemeanours, either real or imagined.
"YouÆll sow your seed onto the ground before the water clock expires,"
Nymphidius Sabinus now informed the appalled slave boy, as the 13 year-old
reset his timepiece, "or IÆll personally give you ten strokes of the rod
across your bottom before ploughing your rear with my own cock!"
(5th milestone of the Via Claudia, outside Rome, same time)
æMan gazes at the stars but his feet are in the mud.Æ
- Seneca the Younger
The annual festival of the Robigalia was celebrated in honour of the god of
fertility, Robigus, who possesses the power to spoil crops with mildew, which
often occurs at this time of the year in countries around the Mare Internum.
Consequently, the Romans make copious efforts to appease the deity to prevent
such a disaster happening on a scale that could cause famine.
Amongst the relevant events is the sacrifice of a dog and a sheep on a
specially erected altar at the 5th milestone of the Via Claudia, the main
northerly road out of Rome, followed by races for men and boys. The
traditional venue had originally been chosen because it supposedly signified
the end of the urban sprawl, whose population is so dependent on the success
of harvests, and the start of the rural countryside, where the life-giving
crops are grown.
The sacrifices are conducted by the priest, the æFlamen QuirinalisÆ, who
oversees, in a splendid temple, rebuilt by Augustus after a destructive fire,
the cult of Quirinus. This god is basically the pacific aspect of the deity of
war, Mars, or æMars QuietusÆ, as he presides over honourable peace, with which
the divine first Emperor had blessed Rome.
The Flamen Quirinalis also possesses responsibility for other aspects of Roman
religious and social life, including leading the public rites for the god
Robigus. Hence, the priestÆs presence today at the 5th milestone of the Via
Claudia.
The presence of Suffuscus and Nero at the 5th milestone was explained by the
fact that Seneca, who was not necessarily an observer of minor public
festivals, had nevertheless excused them and their fellow class members from
lessons for the day. However, for the two friends and the younger Aulus
Plautius Minor, watching the sacrifices and the subsequent human form of
racing was not to be the highlight of the festivities. They were instead more
interested in the fact that they were later to be spectators of the version
involving chariots at the Circus Maximus on the Campus Martius, and even more
excited at the prospect of visiting a relevant stables on the way.
Aulus Plautius Major was to take the young trio to the stables of the Greens,
from which visit they would emerge with a rather unexpected ox-head.
(Corinth, Achaea, Greece, same time)
æLet no one deceive you by any meansà.Æ
- PaulÆs 2nd letter to the Thessalonians (2.3)
Some people who cared little for the festival of the Robigalia were of course
the members of the new Jewish æChristianÆ sect, including Paul and Timothy and
their current hosts in Corinth, Aquila and his wife, Priscilla. Instead of
celebrating a pagan god, they were intending to spend the day in their usual
pursuits.
Paul, currently entirely reliant on his hostÆs kind hospitality, would write
letters and also, with Timothy, visit and meet fellow Christians in Corinth.
Aquila, up at dawn like most tradesmen throughout the Roman Empire, would make
tents to earn his living, whilst Priscilla would help him, as well as perform
housework, including cooking for and tidying up after their guests.
PaulÆs current main literary proclamation was yet another letter to the
Thessalonians. After again commending the Thessalonians for their loyalty and
assuring them that God would deal justly with their persecutors, the inventive
philosopher of his variant of the Christian sect reiterated that the coming
day of their Lord was near, although it was not as close as some people
thought.
Concerning a report that had circulated among the Thessalonians stating that
the day had already come, Paul once more told them not to be deceived about
the matter. The event would not arrive until after certain happenings took
place, mainly the advent of an Antichrist, someone currently restrained by the
Romans but in whom the power of Satan would become incarnate. The evil one
would then establish himself in the Temple at Jerusalem and use miraculous
signs and wonders to deceive faithful people
Paul, however, reassured the Thessalonians that Jesus Christ would return to
overthrow such wickedness "with the breath of his mouth and destroy by the
splendour of his coming". His current letter then closed with a repeated
recommendation that they continued their regular work, as opposed to waiting
in idleness, as some were apparently doing, for the return of the Saviour.
(Domus of Aulus Plautius, patrician quarter, Palatine Hill, Rome, same time)
æMere gibberish.Æ
- Cato about philosophy
As Pomponia Graecina often furtively did during the absences from their
palatial domus of her husband, Aulus Plautius, she hosted a visit by Cephas to
their home. The guest, who had given his host the baptismal name of æLucinaÆ
on her secret conversion to the new Jewish Christian philosophy, was normally
very placid in conversation. However, on this occasion, having now heard more
news about PaulÆs preachings in Asia Minor and Greece, he was very annoyed.
"Paul must be stopped," Cephas suggested with firm conviction, "from spreading
his blasphemous creed, which presents a complete distortion of the life of my
close friend, Jesus Christ!"
(Domus of Callistus, patrician quarter, Palatine Hill, Rome, same time)
æA living tool.Æ
- AristotleÆs description of a slave
If anything, the young slave now, as he watched water slowly pour from one orb
of the water clock to the other, encountered greater difficulty in achieving
erection and climax than previously, which actually did not displease
Nymphidius Sabinus, as the 13 year-old rather enjoyed watching the 15 year-old
struggling. He also rather fancied the possibility of beating and then
practising sodomy for the first time on the delightful rear curves of the
apparently sexually inadequate older boy, as the pleasant prospect came ever
closer to reality.
The young slaveÆs eyes eventually became tearful, whilst his cock remained
resolutely soft, despite his desperate exertions to excite his passive penis.
The 15 year-old had begun to realise that his time was now rapidly running out
and that he would therefore soon feel the sinister ferula striking his bottom
and then the 13 year-old trying to sodomise him.
Despite the fact that Nymphidius Sabinus was 2 years younger, the slave knew
from experience that the boy could wield the rod as well as most adults.
Although the 15 year-old was unsure about the capability of his young masterÆs
13 year-old penis in respect of the act of sodomy, he also anxiously realised
that being the subject of a mere attempt would be deeply humiliating.
The slave boy was therefore not looking forward to the imminent consequences
of his sexual incapacity.
(Massilia, Narbonensis, Gaul [modern Marseilles, France], same time)
æà.until there was no proper sea, land or air but a sort of mixture of all
three like a jelly-fish in which one can neither walk nor sailà.Æ
- Pytheas (a shipÆs captain from Massalia who sailed into fogbanks north of Britannia)
Massalia was founded on the southern shores of Gaul, about 6¢ centuries before
the arrival of a certain boy in the city, by the Ionian metropolis of Phocaea,
as a Greek trading port in the west of the Mare Internum. Massilia, with the
middle æaÆ replaced by an æiÆ, is the Latinised name, although the native
inhabitants have continued to use the original version long after the Roman
conquest, when it became capital of the Narbonensis province.
Although near to the mouth of the great river, the Rhodanus [modern Rhone -
Pueros], Massilia is thankfully sufficiently far enough away from the estuary
to avoid the common diseases associated with swampy deltas. The city is also
an excellent and prosperous port, from which Greek culture spread along the
coast and inland upriver, leading to the foundation of several other Hellenic
metropolises.
Greek sea trade went to Massalia and then travelled up the Rhodanus, advancing
northward to the realms of the Celts, including that of my own Britannian
race, from whom prized tin was sought, often in return for wine. I suppose
therefore that the port can be at least partly blamed for the fondness for the
alcoholic product of the grape now enjoyed by many of my people.
The Romans under Julius Caesar had conquered and destroyed Massalia about a
century before the arrival of a certain boy in the city but they then had the
place rebuilt because of its strategic and trading importance. However, the
significance of the port to the child related to the fact that he had been
sent to the place as an 11 year-old at the start of the academic year in the
previous September by his widowed mother. He was to complete his education at
a residential ægrammaticusÆ or æsecondary schoolÆ.
The grammaticus had recently been established in Massilia to cater for members
of the Roman elite and it had already gained an excellent reputation for
educational standards, thereby tempting rich parents to send their sons there
from all over Narbonensis. The institutionÆs worthiness was perhaps
inevitable, given that it was one of AxeniusÆ new enterprises, the young
Germanian having funded one of PalaemonÆs freedman, a disciple of the renowned
teacherÆs methods and a Gaul from the area, to return home to set up the
school.
The now 12 year-old boy, who was highly attractive in terms of both appearance
and character, had arrived in the previous September from the more easterly
port on the coast of Narbonensis of Forum Julii [modern FrÚjus, France -
Pueros]. This city, originally a small Massalian settlement, is located at the
mouth of the River Argenteus.
Although the festival of the Robigalia is celebrated in Massilia as much as
elsewhere in the Roman Empire, the clever and academically conscientious boy,
who was of noble Roman lineage and was already literate in Greek as well as
Latin, was using the holiday to study. He was in the cityÆs ancient and well-
stocked library, which had been built by Greek settlers and had fortunately
survived the destruction reeked on the metropolis by Julius CaesarÆs forces a
century previously.
The boy was reading, for a history project set by his grammaticus teacher, an
ancient memoir, written by Pytheas, an adventurous Hellenic shipÆs captain,
who been based in Massilia long before. The delightful child learnt in awe
about the sailorÆs voyages, and was especially interested in his description
of the island the 12 year-old presumed must now be called Britannia and the
ocean beyond.
æI too must someday go there,Æ thought the boy, who was to become a close
friend of mine, with whom I would share several adventures, as I shall later
describe. He later told me that his fascination for my homeland began on this
day in the library in Massilia.
(Domus of Callistus, patrician quarter, Palatine Hill, Rome, same time)
æWe must guide the child between the two extremes, using now the curb, now the
spur.Æ
- Seneca the Younger
"Turn round and bend over," the smirking 13 year-old Nymphidius Sabinus next
commanded of the 15 year-old slave boy, who not only had failed to ejaculate
in time but also still displayed a determinedly flaccid cock, "and present
your rear for well-deserved chastisement and sodomy. WeÆll then again see
whether you can masturbate successfully or whether you prefer another ten
strokes of my rod!"
The slave boy had not anticipated such a disturbing codicil to proceedings and
so considered begging for mercy. However, his consideration was brief, as the
15 year-old quickly realised from experience that not only would no such
clemency emanate from the sadistic young master but also the younger boy would
probably increase the punishment tariff in outrage at his impudence in making
such a plea.
The slave boy, with some tears now creeping down his beautiful face, which had
suddenly transformed in colour from the red of exertion and shame to the white
of pure trepidation, therefore simply obeyed Nymphidius SabinusÆ latest
humiliating order. Having experienced beatings previously at various hands,
the 15 year-old knew precisely what position to adopt and hoped that he would
be able to maintain the demeaning stance throughout the imminent chastisement,
as failure to do so invariably entailed extra hits.
The young slave spread his legs and bent over to grasp his ankles with a
firmness that he prayed would help him to retain his positioning once the
harsh blows of the sturdy ferula began to rain down on his vulnerable bare
bottom. Nymphidius SabinusÆ wicked grin increased, as he observed the tearful
15 year-old meekly assume his demeaning stance, which not only highlighted the
older boyÆs buttocks in readiness for striking and sodomy but also displayed
his miscreant genitalia to good effect.
Nymphidius SabinusÆ smirk then enlarged even more when he now noticed that the
slave boyÆs cock had suddenly finally hardened.
(Imperial palace, Palatine Hill, Rome, shortly afterwards, same morning)
æVerberat nos et lacerat fortuna.Æ
(æFortune batters and torments us.Æ)
- Seneca the Younger (æDialoguesÆ, i.4.12)
Britannicus and Apollinus, with tears in their sublime eyes, were hugging each
other. "I thought that IÆd never see you again," the exceedingly pretty 11
year-old prince commented, as he maintained his tight embrace on his very
handsome 20 year-old personal slave, whom Agrippina had dismissed from his
service on the previous day. The natural son of Claudius currently did not
seem to want ever to let go of the young person who meant so much to him.
On ApollinusÆ part, the 20 year-old could have repeated BritannicusÆ words as
a reflection of his own earlier concerns, and was also very happy to indulge
in a long platonic embrace with the boy to whose service he had been suddenly
and unexpectedly returned. However, the pairÆs physical closeness was
curtailed when two further guests arrived in the 11 year-oldÆs rather modest
quarters, in the shape of his best friend, Titus, and senior tutor, Cornutus.
An extremely glad and relieved Britannicus then afforded tearful hugs to the
two new arrivals, which were as meaningfully intense as that awarded to
Apollinus. As the very grateful prince embraced Cornutus, the increasingly
renowned teacher again contemplated amidst his own happiness those aspects of
stoicism that he shared with Seneca the Younger.
Cornutus joyously noted in his highly intelligent mind that his aspiration,
that SenecaÆs philosophic beliefs had been sufficiently restored to encourage
him to try to rescue a young boy from adversity, had been met. He also hoped
that the now obviously very influential older stoicÆs helpful attitude
persisted if another crisis sometime threatened BritannicusÆ clearly still
highly precarious position within the Imperial court.
Such a future crisis appeared inevitable.
(To be continued in chapter XLVII û æInjuriesÆ)
* * *
` |
Candice's hobby | STRAIGHT, PENECTOMY | Candice escapes a mental hospital and goes about her old hobby of collecting severed cockheads | ` Candice took in a large breath of the wonderful night air. It had been so
many years since she had been able to enjoy nights like these, and now that
she was out of the asylum she could begin enjoying life again. Despite all the
medication and councilling, there was still only one thing she wanted, and now
that it was a week since her clever escape, she felt it was time. She
remembered the first time, with her uncle Jeff. He certainly learned his
lesson. But now she was 48 and had a lot of catching up to do. `
She had watched them for a week, coming and going out of their house. The
family consisted of a man and his two sons, one looked to be about 16, the
other 13. She would casually walk by every now and then, or monitor them from
a cafe within view of the house. She wanted them tonight, she had been waiting
20 years to do this again, she could not wait any longer. She had found a pair
of large scissors lying in a dumpster in one of the back alleys, they were
horribly filthy and rusted, but that was just what she liked. She thought back
to the jars she had kept, all containing the perfectly preserved cockheads of
her previous victims. It made her so wet and excited, she could not wait for
midnight to strike.
Finally it was time. She noticed not a single light was on in the house. She
had watched the boys come in so many times through the garage, opening it and
grabbing a key hidden under a bucket to get into the house from a door inside
the garage. She creeped up to the garage door, tying her long red hair back
into a bun. She reached down and lifted the garage door ever so slightly and
slowly. She got down on her hands and knees and crawled under it. She got up
and closed it behind her. She was now trembling with excitment. She stripped
off her clothes, she knew she had to do this naked. Her one hand held onto the
huge scissors while her other hand touched her clitoris, sending chills up her
spine. Once her eyes had adjusted to the dark a little, she slowly made her
way to the bucket. She lifted it and felt for the key. There it was!! She then
made her way to the door, fumbling with the keyhole, making sure she did not
make any noise. Once she got it in, she turned the key and opened the door
slowly. Perfect! She was in the house, and not a soul had stirred to greet
her. She climbed the stairs to the main lobby and then found the carpetted
stairs that led up to the bedroom. Ever so carefully she pulled herself up the
banister, making sure nothing creaked beneath her. Then she heard someone come
out of their room. She froze, and so did her heart.
It was the father. He shuffled, half-asleep, into the washroom, flicking on
the light. He hadn't noticed her. She watched as he fished out his cock and
began to piss without even closing the bathroom door. This was her chance.
Without making a sound, she swiftly came up the rest of the stairs and creeped
up behind him. He was far too groggy to notice.
Now she was right behind him. She looked over his shoulder to see him holding
a large limp cock spraying a rather sloppy stream of urine. Quick as lightning
and with exact percision, she brought the open blades of the scissors around
his waist and brought them closed as tightly as she could just behind the
ridge of his cockhead. It took him a second to react, but when he did, he
bucked and gasped, pulling away from her as a stream of urine and blood hit
the floor. She refused to let go, and sqeezed the scissors even tighter,
trying desperately to cut off the stubborn organ. Finally the blades gave, and
there was a plop noise in the toilet as the man held his bleeding organ,
trying to scream as he slid down the wall. Before he could regain his breath,
she stabbed the blades of the scissors into his jugular, ending his life
instantly. She then fished in the toilet and brought out the cockhead,
admiring it for a while. She looked in the medicine cabinet and found a zip-
lock bag that would be perfect for holding them until she could pickle them.
Now it was off to visit the boys.
She opened the door to the first boy's room. It was the 16 year old. She could
see he was wearing a million comforters, it was freezing in his room. She also
saw that he had several housecoats and discarded sheets. She quickly went to
tying his feet and hands to the bedposts with the housecoat ropes and sheets,
very gently so as not to wake him. He must have been a heavy sleeper!! She
then took a sock and stuffed it in his mouth, tying it there to make an
effective gag. Now he began to stir. She pulled the comforters completely off
of him, and to her delight he was naked. She turned on a bedside lamp. His
eyes squinted, he was very confused. He was also freezing, his entire body was
covered in goosebumps. She quickly turned her attention to his member. It was
shrunken from the cold, and she noticed that unlike his dad, he had not been
circumsized. It looked like a mere nub of loose wrinkled flesh. But she was
determined. She got down between his legs, and grabbing his penis between her
thumb and forefinger. She licked at his foreskin. He looked down to see a
middle-aged, yet quite attractive naked woman playing with his privates and,
though quite scared, immediately became excited. She was delighted to see his
cockhead pop out almost instantly and his penis grow until it became of a
rather respectable length, though it did curve in a funny manner to the left.
This didn't bother her, she came for the cockhead, and it was a strange
looking one, the piss-slit was enormous, taking up almost the entire glans.
She was fascinated, usually she took them right away, but this was
interesting. She massaged his shaft, bringing the skin up and down over the
gaping slit. It began to get quite wet, and she noticed his hips moving in
rythm with her stroking. She suddenly had a different urge, something new that
she wanted to try. She opened the scissors.
He was beginning the groan under the sock, his testicles were drawing in and
the precum was starting to flow. She didn't care about making him cum, that
was not her priority. She took the thinner bottom blade of the scissors and
began scraping the large pink opening with the cold metal tip. He moaned
loudly, it hurt but it also sent him into the oncoming waves of orgasm. Just
as he felt the semen rush up his penis, she plunged the blade into his
urethra. She saw his eyes bulge out of his head as pink sperm pushed
forcefully out from around the blade, his urethra ruptured particularly around
the bend in his penis. He cried as loudly as he could as she twisted the blade
inside of him, his cock still trying to cope with a massive orgasm on top of
horrifying pain. She then pushed the blades shut, cutting a slit along the
bottom of his penis. Blood poured out as she dug her nails into the cut to
open up his cock and stick her tongue in to taste all the fluids. Sweat and
tears poured off of him as he passed out, to which she then cut off his
damaged cockhead, sticking it into her bag and moving on.
Now she was at the final room. It was that of the 13 year old. She took all
the things she had used to tie up his brother, and quickly went through the
same steps on him. When he figured out what was going on, he began to
struggle, but it did him little good. Once she had him secured, she pulled off
the covers. He was wearing pajamas. She grabbed around his waitband and pulled
down. His cock flopped out, he had also not been circumsized. When he saw this
naked woman, he, like his brother began to get an erection. The difference
was, since coming into puberty it was realized that he had a condition in
which his foreskin was far too tight, and when erect was virtually impossible
to retract. She noticed his massive erection, quite bigger than his brothers,
but she was dissappointed that his foreskin still clung to her prize. She
grabbed his shaft and pulled down on it, but only managed to reaveal the very
tip. She then grabbed it and pushed down with all her force, causing him to
wail in pain. She managed to expose half his large cockhead, but could see
that it was being tightly squeezed by the skin, and as soon as she let go, and
skin came up and covered it again. She became impatient. She again took the
bottom of the blade, and slid it between his cockhead and his foreskin. His
body tensed as he felt the cold metal against this sensitive region. She then
cut, slicing the foreskin down the side. He screamed pathetically into his
gag, yet he remained erect as she pulled the skin down to reveal the most
beautiful cockhead, shaped like a ripe purple mushroom. This would be her
favorite capture of the night.
She looked at this boy and figured he must surely be a virgin. She decided to
give him his first orgasm before she took him. She went down and engulfed the
still bleeding organ into her mouth, sucking gently on it. The boy fell into
ecstacy, despite the pain that acompanied it. As she continued to suck, she
got ready to take her prize. His hips began to buck and he began to squeal
loudly as she got ready for the rush. She took the closed scissors and slipped
them into his anus, pressing the dull metal end against his prostate. He came
like nothing she had ever seen before, the purple head literally exploding. It
was more than she could take, and as soon as his orgasm hit it's second spurt,
she sucked his foreskin over his cockhead, found the ridge behind his
cockhead, and sunk her teeth into his flesh, both beheading and circumsizing
his cock at the same time. He made the noise of a wounded animal as his body
writhed in unbelievable pain. She spat the glans and severed skin into the
bag, zipped it up, and left the boy to bleed. As she found her way to the
garage and got into her clothes, she knew she would have to find a jar for her
specimens, and quick. She also knew she could not wait to find a place to
materbate while playing with her tiny prizes. It was so good to be out of the
hospital.
* * * |
NEW YEARS DAY | GAY, PENECTOMY | What if your lover had to cut off your cock to save your life. | NEW YEARS DAY
Ted was a pretty average 22 year old guy, graduated from high
school and two years of collage. Ted enjoyed the outdoors more than
anything; camping, fishing, canoe trips in the summer and skiing,
snowmobiling and hokey in the winter. He was pretty much a normal
guy. Well except for one thing maybe; Ted was gay. He'd met his
lover Jay last July on a camping trip. They were both members of
Out-and-about, a group for gay guys who were into the outdoors. Ted
and Jay shared an apartment in the suburbs. Maybe not what you would
expect. Most gays lived downtown. But not Ted and Jay, They weren't
into the bar scene or any of that kind of stuff. No one night stands
for Ted, or Jay. They were genuine lovers. They did have a pet cat,
named "Cat" though.
They had made a few buddy's in there group. Other gay guys who they
got along with really well. There was Mike and Steve and there was
Jeff and Rob. The six of them were planing a snowmobile trip
together that coming winter. Jeff had herd of a place about a two
hour drive north of the city where you could rent a snowmobile and
take off on the trails for a day. Jeff made all the arrangements to
go on new years eve for the day then return to the lodge there by
sunset and enjoy the big new years eve celebration.
The six of them arrived at the lodge early in the morning on
December 31. Much to their surprise the snowmobiles cost more to
rent then they thought. They would have to share. Well you can sit
two on a snowmobile. "It'll be cozy" Jay said. We only need three
for the six of us. The others all agreed. The man at the rental
office gave them a map of the various tails, filled the gas tanks
and the six of them took of into the snow filled wilderness. Jeff
and Rob led the way with Mike and Steve behind them, Ted and Jay
followed in the rear. The six buzzed along the trails of snow
following the trees with the big orange dots painted on them that
marked the trail.
It was a very cold day, but they were all dressed for it. They'd
packed a lunch and brought some brandy along just to keep the chill
off. It was one of those winter days when the sky is blue and the
snow is so white and crisp that looking at it is almost blinding. In
the cold wind it wasn't long before their cheeks began to turn a
rosy red.
Suddenly Ted and Jay's snowmobile began to sputter, something was
wrong. Maybe it was out of gas they thought. But no, They had been
out for about three hours but the gas tank was still half full.
Something else was wrong. The snowmobile Ted and Jay were ridding
came to a sudden stop. They yelled out at the others but the others
couldn't hear them from the noise of there own machines. Ted and Jay
sat there on there snowmobile yelling as they watched their
companions ride off into the distance.
Ted and Jay were alone with a broken snowmobile in the woods, God
knows how far from the lodge. They sat and waited, hoping the others
would look back and discover that they were no longer following and
return for them. So they waited and waited. But there was no sign of
there companions. Hours went bye it seemed, They noticed that they
were no longer on the trail, there were no trees with big orange
dots painted on them. They were lost.
It was starting to get late. The sun was going down and the wind was
getting colder. The two tried pacing back and forth to keep warm. As
the sun sank lower in the sky the temperature plummeted. Ted badly
had to take a piss. He walked over to the nearest tree and unzipped
his fly "ohhhhh" he let out a sigh as his piss ran down the tree.
Jay looked at Ted standing there, The sight of Teds cock out of his
pants always aroused Jay. It was so cold that the urine Ted was
pissing out froze to the tree instantly on contact. Jay went over to
where Ted was pissing and stood behind him. Jay wrapped his arms
around Ted and in a joking voice said "I would love to fuck you
right here" Jay began thrusting his pelvis against Teds. "Quit
jerking around" Ted said in a serious voice "Can't You see I'm
trying to take a leak" Jay laughed and continued thrusting "But I
wanna fuck you, I love your ass" Jay kept doing it, forcing Teds
bare cock against the cold tree "Ok, ok I'll stop, I was just
fooling around" said Jay, as he backed off. Then Ted replied after a
pause " I have a problem". "What" said Jay. "My cock is frozen to
the FUCKING TREE" yelled Ted. Jay bent down to see for himself.
"Your right" he said, as he tried to loosen it "It's frozen solid"
Jay said. "I can't get it off" yelled Ted in an angry voice. "I'll
help you" said Jay.
Jay knelt down and began to suck on Teds cock hopping that the
warm saliva would thaw it.He let his saliva drip all over Teds cock,
but it was no use, Teds cock was frozen solid to the tree. Jay tried
moving his hands rubbing Teds cock but it was no use. "It's so cold"
yelled Ted " I can't feel anything anymore" he cried out. "I just
don't know what to do" said Jay. Jay looked down at Teds cock again
"it's turning black" Jay said to Ted slowly. "You're gonna get frost
bite". "Oh my God" Ted began to cry. Jay began unzipping Teds pants
"your purple all around the base of your cock" Yelled Jay. "Oh it's
frostbite, I could die, don't you see, I could die. "There's only
one thing to do" said Jay as he reached for his pocket knife "I have
to cut it off". What, what are you going to cut off" Jay put the
knife to Teds cock "You could die from frostbite if I don't cut it
off you know" Jay said.
Ted closed his eyes and looked up. It was so cold that Ted didn't
feel a thing. Suddenly Ted stepped back and opened his eyes, he
didn't see his cock protruding from his zipper any more. He looked
at the tree, and there frozen to it was a black piece of flesh, He
looked more closely in disbelief, It looked like his cock. It was
his cock "It was all I could do" said jay "you could die from
frostbite you know"
Story by Brad |
Peter made me his bitch | GAY, STRAIGHT, BI, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION | ` My friend Peter go back a long time, I don't even remember when we met.
Through out the years Peter and I did everything together, we were never
apart. When Peter had girl friens and would go out to dinner and movies I
would always go to. I would do alot for peter If he was hungery I would make
him something to eat or if he his close washed I would do it for him. I liked
doing things like that any ways. Peter new that I was gay and that I loved him
and would do anything for him. He read my dairy but never told me he did. I
wrote alot of things in there like that I wished I was a girl so that Peter
would make love to me and he would let me suck his penis. `
One day Peter and his girl friend broke up and Peter said that was it I'm sick
of all the girls around here! I wish the girls were like you Jason, by the way
my name is Jason. At first I did not know what he ment by that but I would
find out soon. After his brake up Peter was all ways hanging on me like when
we would be watching tv he would sit right next to me and put his arm around
me or when we are in the mall he would put his hand on my shoulder or even one
time he put his hand in my back pocket of my pants while we were walking. I
was not complaining but it was just not like him to do this.
One day Peter said lets go camping, I said that sound fun so we planed to go
for a long weekend. When we got to the camp ground we put up the tent and sent
up the camp. Peter said Jason you get dinner going and I will set up are stuff
in the tent I said ok and began to cook. It was a little cool out so Peter
came out of the tent with a sweat shirt and here I'll help you put this on.
Peter reach and pulled off my shirt and helped me put on the sweat shirt ,
there that feels better don't it? It did but not is much as the feel of Peters
strong hands on my body. We got done with dinner and Peter started a fire and
I sat down on a loung chair. Peter came over to me and said move up a little
and he sat down behind me and then told me to sit back agaist him. He said
this would keep us warmer and it realy did feel good.
Peter put his arms arould me and started to kiss and lick my neck. This was
one of the things I had wrote in mt diary that I just loved. So there we were
just the two of us sitting there and Peter was kissing and licking my neck! I
could not move it felt so good. While Peter was doing that he reached down and
started to rub my penis and he said in to my ear you love this don't you
Jason, all I could do was just nod my head yes. Well you are going to get alot
of this all the rest of the weekend Peter said. I know that you are gay Jason
and that you love me more than anything and you would do anything for me.
Peter then said lets go in to the tent and get more comfortable. I got up and
Peter took my have and lead me in to the tent. When we got in the tent Peter
gave me the biggest kiss on the mouth I had ever had at the same time he
pulled me closer to him and put his hand down on my ass and started to rub. I
could feel his penis getting bigger because he was say close to me. When Peter
got done with the kiss I looked at what he had done with are stuff in the
tent. He had zipped our sleeping bags together and there was four stakes in
the ground by each corner on the sleeping bags. There was a sheet of plastic
on top of them to. Peter then said take off all your close and lay down on the
plastic sheet. I asked him what was going on and he just said take off all
your close and lay down on the plastic sheet and I will tell you in a bit. So
I took off my close and layed down on the plastic sheet. Then Peter tied my
legs and my arms to the stakes, he then put a ball gage in my mouth and tied
it behind my head. Then he put a pillowunder my butt so that my waist was up
off the plastic sheet.
Peter sat down beside me and said: Jason I now you love me and would do
anything for me. I would like you to become my Bitch for ever, but I have to
make sure you will always stay with me and you will not stray to anyone else
like all the girl friend I had. So you are going to give me the gift of your
penis and your balls. I am going to cut them off and keep them in a jar for
ever. You will then be my bitch forever, doing anything and everything I want.
With that Peter took out a bag that had a big knife and said I will not give
you any pain killers because I want you to feel your manhood being cut away
from you. I started to scream but with the ball gag in my mouth nothing came
out. Then Peter got up and put a iron in the fire out side and came back in to
the tent and said lets get you ready. Peter got a razor out of the bag and
begain to shave off all the hair on and around my penis and balls and when he
was done he whipped my penis and balls off with disifectint. He then took out
a long tube that he put into the tip of my penis and pushed it all the way to
my blader this hurt like hell and when he was done with that he said lets get
started. Peter picked up the knife with his right hand and pulled my balls out
from my body with his left hand and thien started to cut my balls off with a
sawing motion till both my balls were free hanging in his hand. All I could do
is just lay there and let him do this to me. There that was not so bad was it,
all most done and with that he pulled out mt penis and cut it through to the
tub and pulled it off the end of the tub. Then Peter went out to the fire and
got the iron and came back in and put the white hot iron on my crotch to stop
the bleeding, that is when I pasted out. When I woke up It was morning and
Peter was sitting next to me and said hows my little bitch this morning. i
said i hirt like hell in my crotch. Peter then gave me a pain killer and told
me to go back to sleep I did.
I have been Peters bitch for just about one year now and I love it. I feel
like A girl with out my penis and balls and Peter went out and bought me girls
close like pink panty and dresses that I ware now. Peter love to fuck me and
to have me suck his penis and I love doing it to. I just love to take care of
my man Peter.
THE END
* * * |
|
Cleopatra The Emasculator Returns | STRAIGHT, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, MINOR | Another short (!) straight (!!!!) story by Pueros – he’s obviously suffered a medical relapse!(Author’s note:- the tale deliberately includes slightly adapted extracts from the first ‘Cleopatra’ tale, included not because of literary laziness but to illustrate that the Queen’s seduction/castration techniques remained generally similar!) | ` CLEOPATRA THE EMASCULATOR RETURNS `
by Pueros
The Queen Cleopatra most known to people today was actually the 6th Egyptian
monarch to bear that name, just as her father and brother were two of many
Ptolemys. However, this story concerns some of their ancestors who lived
almost a couple of hundred years earlier and around whom certain historical
rumours circulate.
(Egypt, 2nd century B.C.)
Cleopatra had returned to Alexandria. Her husband/brother Ptolemy had died
unexpectedly, being found dead in bed after another night of passion with a
couple of members of his boy harem. Both youths had quickly followed their
Pharaoh into the afterlife for failing to protect their royal and sacred
master.
The Queen was to oversight the funereal arrangements and then the coronation
of her only child, yet another Ptolemy, as the new Pharaoh. She would then
rule the country as regent until her 9 years old son was old enough to assume
power.
The current royal Egyptian line was Greek, being incestuously descended from
Alexander the Great’s half-brother, Ptolemy I, and so did not follow the
penchants of previous dynasties for burial in pyramids or the Valley of the
Kings. They were entombed instead near the current capital in structures that
would not resist plundering and destruction over later centuries. They also
did not follow previous practices that insisted that certain retainers
accompany Pharaohs to their tombs. Nevertheless, Cleopatra had decided that
there should be certain losses amongst her late unlamented husband/brother’s
large retinue of servants. She was, after all, still deeply hurt by her loss
of fertility and furious with the arrogant misogynistic role men played not
only in her own life but within the whole of Egyptian society.
The Queen had the late Pharaoh’s remaining boy harem brought before her. The
word ‘boy’ for the collection of young handsome males that Cleopatra carefully
inspected was, she considered, a misnomer all were youths aged about 16,
matching her late husband/brother’s taste. All were traditionally dressed in
simple short white pleated skirts, although made of expensively rich material,
with hair groomed in a neat bowl fashion. As was also customary, none
possessed body hair anywhere, any trying to form being shaved away. There were
ten surviving members of the harem and so their Queen declared ten days of
official mourning for the late monarch before such sullenness could be ended
with her son’s formal ascension to the throne.
(1st day of mourning)
The first chosen catamite was brought before the Queen in her large and ornate
boudoir and he prostrated before her before being commanded by a quiet
seductive female voice to stand. When the youth did so, he found that he had
been left alone with the Queen, who was seated on a marble throne several
paces behind which was a large splendidly draped bed.
The youth was grateful that the tightness of his skimpy attire prevented his
erection from being too noticeable as he gained his second full sight of the
beautiful 27 years old woman before him. She too had dark sparkling eyes and
straight black hair, but the latter was coiffured in the traditional Egyptian
style of royal females. The perfect curves of her immaculately proportioned
body were easily surmised because her only garb was a tight sleeveless white
dress, its single adornment being a broach containing a large ruby. The
garment extended to the floor but had a long slit at the front running
downwards from just below her loins, allowing her smooth lithe legs to be
visible. However, what most intrigued the 16 years old, causing his face to
blush and produce some beads of sweat, as well as his erection to quiver, was
the dress’ very low-cut top. This revealed most of the fulsome splendours of
her firm magnificent breasts, the tops of her nipples being visible whilst the
remainder were clearly outlined under the taut covering material.
Cleopatra said nothing but just looked at the catamite’s own lovely form,
happy to notice the slight protuberance at the front of his skirt and the
obvious signs of intense desire in his eyes and on his face. The Queen then
stood up and began to walk slowly around the nervous youth, viewing him from
every perspective and intensifying the tingling sensations that were searing
through his young body.
Cleopatra returned to the catamite’s front and advanced towards him, grasping
the buckle that held his skirt in place. The surprised and embarrassed youth
was powerless to prevent his Queen from releasing the clasp to allow his only
cover to fall to the floor. A large full erection popped into view. The 16
years old closed his eyes in shame only to reopen them when he felt a nail
running along his hard cock’s full length. The 27 years old monarch was
playing with his penis.
Cleopatra continued to run the nail of her right forefinger gently up and down
all sides of the catamite’s cock until it was pointing vertically and drooling
precum. The Queen then gradually moved the digit’s attentions upwards through
his navel and to each tit, before moving behind the youth to tantalise his
spinal cord, buttocks and bumcrack, lingering at his pink sphincter.
The catamite was close to cumming but Cleopatra was expert at noticing the
warning signs and so stopped her explorations. The Queen returned again to the
intensely excited youth’s front and, standing before him, slid her dress over
her shoulders and pulled it downwards so that her own only cover also fell to
the floor. The 16 years old almost fainted in shock as the unparalleled
magnificence of the woman’s naked form was revealed, especially the sublime
orbs that comprised her curvaceous breasts and the little triangle of pubic
hair that hid that which his rampant cock most desired.
Cleopatra approached the catamite and delicately grasped his damp vertical
cockhead, repositioning it in a horizontal position, and invoked without a
word an unanswerable command. The Queen began to gingerly pull the tremulous
youth by his engorged penis towards the bed. As they proceeded, the 16 years
old appreciated for the first time the unsurpassed glory of the creamy curves
of the woman’s sublime bottom.
The Queen commanded the catamite to lie face-up on the bed. She collected a
light wooden box, encrusted with jewels, from a nearby table. The youth
recognised that it was the container that had held some of the late Pharaoh’s
sex toys. Cleopatra opened the box and withdrew a gilded cord.
Without speaking, the naked Queen knelt to tie the cord to the catamite’s left
wrist, causing his hard cock to quiver and drool more precum at the touch of
her delicate hands. Cleopatra noticed the reaction, smiled enchantingly and
leant over to give the youth a fulsome kiss. The feel of his Queen’s lips
pressed against his own, with her tongue beginning to explore the innards of
his young mouth, adding to the sensations resulting from her breasts also
lying against his chest, almost caused the 16 years old to cum.
The Queen eventually stood again, having attached the other end of the cord to
a bedpost, and removed another similar tie from the box. She then walked to
the other side of the bed. The catamite’s eyes soaked in her immaculate form
as she proceeded. Cleopatra noticed that the youth’s throbbing cock was
pointing rigidly towards his navel, which had turned into a little lake of
precum.
The naked Queen soon had the catamite’s arms and legs firmly tied to the four
bedposts but the youth was not afraid for her late husband/brother had often
enjoyed sexplay in this manner. The 16 years old’s unconcern seemed justified
when Cleopatra knelt on the huge bed between his splayed legs and delicately
moved his cock to the vertical before engulfing its damp rigidity in her
mouth.
The catamite writhed in pleasure and knew that he could not prevent climax for
too long as the expert oral ministrations to his engorged penis continued. He
uttered low moans as his loins began to boil and, despite the bondage, began
to rise from the bed whilst the copious sperm in his ball sac started to seek
escape. The Queen recognised the signs and released the expectant member. She
was rewarded with the sight of semen spurting directly upwards before gravity
made it return in a wide arc to its producer, whose genitals, belly, chest and
face were soon splashed with the white creamy fluid.
The naked Queen’s enchanting smile returned before she undertook, with great
deliberation, the cleansing of the catamite’s body, using her tongue. She
first licked the youth’s face free of his semen before moving downwards. The
16 years old’s cock was rock-hard again by the time that Cleopatra was sucking
it clean.
Task not only to tidy up the catamite but also to reinvigorate him
accomplished, the Queen, still kneeling between the youth’s splayed legs,
returned her attentions to his lips. Their kissing was long and passionate,
with the 16 years old’s desires fully restored as he felt Cleopatra’s firm
breasts resting against him again, accompanied this time by the feel of her
pubic hair against his throbbing cock.
Whilst the kissing intensified in passion, the Queen began to tease the
catamite’s excited member by regularly introducing her vaginal opening to the
tip of his penis before finally relenting from this torture and impaling
herself on the large erection. Cleopatra then lifted and lowered herself with
rhythmic frequency to achieve her own orgasm, indicated by breathless groans,
an intensifying of the rigidity of her tits and a quivering of her whole body.
Recognition of his Queen’s acute pleasure caused the youth to cum inside her.
Having regained her composure, the Queen removed herself from the bed to stand
at its foot. She observed the beautiful form of the blushing catamite, his
eyes tearful through ecstasy, chest pounding and cock still erect, apparently
wanting more. Cleopatra eventually broke the silence by stating “You have a
choice to make and you must make that choice now. You may have my ruby broach
and depart royal service immediately in freedom or you may remain my slave for
life. You will then serve me like all my other special slaves.” The youth knew
that the value of the jewel would enrich him and his family.
The naked Queen collected the broach from her discarded dress and sat on the
side of the bed to show it to the catamite in her left hand as her right
forefinger gently teased his quaking cock. “What is your answer?” Cleopatra
already knew what it would be from the youth’s expression.
Having secured the desired affirmative answer, the Queen removed another item
from the box of sexual playthings, a very sharp knife. She returned to sit
next to the catamite on the bed. He remained unafraid, expecting the weapon to
be used to remove him from his bondage. However, it was to be utilised to
remove something else.
The naked Queen fingered the delicious genitalia one last time before grasping
the youth’s throbbing cock firmly with her left hand and placing the blade of
the knife, held in her right hand, against the underside base of his scrotum.
She leant forward slowly to kiss the suddenly puzzled 16 years old, happily
observing again the still noticeable look of infatuated love in his lovely
eyes as she did so. As their lips met, the Queen began her expert well-
practised incision. Semen spurted into her left hand and blood poured into her
right as the knife made swift progress. By the time the kiss was ended, the
shocked and appalled catamite’s genitals had been severed and he was ready to
utter his delayed agonised screams.
Cleopatra ignored the yelling and associated tears whilst she held up the
severed organs, dripping youthful semen and blood, to carefully examine them
before placing them in a bowl retrieved from the box. The Queen then detached
an illuminating torch from the wall and used it to cauterise the new eunuch’s
terrible wound before replacing the flaming implement and departing the scene.
It would be a few years before the recovered youth was again in the presence
of his Queen, as his first assignment as a nullified eunuch slave was to
perform menial work in the palace gardens.
(2nd day of mourning)
The naked Queen collected the broach from her discarded dress and sat on the
side of the bed to show it to the catamite in her left hand as her right
forefinger gently teased his quaking cock. “What is your answer?” Cleopatra
already knew what it would be from the youth’s expression.
Having secured the undesired negative answer, the Queen removed another item
from the box of sexual playthings, a very sharp knife. She returned to sit
next to the catamite on the bed. He remained unafraid, expecting the weapon to
be used to remove him from his bondage. However, it was to be utilised to
remove something else.
The naked Queen fingered the delicious genitalia one last time before grasping
the youth’s throbbing cock firmly with her left hand and placing the blade of
the knife, held in her right hand, against the underside base of his penis.
She leant forward slowly to kiss the suddenly puzzled 16 years old, unhappily
observing again the still noticeable look of love for another in his lovely
eyes as she did so. As their lips met, Cleopatra began her inexpert little-
practised incision. Semen spurted into her left hand and blood poured into her
right as the knife made swift but clumsy progress. By the time the kiss was
ended, the shocked and appalled catamite’s scrotum had been sliced open and he
was ready to utter his delayed agonised screams as his Queen searched for the
testicles that she wanted to sever.
(3rd day of mourning)
The third catamite was an altogether different specimen of youth for his acute
homosexuality had prevented any arousal whatsoever.
The naked Queen fingered the delicious genitalia one last time before grasping
the youth’s flaccid cock firmly with her left hand and placing the blade of
the knife, held in her right hand, against the underside base of his penis.
She leant forward slowly to kiss the suddenly puzzled 16 years old, unhappily
observing again the still noticeable look of disgust at the female form in his
lovely eyes as she did so. As their lips met, Cleopatra began her inexpert
little-practised incision. Semen did not spurt into her left hand but blood
did pour into her right as the knife made swift but clumsy progress. By the
time the kiss was ended, the shocked and appalled catamite’s penis had been
severed and he was ready to utter his delayed agonised screams.
(4th day of mourning)
The naked Queen fingered the delicious genitalia one last time before ignoring
the youth’s throbbing cock and tying a cord extremely tightly around the
underside base of his ball sac. She leant forward slowly to kiss the suddenly
puzzled 16 years old, unhappily observing again the look of love for family in
his lovely eyes as she did so. As their lips met, Cleopatra knew that it would
not be too long before he was ready to utter his delayed agonised screams as
the lack of bloodflow to his ball sac began to take affect. The 2nd catamite
was dying slowly as a result of her clumsy gelding and the Queen did not wish
to repeat her mistake as she wanted her victims to live to enjoy their
emasculation. She had therefore chosen an easier and less dangerous, although
even more painful, method of unmanning those who resisted her charms and
accepted her broach.
(5th day of mourning)
The naked Queen fingered the delicious genitalia one last time, realising that
there were still another five days of mourning to come.
THE END
of
CLEOPATRA THE EMASCULATOR RETURNS
by Pueros
* * * |
The Answer | STRAIGHT, MINOR | Watch your ass in Central America | ` [SNUFF]`
Robert, an overweight, balding, orthodontist from Cleveland, looked out the
window of his hotel in the Central American city, as he had done every day for
the last week.
The object of his attention was a group of raggedly dressed street urchins
begging for money as they made their way to the seawall for their daily swim.
Robert picked up his nearby binoculars and began to masurbate as the boys, all
under the age of twelve, shed their rags with the carefree abandonment of
children and splashed naked in the warm water.
The oldest of the lads was of particular interest to Robert as he, unlike the
others, had the blonde hair and fair complexion of a North American. The boy,
who like his companions possessed no pubic hair, was obviously only a few
months from adolescence as evidenced by his larger cock and lower hanging
balls. Soon, thought Robert, beginning to breath hard, the boy would be too
embarrassed by his emerging sexuallity to be seen in public nude.
The boys dressed and headed back up the street as Robert cleaned himself up
and hurried down to his usual table at the sidewalk cafe.
"Do you speak English?" Robert inquired as the blonde boy reached for the
proffered coin.
"A little, senor."
"What is your mother's name?"
"She is dead." the boy answered with a forlorn look.
"Your father?" Robert pried.
"I live in the barrio with my uncle and cousins." the boy replied, and
gestured to his companions while ignoring the reference to his unknown father.
" I am called Poco. My uncle is Julio, and cleans at the town hall."
"Wait here." commanded Robert before Rushing away. He soon returned with a
sealed envelope addressed to the boy's uncle.
"Take this to your uncle. Do not open it." Robert instructed.
The envelope contained a one hundred dollar bill and a letter.
"Dear Mr. Ramirez," the letter began, "I am what is called in your country a
maricon, or homosexual. I have considerable wealth, and would like you to
consider this offer. I will adopt your nephew, return with him to the United
States, and provide excellent care for him. He will recieve a fine education
and will be free to return home at any time he wishes. Six years from now,
when he is about eighteen, he will be paid ten thousand dollars, and every
month until that time you will recieve one hundred dollars. I will love him as
only a man can love a boy, and teach him to return that love to me. In
exchange for his virginity and the use of his body for a few years I will give
him a good home and education, as well as some of the finer things in life
that you could never offer him. Please give me an answer by the end of this
week, as I must soon return home."
Robert's present companion, a former homeless boy who was now seventeen, was
tired of the arrangement and wanted to include girls as recipients of his
copious quantities of seed. He was also aquiring the coarse body hair and deep
voice of an adult, which Robert despised.
Robert was dozing a few nights later when he was awakened by a faint knock on
his door.
"It is me, senor," came the lilting voice of Poco, "and I have your answer!"
Robert had just released the burglar chain when the door was suddenly forced
open.
"This is my uncle Julio," the lad proudly announced, gesturing to a small man
in ragged clothes, "and these are my other uncles, Ramon, Ruiz, and
Guillermo." He nodded towards the other men, who were all dressed in the drum
major uniforms common to police all over Central America.
"So, gringo, you like to have round, long, hard object thrust up your ass?"
The largest policemen queried as his brothers stripped Robert and bent him
over the edge of the bed. "Let,s try this for size." He then grabbed an empty
beer bottle and rammed it home before shattering it with a blow from his
pistol.
"If you like the taste of sperm you,ll love this taste!" Julio said as his
brothers rolled the hapless molester over and pried his legs apart to enable
the largest policeman to sever his srotum and and ram it down his thraot,
assisted by the gun barrel.
"You like to suck little cock? try this one." were the last words Robert heard
before hid penis was carved from his body and joined its rightful place above
his balls.
Robert, blue-face and dying, sprawled on the bloody bed. The large policeman
collected his wallet, passport, and money belt, then phoned the hotel manager.
"Security Chief Ramirez, sir. We have another robbery in room 209. Yes sir, it
was like the others. Looks like a gay lovers quarrel. Yes sir, I agree. No use
involving the police. Good night, sir."
"Lets go home, poco," he said, tousling his favorite nephew's blonde hair, "if
we hurry, we can still catch The Brady Bunch on the new TV."
Author's note: Poco, the boy's nickname, came from a small local fish. It is
useless for food, but its' golden color makes it highly prized as bait by the
local fishermen.
* * * |
A N.I.C.E. Boy, Part 2 | TESTICLES, MINOR | ` A N.I.C.E. Boy, Part 2 `
President's Healthy Nation Act Derailed.
Washington Herald, March 2, 2004
In a surprise maneuver worthy of the Italian genius of subterfuge and
political
cunning, Machiavelli, Congressman Dustin Lane of Illinois managed to derail
President Holly Denton's comprehensive Health Nation Act. The legislative
package was to set up a system of health delivery for all people that provided
equitable and free treatment for all essential health services regardless of
income or nationality. This would have had the effect of eliminating the
access
that wealthy Americans enjoy for superior health care. It would also provide
free health care for all visitors and others who have come the U.S.
Non-essential health services would be priced according to the tax status of
the
individual receiving treatment.
While the Act was finally passed shortly before 10.00 p.m., it was only after
key parts were deleted or changed. These included modifying the migration
status
limitation. "At first glance it is easy to believe the Healthy Nation Act is
highly desirable. The media's images of the little Navajo boy in Arizona, the
baby in Missouri, and the elderly couple in Florida, have created a great deal
of sympathy to the issues of health problems going untreated. However, this is
without a doubt one of the most outrageous, misguided pieces of legislation
that
has ever been brought before Congress. If we don't eliminate some of its
provisions we will be providing health services to the rest of the world,"
Congressman Lane said. "Any illegal alien, any visitor, will be able to demand
the best health treatment that the country has to offer, and at no cost to
themselves."
It was only with the greatest guile and political shrewdness that Lane was
able
to remove the highly popular genetic testing and database provisions. The
supporters of HNA argued that this was crucial to providing centralized
support
of the newly created health management system and to achieving the
breakthroughs
in treatment that justified setting up the system in the first place. Mario
Gondesonas, the 55-year-old Congressman from Southern California, and Chairman
of the House Committee on Health Reform was not prepared for the opposition
from
both sides of the floor that Lane managed to create. "In this day and age, we
must talk about universal health management, not merely providing subsidized
medical services to those who cannot afford their own. Without using the
latest
in scientific research, we are unable to detect the health patterns that
affect
our entire country," Gondesonas said. "America is crying out for legislation
that guarantees equitable health for every man, woman and child, regardless of
age, income, and immigration status. I cannot abide the un-American
mean-spirited attitude that prevails among the independent and junior members
of
Congress," he said referring to the supporters of Congressman Lane.
Gondesonas said he was shocked at the amount of opposition to genetic testing.
"The solution to all of our health problems is technology. This would have
enabled doctors to see problems before they become widespread. Instead of
treating the disease, we could treat people's susceptibility to the disease.
The
best offense always starts with a good defense. I fail to see how genetic
testing could adversely affect our civil liberties. It is goes against common
sense." It had been expected that this part of the bill would cause few
problems. Instead, House Democrats had anticipated some Republican opposition
to
the income provisions and had prepared themselves for a vicious fight. The
opposition began as the familiar Republican filibuster that quickly became an
extraordinary use of privilege when the control of the floor was handed to
independent Congressman Lane. In a ten- minute speech, he referred to the
health
plan as a ill-advised attempt to institute mediocre medical treatment.
"Government has no business legislating the standard of health care when it
does
little more than pay lip-service to the power of competition in improving
quality. The fact is there are not enough doctors and nurses, and a genetic
database won't change that. The authors of this act have used genetic testing
as
a panacea, as if it will solve the inherent problems at forty years of
mismanagement by our health insurance companies. What this country needs is
better access not greater control. The genetic database provision reeks of
Orwell's 1984. Putting this sort of information into a readily accessible
computer is tantamount to putting government and the insurance companies in
charge of our daily lives. The best way to improve our health system is by
reducing the role of the insurance companies in determining what treatments
are
available, by training more doctors who are better rewarded, and by building a
system of health clinics to reach people who are ill-served by the emergency
room at their local hospital."
Chapter 2. West Wing, White House. March 9th, 2004
"'s simple, real simple," James Hackman said as he strutted across the floor,
peacock-style. Although his dull grey suit was hardly flamboyant, his manner
was.
She finished reading the document he had handed to her when he had entered the
room. She looked up as the Vice President dropped into the seat and stretched
out his legs, making himself comfortable without an invitation. She observed
little to respect. He was coarse and undignified, despite the way he acted.
Indeed, her critics had scorned their political partnership. Some referred to
it
as 'a marriage of exigency'. Perhaps they were right she thought as she
wondered
whether he realized she loathed him.
"Simple? Hardly, James. Don't you realize that you're suggesting? It's,...
It's
ridiculous, " she scoffed at him, her tone dismissive.
"Of course I realize what a'm a suggestin', Holly. You ass me to look into
tha'
problem. So I done that. We work 'n it fer six months now. And you know good
's
me wha's at stake. Ah've given this a great deal `a effort. This is far tha'
best approach `at committee's come up wid. `n fact is, I cain't say I dis'gree
with `eir `clusion."
He stopped then, proudly surveying the document on the low coffee table before
him. He could tell that the table was old and very expensive just by looking
at
it. The dark lacquer, the intricate inlaid woods, the precious stones around
the
sculpted edge. It was a gift from the Chinese Association of Textile
Manufacturers from when they had stayed at the White House a few months
earlier.
Supposedly, it dated from the Ming Dynasty.
"For Christ's sake. It'll never get through Congress," she said abruptly.
"I think it will."
He had never addressed her as Madam President, although that was the
appropriate
etiquette. James Hackman had a problem with smart white women, and
unfortunately
for him, the President was smarter than most of them.
"It depends how we sell it. I got tha' numbers studied `n they ain't even
close
to stoppin' us. Fact is, no one likes a goddamn sex deviate. People wants
these
perverts gone fer good. Tha's a fact."
"Well, that's true enough," the President agreed. "I was watching Oprah today.
She didn't have good word to say for them."
"We cud jail `em all `nstead, but it cost a darn sight more."
"It's not impossible," President Denton said with a hint of a smile. "With the
two strikes law, we'd be rid of them for a long, long time."
"Time we crack'd down. Some a' 'em is even gettin' out from tha' big Can'yman
porn sweep in '02 `cause some judges is goin' easy. They ought to be goin'
down
fer life and some's doin' a coupla years a' most. `sa disgrace."
"I agree we need to do something, James, and this is as good a time as any to
do
it. We got elected because we promised a Just and Fair America! We have to do
something about crime, however, I don't think singling out one group like this
is all that we have to do. Even if they are pedophiles!"
"Hell, they's evil. They's worse than bein' gay! They get they's rocks off by
fuckin' kids. Sorry, 'olly."
"Apology accepted. Just don't forget that the gay community helped to get us
in
here," she reminded him. "The fact that you don't like them is neither here
nor
there. They're expecting us to pass a same-sex marriage law and add them as a
protected class to the Civil Rights Act. Damn it, this goes directly against
that."
"Do it?' The Vice-President laughed. "Most gays dis'sociate from pedophiles.
Talk `bout tha' pot callin' tha' kettle black."
"Be that as it may, we still owe them something. They carried California for
us."
"So they get wha' they wan'. We get wha' we wan'. If we do everythin' what
they
wan', they'll be right behin' us on 'is."
"I expect you're right about that, James. I just can't help feeling that this
proposal is too radical."
"Ah'm not sayin' we git the knives out right away `n start slicin' off nuts.
Hell no! `n we certainly cain't require it by law or the fuckin' civil liberty
peoples gonna be all over us. We gotta finesse this show and do it right, even
if we go slow fer a while."
"If they ever manage to tie up with the gay contingent,..." she thought aloud.
"See, tha's why we gotta git rid of `em before they git up `n going `gain."
"There's still way too many gays for my taste, even after the AIDS thing got a
lot of them," the President agreed with a smirk. There was a story to be told
there. "They've still got the power to control this country and they don't
even
know it."
"More `n likely the fags'll shut up, like I say, `specially if we pass tha'
same-sex leg'slation."
"I agree. Mostly, I'm worried that the press will have a field day. "First
Woman
President Orders Castration of Boys. It sounds terrible!"
The Vice-President laughed. "They ain't gonna do that. Look at them numbers,
Holly. We trade maybe some bad press for the Christian Fundamentalists. We
pick
up ten southern states and a big chunk a' the Midwest, and worse come to
worse,
maybe we lose California."
"I've looked, James. But they supported me. I just can't.... What do the votes
look like?" she asked in an effort to get back on task.
"We can get just `bout every woman from both side to s'pport us just `cause of
yo' positi'n. It's `bout woman issues `n all. It's about keepin' families
safe.
We get most if not all of tha' non-whities `causa me. We'll get a lotta s'port
too, just cause most people hates fags, and they don't give a damn `bout `em,
even as kids. Tha' senior vote `ll come in too fer much tha' same reason. Add
to
that we got tha' white male vote from the unions, and the religious vote like
I
just said. Put `em all `gether `n I believe it'll pass with least a thirty
`cent
`jority in tha' `ouse. It's like to be a mite higher in the Senate."
"That high?" she asked incredulously.
"Of course, there's gonna be some `sistance from tha' west coast `cause they's
so many goddamn intellectuals out there. Might even cost us New York, I
`magine.
They don't see th' difference `tween doin' it with a man or boy, I guess.
We'll
stop of lot of tha' gay vote from goin' west with tha' same-sex law. Pity,
`cause they voted fer us' but it's not much to lose when we gain three more
terms."
"You're probably right," the President agreed. There was truth in what he
said.
It was a hot issue and people wanted action.
"Course I am."
"Hm,... And you really think the American people will sit still and let this
happen? To systematically sterilize 3,000 boys a year who carry the da Vinci
gene in order to eliminate pedophilia? Even if they aren't going to be
criminals
themselves?"
He poured himself more tea and slowly stirred in cream and sugar. Tea tasted
like `piss', but she drank it, so he had to as well. A Gallup Poll had been
conducted using questions about sex crimes mixed in with injustice and
inequality for different social groups. 95 percent of those surveyed supported
unidentified measures that could achieve the elimination of alternative
undesirable sexualities on a permanent basis. However, unidentified measures
were very different to the drastic action called for in the proposal. He
shrugged.
"I got it figured. Ta' win we gotta give some `way, right? Make it look better
on tha' face. It's gotta look right. People knows it's worse `n homosexuals,
but
they're gonna say cuttin' off some kid's balls ain't the way to stop it.
Pedophilia's an abomination `gains' `manity. `gainst the very principles our
forefathers stood fer. It's `gains' nature," he said as eloquently as
possible,
deliberating leaving out God for the moment.
"What do you have in mind?"
He smirked. "The act don't have'ta say shit about castratin' `em, right? We
set
up an independen' agency. We give `em the goal of gettin' rid of deviant
behavior and let `em go."
"And we load the Agency with people who appreciate what has to happen," the
President finished with a knowing smile. "I think you've got it, James."
"Damn right! I know just the person, too. He got hisself a reputation huntin'
down pedophiles a coupla years back. He took down some boy-fuckin' Judge in
California. Some other perverts too. One boy-fucker even su'cided after they
found `im in'cent. He's the man to clean out tha' swamp."
The President smiled and nodded. She had all but given up any chance of
getting
elected, that was until James Hackman approached her. He knew how to win. The
people had a short memory for some things and a long memory for others. The
trick was knowing how to play the game. She was in his debt and both of them
knew it.
"Personally, I loathe them as much as you do, James! If I had a chance, I'd
castrate most men. It wouldn't matter whether they were pedophiles or not. I
certainly wouldn't mind doing my ex-husband's miserable balls, even though
he's
not into boys as far as I know!"
The Vice President laughed weakly. There had been a rumor, but nothing more
than
that. Her husband had been present at Jack Seidelman's house in Cincinnati
when
he died of a suppsoed heart attack. By itself it did not mean much, but there
was a report that had come into his hands by illicit means suggesting that a
young boy, blond, blue-eyed and very good looking, had been present at the
time.
Plus, the CIA had been involved. He put the thought aside and placed his
dark-skinned hand on the sheaf of papers that represented the new act. It was
time.
"This's God's will, Holly. We got a chance `ere to fix thin's. There ain't no
better time to do this. We can finish what AIDS missed. Tha' country'll thank
us. Maybe a few people gonna gripe about kids losing their balls, but there
won't be no pedophiles left in a coupla generations."
"But no more da Vinci's either." She could not help sounding regretful, not
after her recent trip to Italy and the Vatican. "Give it to me." She held out
her hand, opened the document to the second page and read aloud.
"PREAMBLE
Whereas this great nation is founded on the principle of equality, and that
recognition of the inherent equal and inalienable rights of all members of the
human family is the foundation of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness,
"Whereas disregard and contempt for the rights of others has resulted in
barbarous acts which have outraged the conscience of this country,..."
She looked up and smiled. "Oh, I like that. A nice touch referring to that
serial murderer down south."
"Ah thought of tha' myself. He killed them ten boys. People don't ferget
thin's
like tha'."
"Excellent-Ah, where was I up to? .... and to create a world in which all
human
beings shall have the right to fulfill their dreams, to enjoy freedom of
belief
and freedom from fear of discrimination and physical threat,
"Whereas the children of this country represent its greatest asset, and are
its
future, and whereas sexual crimes against children constitute the most
egregious
and hideous crimes and can no longer be tolerated.
"Whereas it is essential, if man is to have recourse against evil and depraved
actions that harm the children of our great nation, and as a last resort, to
stop the continued oppression of children through wicked acts by those who
possess by virtue of biological inheritance, certain genetic flaws that
predispose him to deviant and dangerous behavior,
"Whereas the peoples of the United States of America have reaffirmed their
faith
in fundamental human rights, in the dignity and worth of the all people
regardless of sexual orientation and in the equal rights of all men and women
and have determined to promote social progress and better standards of life,
Now, Therefore we proclaim this the Act, our Nation's NATURAL INTERVENTION TO
CONQUER EVIL....."
She stopped, thinking. Capitals always drew attention. A person had to be very
careful using capital letters when sending something to the Congress.
"Yeah? What is it?" He sounded petulant. This was the best part. He had
written
most of that paragraph himself.
"Conquer?" she repeated. "It won't do. It reeks of my predecessor. Hm.... But
I
do like the acronym, NICE. A `C' word? Control? To control evil. Still doesn't
sound right. Controlling isn't enough. We want to do more than just control
it.
We want to get rid of it once and for all."
"How 'bout um,... cure?" James offered graciously. His vocabulary was limited.
"Cure? But we aren't curing anything, are we, not in a medical sense at least.
It would be misleading. Hm,... Curb? To curb evil? Much better!" she
exclaimed.
After a moment, she glanced down again. N.I.C.E. It had a nice ring to it. It
sounded innocuous. Nice, not evil. Natural intervention to curb evil.
"To achieve the universal goals of life, liberty, and happiness, every organ
of
our society, keeping this Act constantly in mind, shall strive by its actions
to
promote respect for these rights and freedoms and by progressive measures, to
secure the same rights for all regardless of their sexual orientation,
notwithstanding that those few individuals deemed by our society to possess
genetic defects that render them dangerous to society at birth, shall be
provided with the opportunity to effect a permanent remedy and to make a
positive contribution to society."
The President ceased reading and looked up. She beamed. "It might just work.
We
give with one hand and take away with the other. It's a very small price to
pay."
"Tha's wha' I figured. Go on, it gets better."
"Article 1. Except as excluded under Article 3, all people are entitled to all
the rights and freedoms set forth in this Act, without distinction of any
kind,
including sexual orientation,
"Article 2. All people are born free and equal and have the same right to a
life
of happiness regardless of sexual orientation. They are endowed with reason
and
moral conscience, and subject to their own religious beliefs, should act
towards
one another in a spirit of brotherhood. Such consensual relationships as may
be
formed as partnerships under this Act shall be recognized by all government
bodies and have the full force of law."
That legitimized gay marriage. She smiled ambiguously. The gay population
would
be ecstatic. Of course, with the full force of the law behind them, they would
be allowed to adopt. That might be problematic. Some people. the righteous
right, would complain vociferously.
"Article 3. Those people who are identified as having genetic defects that
cause
them to endanger others through depraved acts, in particular acts against
children, shall be provided with the opportunity of redressing their
deficiencies in the most efficacious manner, with the understanding that such
treatments are voluntary, but which in order to attain the rights and
privileges
of society, must effect a comprehensive and permanent remedy that can be
verified by examination. In the case of minors, the child's legal guardians
shall have sole responsibility for whatever action is deemed desirable. In the
case of adults, registration and treatment is discretionary, but for convicted
sex offenders, they shall be subject such action as may be mandated by the
tribunal herein described."
"What sort of treatment are we talking about?"
That was the question everyone would ask. There was only one treatment.
Castration. It was so barbaric. It was the sort of thing one did to slaves, or
to anyone with genetic deficiencies. Jews, gypsies, homosexuals, the mentally
retarded, anyone who could be considered undesirable, the Nazis were prepared
to
eliminate all of them. If Adolf Hitler had won the war, it was likely that
anyone who wasn't the perfect blond-headed, blue-eyed Aryan would have been
sterilized.
Hackman hesitated to answer. He sipped his tea, even though he hated the
taste.
The sugar helped. At least it wasn't bitter. Finally, he had to answer or
appear
stupid.
"It don't say," he remarked.
"Well, I know that. That's why I'm asking."
Again, not for the first time, she wondered why she had allowed him to be her
running mate. What an idiotic expression? They had jogged together once for
the
press. That was as far as `running mate' extended. There was some innuendo
from
the conservative commentators, a few jokes on the late night television shows.
It was an understatement to say that his reputation preceded him. The mere
thought of getting into bed with him turned her stomach.
"Gotta be perm'net and compa'hensive. Boy's gotta lose `is balls fer it t'be
perm'net," he said nonchalantly. "Ain't no other way."
She gave him an irritated expression. "It won't fly. The AMA will scream
`Hippocratic Oath.'"
"They's tha' alright, damned hip-crits, all a 'em, even wi'out no oath."
She was exasperated, but she kept it hidden. "Do no harm," she explained
patiently. He still did not 'get it'. "They won't participate, James. Not if
in
means cutting of a boy's testicles."
"Don't have'ta cut `em off," James Hackman smirked. "I `eard they's got other
ways. 'njections 'n such. Or we do 'em like cows. They got some kinda farm
tool
fer 'em."
For a moment, she wanted to wipe the snide smirk off his face. It was too late
to change things now. She was stuck with him for the best part of three years.
No doubt there were other ways of achieving sterility. She continued reading.
"Article 4. Everyone has the right to life, liberty and security of person
with
the understanding that the right to reproduce and develop to sexual maturity
and
to engage in acts of intercourse is not protected by the rule of law when a
person has the potential to endanger children,
"Article 5. To achieve the purpose of this Act, an unaffiliated Agency will be
established, to be directed by a competent tribunal appointed by the President
or designee, and approved by the Congress of the United States of America; and
shall have all of the rights, responsibilities, and roles granted by the
Constitution or by Federal law.
"Article 6. This Act shall extend to minors and adults who have effected
treatment of said genetic deficiencies as covered under Article 3, all of the
rights, responsibilities and opportunities for the expression of free will in
the pursuit of happiness as accorded to other citizens not so afflicted."
"What does that mean?" she asked pointedly.
Hackman shrugged vaguely. He could not remember how Article 6 was derived or
what it was there for. It was not his idea, but he could not remember who had
suggested it. The President watched him for a moment and then gave up waiting
for a response.
"At first glance it's almost void for vagueness. However, it seems to be
saying
that they can still lead normal lives after they've had this treatment. It
doesn't mean shit in legal terms, but it might not be such a bad idea to leave
it in. It looks like we're giving something back. We need to think about it."
"Article 7. Subject to the preceding, such individuals who voluntarily fulfill
the conditions of Article 3, shall avoid the penalty of lifetime incarceration
that results from multiple criminal offences involving the sexual abuse of
minors."
She stopped there, closing her eyes to concentrate. That was the incentive.
Submit to treatment that results in complete and permanent emasculation and
you
will not spend the rest of your life in prison. She nodded. The rest of the
document was unimportant. With one hand it gave a little to a lot of people
and
with the other it took back a lot from a few people. It was exactly the sort
of
legislation that quickly gained approval. It worked like taxes!
"Even though it's ambiguous, they're still going to say that the measures are
much too extreme," she said coldly. "The rest of it is right on the money as
far
as I can tell. Give me the rationale."
The Vice President smiled. She was looking for final justification. That meant
that she had bought into the basic principles. Just as everyone else would. It
was impossible not to. Everyone hated pedophiles. He rubbed his hands
together.
"Firs' all, the Act's `bout fixin' tha' serious problem of pedophiles `n all.
Everyone knows pedophiles is on the increase. It don' matter we got tha' two
strikes law. An'way, it's not exclusively `bout them, is it? It supports bein'
gay, so it don't look like we're out bashin' queers. 'n the gays will support
it
too, 'cause we had one of 'em on tha' committee. He said it won't matter a
damn
'cause most of them pedophiles who likes boys ain't gay."
"I notice that we've been careful to leave the specific details of how the
goals
are to be achieved. Leaving it up to the discretion of an agency is a stroke
of
genius."
The Vice President smirked. "I was thinkin' it might be called `Tha' National
Ins'tute of Aberrant Sexuality. Tha's SAINT backwards if yer 'clude tha 't' in
tha."
The President gave him a strange look. "I really don't care what it's called,
James. The most important thing is it's not affiliated with the government.
They'll be in charge of testing and implementation. Better yet, the health
insurance people really want to set up that DNA database that Lane fucker
stopped. We can slip in something in this act to get it started. That way they
both can tap into it. There's no point in funding it twice."
"We can fund it wi' grants just like we funded,...."
"That will certainly help," she agreed heartlessly, cutting him off before he
had a chance to get started on his usual agenda. "Convince me how we make it
work, James!"
Hackman nodded. "Okay. Tha' main point is it's voluntary. Mostly we're talkin'
`bout boys under twelve, so 's up to the parents. They don't want some sexual
deviate fer a son."
"Why twelve?"
"They tell me yer gotta fix the problem `fore puberty, see, otherwise he jus'
gets shirty, Holly. 'sides he's then big 'nough to injure after that. We gotta
get `em reoriented too. Turn `em into fags or somethin' instead."
"How?"
"We was thinkin' of sendin' `em off to a camp. Tha' psychologis' says you get
a
boy young `nough `n he could be chasin' men after a coupla weeks a' most."
"It sounds like brainwashing," she mused. "Not that I'm against it. Better
they're doing it with men instead harming other children, I suppose."
Hackman smiled. `Fer `while there I was thinkin' we needed ta' keep `em outta
school. Don't wan' `em pollutin' other kids. Then, I figure why not let `em do
sum kinda big brother thing, 'summin' tha' man's been fixed too. Settle `em
right into the fag life at tha' outset. We cain't have `em getting' married,
least not ta' womens."
The President nodded. "Good point. However, I really can't see a parent
agreeing
to get little Johnny's balls cut off."
"Like ah said, Holly, one of tha' thin's tha' committee come up with was tha'
vast majority of parents don't want some deviate fer a kid. If they got a
chance
fer straight, they'll take it."
"I agree in principle, but I wish you would answer my questions instead of
obfuscate all the time. I think prior to conception, to ensure a normal son,
parents would do whatever is needed. Under the right situation it's very
likely
the parents will do something even after the child is born. My point is that
we
need to get testing done during pregnancy if we can. Look into that right
away.
I'm sure it would be rapidly adopted, especially if the Institute paid for the
abortion. Now, how about boys who test positive?"
"Tha' committee thinks that fer tha' right incentive most parents er gonna
wan'
to do it. Either that or see tha' kid in jail. Tha' two-strikes law makes it
fer
life y'know."W
She nodded. "What sort of incentive?"
"Tha' IRS could offer tax credits," Hackman suggested hopefully.
"Hm,... Not in this lifetime. The budget is tight as it is, especially now
that
the Healthy Nation is underway. Hm,... but it is a good idea. We just can't do
it openly." The President suddenly smiled. "I've got it. The parents take it
as
a charitable contribution to the Institute," she suggested. "Of course, the
treatment would be at no cost. There would have to be a few treatment options
to
select from so it looks right. It's very likely that most parents will resist
the idea at first. We'll need to market it."
She was still unconvinced, but the proposal was beginning to take shape. It
was
a pity that she had placed Hackman in charge of the project.
"As will tha' little faggots, no doubt. But there ain't nothing they can do,
not
while they's still children an'way. They don't have no rights in tha' legal
sense, and they sure as hell cain't vote. And after tha' reorientation, they
won't be no worry."
"Unless I'm mistaken, there is nothing in the Constitution to prevent it," the
President mused. "The Declaration of Independence, maybe, with the reference
to
life, liberty and happiness? But we covered that,..."
"Actually, tha's basis we used fer tha' NICE Act, that and tha' evil argumen'.
With the emphasis on equality `n justice and stoppin' crime, `n preservin'
tha'
society by natural mean, it fit right in."
"I suppose so," she agreed reluctantly. No more da Vinci artists? She sighed.
"We've also got it to be non-`nominational too. Homosexuality is immoral, but
pedophilia's `a bomination `gainst God! He's on our side `n this."
"You do tend to exaggerate, James. However, I agree that pedophilia, like any
extreme thinking, is inherently destructive to our society. It's extreme,
sterilizing 3,000 boys a year, but it'll be worth it in the long run."
"Hell, boys `a been gelded fer a thousan' years, Holly. It ain't nuthin' new.
It
don' take more'n a few minutes ta' do it. I'm willin' to bet there was even
plantation owners who was castratin' brothers. It ain't all that much ta'
lose,
not fer a kid, not when he's nine or ten. It ain't like he knows what it's
fer.
They git over it quick."
"The civil liberties people will scream bloody murder."
"It won't make no difference. Tha' rest of tha' country supports us. Time we
put
'em in their place."
"I expect you're right. It's really very good legislation. It leaves a lot
unspecified. As legal guardians, parents have the right to require medical
treatment that is in the child's best interest."
"It's fer tha' chil'en," Hackman said. "They wan' this le'slation."
She resisted the impulse to tell him to shut up. She thought it through aloud.
"All NICE does is legitimize the opportunity to intervene in the natural
selection process to ensure that sexual deviants are unable to hurt our
children. It's that simple. It's really about achieving equality and justice
for
all." She laughed. "I'm beginning to appreciate the possibilities. The queers
will buy in too seeing as we're supporting alternative sexualites." After a
moment, she added. "Begin planning right away, James. We'll need to have the
tribunal and Institute set up before it comes reaches me for signature. I
don't
want any surprises."
"There ain't gonna be no s'prises," Hackman stated unequivocally.
"I do have one more idea for you," she said pointedly. Like that, it was not
an
idea, It was an order, but not one that came from her.
"You got sumthin' else needs doin'?"
"Yes, and it's related to this." She rubbed her hands together. "Some people
might say that we need to pursue the men as well."
"You mean tha' mens whose pedophiles?"
She took a deep breath. Sometimes it was like dealing with a child. "Yes,
James,
of course that's who I mean. It's going to look bad if we go after the kids
and
leave the men out there abusing children. We'll direct the Bureau to give it
their top priority. We need a national campaign to target pedophiles. A
national
database for a start. It should be publicly accessible. On the Internet.
Anyone
who is even remotely linked to sex with kids ought to be on it."
Hackman smirked. "We'll drive `em off tha' streets."
She nodded abruptly, cutting him off before he could say more. "No, James, not
off the streets. I want them in jail. We'll prosecute them again and again
until
we get them where they belong. We'll have the Attorney General develop
legislation that gets past the problem of being charged twice for the same
crime."
The President finished her tea and stood up, ready to dismiss him. Her
favorite
television show was on in just a few minutes. She had been known to cut short
national security briefings not to miss it.
"There is one more thing," she added guardedly. "I want you to do something
about Lane. That bastard tried to fuck my Healthy Nation Act. The genetic
testing program that he stopped was an important part of the plan. I would
castrate him myself if I had the chance. I want him discredited, James. I want
him out of the way for good,... and quietly too. Very quietly," she said with
emphasis. "The press likes him for some reason. He's too smart for his own
fucking good."
"Ah'll get ta' him right after I finish settin' up tha' tribunal."
Hackman grinned gleefully. The meeting was over. It had taken six months to
get
there, but the end was in sight. Already, he was thinking of the other members
of the tribunal. He would have liked to be on it himself. However, like the
President, he could see the rationale for disassociating himself once it had
been set up.
* * * |
|
Thecia's Phantom Pair | Thecia does a friend a favor. This is fiction and not for minors, although coal miners are OK. | ` Thecia's phantom pair `
The only person in my normal day to day life who knows what I do is my
girlfriend Leslie. We grew up together in small town Texas. She went on to run
a very successful business in the northeast. I became what I am, a 30 year old
female "cutter". I also do very boring pipe design on a computer at my "day
job".
Leslie called me at home as she often did to chew the fat. We are the same age
and we have a lot in common. We discuss "girl stuff", boy friends and so on.
This time she told me that she had a problem with her live in guy. His name
was Bob, and he was a control freak.
I knew that, as strong as she was, she was afraid of him. It seems that he had
left his e-mail account open on the second computer in the house. She noticed
it and read the opened mail. It contained meeting times and places with
prostitutes. Some very explicit requests were also on the notes.
She told me that he hadn't touched her sexually in almost a year and he never
let her go down on him.
A strange picture emerged from her investigations. In his mind, he felt that
only a tramp would do those things and she was his and he couldn't let her do
it. From the professionals he required oral sex, anal sex and some S&M.;
He was involved with four or five hookers a week. She told me that after what
she learned; she would never be with him again. I said "so do you want him
cut?" "I'm in!!."
She said that she couldn't live with having that done, but, was there a way to
put the fear of god into him. My first thought was to have "Digger" reach into
his bag of shadowy contacts and have the guy "Tuned Up".
A second idea began to form in my devious little mind.
Her guy "Bob", spent almost every Friday night in front of the TV drinking
several perfect V.O. Manhattans. I told Leslie that I had an idea and I
promised not to "cut" him.
I asked Digger to make up one of his famous "Mickeys" in a V.O. bottle. As
usual he was glad to help. Usually I give him a cut of what ever I get paid
for these kind of things. But, I told him that this was a favor for a friend,
and that it didn't involve a cutting.
I flew into JFK and rented a car. They live near Providence RI, but, do to my
paranoid nature, I didn't want to fly into an airport near them. Before I made
my way to New England, I took a detour to a deer farm on Long Island. I have a
friend that worked with me at a vets office years before. He was now the
veterinarian at the farm. They raised the deer for venison. He had just cut
several bucks and had what I wanted. I took one of my peanut butter jars; this
one filled with brine and not the usual formaldehyde and popped a freshly cut
set of deer balls in.
I then started the long drive to Providence. I rented a motel room some
distance away and had Leslie pick me up. When we got to the house he was
already ensconced on the sofa watching TV. He had eaten dinner with Leslie
before she left to pick me up. At least one Manhattan was gone, possibly more.
Leslie introduced me as Cindy, a neighbor and friend..
I had my "Blonde floozy" outfit on. Wig, falsies, too much make up and all. He
looked me up and down, almost drooling, like a dog would look at a raw steak.
Leslie asked me if I'd like a drink and asked Bob if he wanted a refill. I
told her a little white wine would be nice and Bob said he wanted another
Manhattan. She made the Manhattan with a generous portion of Digger's modified
V.O.
It took about forty minutes for the potion to work. Bob said, "I don't feel
well, I'm gonna hit the sack." Leslie helped him into the bedroom and got him
into bed. As he lolled halfway between awake and asleep, I slipped the already
tied nooses on each wrist. With Leslie’s help and a couple of quick pulls we
had him immobile. I used more rope to make for a more secure condition and
smiled at my handy work.
He was upset now and trying to see through the drug induced blur. Leslie said
the words as I had rehearsed her. "Cindy is here to cut your cheating balls
off." I had seen the ensuing look before, his rage and confusion turned to
fear. I made a show of setting out my scalpel and instruments.
Just to keep to my normal routine, I put on my plastic lined velvet glove and
began to milk him. I didn’t want to give this guy the pleasure of cumming, but
I did want him to think it was the last time. I tore open his boxers and
pulled his half-hard and uncut cock out in the open. It grew to a respectable
size almost at once. I held his big balls in one hand and jerked him with the
other. I told him that this would be the last time and when he came, I would
“nut” him. I could tell that he was holding back, but when he got close I just
pressed on his prostate and it was over. First a drop, then a stream. It was a
funny moment, Leslie was watching on the other side of the bed when he popped
off. The first stream shot a full three feet and left a rope of cum right
across her carefully preened blonde hair. I laughed, but she didn’t see the
mirth in it. Again, I told him, I hoped that was a good one for you, because
it’s your last.
I carefully washed my hands, "gloved up," with regular surgical gloves and
began. I used my scalpel to cut his remaining clothes off. His big cock, as I
mentioned, was uncut and his balls were of respectable size. I shaved his sack
and inner thighs. I liberally applied alcohol (not betadine as I wasn’t really
going to cut) and prepared in my normal manner.
I got a needle out and again made a show of it, filling it with the
anesthetic. I shot two needles in to his groin, near the attachment point of
his right and left ball cords, and another two below his sac. All of this time
he was fighting so much that I almost missed my target. I finally told him,
"Stop squirming, or I'll cut your little cock off too." That stopped the
wiggling some.
I reached below his sight line and picked up the Ice cube we had placed in a
bowl on the floor. I pointed to the scalpel and smiled at Leslie, but she
shook her head no. I was ready to really slice this bastard, but she wouldn’t
let me.
I stretched out his nut sack and made a pseudo incision with the ice cube. As
I did, I told him "I've sliced your sack open." It must have felt like it to
him, because he audibly gasped. I kept up the "blow by blow" announcements as
I proceeded. "I've got your left nut out now". I pulled on the left one and
using a small nail scissors I snipped a piece of surgical tubing. The sound of
the clipping was quite audible. I said, "that's one" I took a sterile pin and
said "I'm going to sew that slit up now.” I pricked him with the pin as though
I was sewing.
I then took another Ice cube and "slit" the other side of his sack. I repeated
the procedure, pulling on his ball and snipping the plastic tubing. As I
"sewed" up the last slit. I held up the deer balls by their cords and said,
"Here's your nuts, Bob."
He looked at them and fainted dead away. Leslie wet his face with a wet towel
and slapped him. He opened his eyes, and I again hung the balls in front of
his face. This time he threw up, the vile smell of old booze permeated the
room.
I packed up my bag, put the deer nuts in the jar (out of his sight) and we
left. Leslie left with me, never to return to that house. She did leave him a
note. She said that if he tried to follow, Cindy would really have his nuts.
When we left him tied there, he fully believed that I had his balls in my jar.
She never wanted to see him again. I on the other hand hoped he would follow
her. I wanted those fat juicy balls in my peanut butter jar.
* * * |
|
Zack's Birthday | GAY, TESTICLES, Implied snuff | A high school graduate\'s summer job. | “Zack! Come on boy wake up! Were sinking,” Zack Walton shook his nephew’s
shoulder. The boy was also named Zack, so on the boat they got into the habit
of calling each other Unc and Zack.
Zack was already half awake: The first few days that he’d listened to the
sixteen cylinder EMD diesel hammer away he thought that he’d never be able to
sleep. Two weeks later the sudden lack of the familiar background noise had
caused him to stir. The auxiliary diesel that supplied electrical power was
also dead, and the only light came from the battery lantern that Unc was
carrying. He threw the sheet back and bolted out of the bunk, unaware that his
skivvies were down around his thighs and that his erection was jutting stiffly
up along his hairless belly. He caught his uncle’s glance and quickly turned
away and stuffed himself into his jeans and slipped into a tee shirt.
“Hurry up!” His uncle implored, “We’ve got to get in the raft!”
“Okay, I’m awake,” Zack said, following his uncle out into the narrow
passageway between the tugboat’s deck house and bulwarks. The fantail was
already awash and Zack could feel the stern settle even deeper as he followed
his uncle to the foredeck.
His uncle pulled the cord on the white plastic drum, releasing it from the
mount on the deck and initiating the inflation of the raft stored inside. Had
he not done so it would have happened automatically when the water rose, but
by then they would have been swimming.
“Where’s Walt?” Zack was suddenly aware that the other member of the crew was
missing.
“He’s dead, Zack. I think it was a heart attack,” Unc said somberly. “He’s
still below, and I couldn’t get him up the ladder from the engine room. Come
on, help me with the raft.” Working together they managed to push the inflated
raft over the side, and had no more than clamored into it when the Mary
Carter’s bow slid slowly under the tropical sea as she started her thousand-
foot plunge to the floor of the Pacific. “Oh, by the way, Happy Birthday.” Unc
said, breaking the silence. Despite the circumstances Zack gave his uncle a
weak smile, then settled back to contemplate his misfortune.
Zack had graduated from high school a month ago and was planning on kicking
back all summer before starting college, but his mom’s brother Uncle Zack had
called and offered the boy a job. Zack was a towboat Captain and the company
he worked for had just purchased a boat that was located in Melbourne,
Australia. He and a Chief Engineer were going to fly out and pick it up and
sail it back to Morgan City, and he offered Zack the position of third
engineer. Zack was only seventeen years old and not eligible or qualified to
sail on a tug, but he would turn eighteen before they got to Panama and by
that time his experience would automatically qualify him for a Coast Guard
license. The experienced first mate that was supposed to have joined them in
Melbourne had an appendicitis and couldn’t sail, but Uncle Zack had elected to
make the trip anyway. It was illegal and improper to sail shorthanded, but the
Engineer also held a two-hundred ton Master’s license, and since they weren’t
towing anything there wouldn’t be that much to do. They could pick up a Mate
at the Panama Canal and be okay by the time they entered U.S. waters.
Zack didn’t particularly care for his namesake; he always thought that his
uncle was a little on the strange side, but it did sound like a good way to
spend the summer and would also earn him a pretty good piece of change, so he
agreed to go along. Walt, the engineer, seemed okay, and even though he kidded
Zack about his diminutive size and apparent lack of maturity he did so without
malice and seemed to accept him as a member of the crew.
“Just wait until we get to Panama, laddie” Walt said on the long plane ride to
Australia, “You’ll be eighteen by then and I’ll take you out and get you drunk
and then we’ll go to a whorehouse and you can get your cherry popped, provided
we can find some rubbers small enough to fit you.” Zack didn’t even bother
defending himself by arguing that his ‘cherry’, as Walt referred to it, had
been popped a year ago and that until this trip a month hadn’t passed since
then that he hadn’t gotten laid, and that the bag that contained his
toothbrush, comb, and unneeded shaving kit also included a dozen Lubricated
and Ribbed For Her Pleasure Trojans that fit just fine.
The Mary Carter looked huge compared to the smaller harbor tugs, but at a
hundred feet she was small for a trans-oceanic tug and had been used for port-
to-port tows around Australia. Most of her interior space was occupied by the
huge engine and the many fuel tanks, and even though they could top off the
tanks at Brisbane, it was only by maintaining a snail-like eight knot best
economy cruising speed that they would have enough fuel for the forty day run
to Panama. She normally carried a crew of seven, and had accommodations to
suit, with the Captain and Chief Engineer each having a small cabin or
stateroom and the rest of the crew housed in a small common berthing
compartment. There was only one small head, as the bathroom on a boat is
called, and Zack was cautioned not to waste water.
Zack, being alone in the compartment, didn’t feel at all cramped and actually
relished the privacy to do as he pleased during the short periods he was
allowed to sack out. The bridge had to be manned at all times and Walt and
Zack’s uncle had shared the duty to start with, but after a week Zack was
competent enough to watch the horizon and radar screen for other traffic while
the automatic pilot system steered the boat. The important engine gauges were
duplicated on the bridge and were also backed up by alarm bells for improper
oil and water pressures and temperatures as well as fire and high water but
the engine room still had to be checked frequently, and the Engineer spent
most of his free time there doing the required maintenance. Zack helped out
there when he could, but it was so noisy there that communication was
difficult and he had a hard time figuring out what all was going on. A full
crew would have included a cook, but Zack and his uncle and Walt shared the
duty or just sort of grazed on the many frozen entrees that stocked the
freezer. The little spare time that Zack had was devoted to devouring the huge
collection of girlie magazines that had came with the tug, every detail of
which was converted by Zack’s fertile mind into fuel for his teenage libido.
The day that Zack had planned on celebrating his eighteenth birthday was spent
instead bouncing around on a small life raft some where in the South Pacific.
“What Happened?” He asked his uncle.
“Walt had the watch, and when the engine stopped I went down to take a look.
Walt was already dead and the water was up over the floor plates. My guess is
that the cooler inlet broke or a hull plate sprung apart. There was no way
that the pumps could handle that kind of leak.” The uncle replied, averting
his eyes to avoid his nephew’s anguished look. “We should be okay,” he
continued. “The power went down before I could send off a Mayday, but both of
the EPIRBs should be working. You know about those?”
Zack had seen the red device mounted forward of the pilot house and had asked
Walt it’s purpose, and learned that it would automatically release and send a
radio signal if the boat went under. Special satellites monitored the
frequency and could, by triangulation, pinpoint the transmitter’s location. A
smaller device was attached to the life raft, and both should now be
broadcasting news of their distress. “Yeah,” he answered, “Walt told me about
them. Just where are we, anyway?”
“I don’t know for sure,” his uncle lied, “somewhere near the Society Islands
would be my guess.” That was another lie; Unc knew exactly where they were,
and if there was any doubt he could easily refer to the charts and handheld
GPS unit that the raft contained. In fact, just about everything he’d told the
boy were lies. He knew exactly how and when the Engineer had died, and he knew
precisely why the boat had suddenly sank, and he also knew that the batteries
had been removed from both of the EPIRB transmitters. He also knew that his
last satellite phone call to company headquarters had included the information
that the satellite phone system was giving him problems and would probably
fail, and that he might be not be able to talk to them for a week or two when
he would be close enough to a relay station to use the single side band radio
that the tug also was carried.
The uncle had figured out right away that this class of tug had peepholes
installed in the berthing compartment and head through which the captain could
monitor his crew for any sign of drug usage or other illegal or deviant
activities, and he knew that his nephew jacked off every day, usually right
after waking up. He knew that the boy usually masturbating while lying on his
back but sometimes stood up and faced the mirror that contained the peephole,
and he knew the sweep of the boy’s cock, the hang of his lovely testicles, and
every curve of tight little hairless ass.
The first time he had fucked and nutted a boy was in a back alley in Manila
years before his nephew had even been conceived, and by the time young Zack
was twelve his uncle knew that he’d someday have him too, and he had planned
this whole trip with just that in mind. He knew that the trade winds and
prevailing currents would eventually take him close to some sparsely inhabited
islands where the native cannibals would be particularly grateful for the
delivery of a young white eunuch, and that they would reward his generosity by
giving him all of the food and water that the raft could carry and an escort
to an island from which he could be rescued.
The raft had a tent-like canopy to provide protection from the elements and
was designed for eight people, so there was ample room for the two of them to
stretch out and get comfortable. Zack dozed in one end while his uncle took
inventory of the contents. There were two solar stills to make fresh water,
and a supply of concentrated food that would support the two of them for
several weeks. There was also a GPS unit, which Unc promptly hid, as well as
charts of the Southern oceans.
His immediate attention was focused on the contents of the first aid kit
spread out at his feet. Several assorted bandages, a small surgery kit with
scalpel and forceps, an assortment of sutures and needles, as well as a
tourniquet, disinfectant, and even some multi-spectrum antibiotics. Perfect.
It would take at least ten days to reach land, and by that time the boy would
be healed from the surgery he was about to undergo. His asshole would take
longer to heal from the next ten days of trauma that would be inflicted.
“Wake up Zack,” Unc said for the second time that day.
“Huh?” Zack was still half asleep, but he came to full attention when he saw
that his uncle was not only naked, but also stroking his short, fat, cock.
“It’s your birthday, and we’re going to have us a party!”
Author’s note: The descriptions of a seagoing tugboat’s constant noise, engine
room, raft, EPIRB, and wheelhouse are all accurate. It is absolutely
preposterous to suggest that one would sail on a trans-oceanic voyage with
anything less than a full crew. No company would allow it, no insurance
carrier would permit it, and master would risk his license to attempt it.
However, many t unqualified individuals have sailed as deckhands, cooks, and
third engineers.
* * * |
Were you done? | GAY, PENECTOMY | Couple of friends compare experiences in High School.One had his dick pierced by the teachers, the otherwas penectomized by his teachers. | WERE YOU DONE?
"Hi Brian!"
"Hi Johnny"
"So, Brian, What's this thing you need to talk about?"
"Johnny, twenty years ago, in high school, our junior year... were you done?"
"Yea, Brian, I was done. Were you?"
"No. I still have my penis.”
"Really Brian, you still have your penis? Can I see it?"
"Sure."
Brian slipped off his pants, exposing his ten inch, cut penis. His Prince
Albert Piercing glistened at the tip.
"Oh wow!" exclaimed Johnny. Brian replied, "Let me see your stump."
Johnny took off his pants. The place where a penis would have been was bare.
In place of a penis was a ring, piercing what would have been the base of his
shaft.
""Wow, Johnny, that's really disgusting! I didn't know you were pierced."
"It isn't a piercing, Brian, it's an implant. Inside me is a shaft imbedded
into my pelvis. They only did it to five of us. The 'wimps' of the group who
were done; it sets off metal detectors and I get strip-searched. Security
screeners are trained to make a spectacle of us. I have a dildo that snaps
on."
"Brian, what was it like to get pierced?"
"It was scary, Johnny. Everyone who wasn't penectomized was taken to the
locker-room and stripped. We walked naked into the gym and lined up. We had
been told about the piercing. I knew we weren't getting penectomized as they
had been done already. I kept looking for you hoping to see you. Hoping that
you still had your penis. They shoved a swab with antibiotic salve up our pee
holes."
"We were warned that if anyone got sick or fainted, he would be penectomized
immediately. A small tube, a receiving tube, was inserted in my pee hole. It
was pressed painfully against me, and then the needle was shoved through my
dick flesh into the tube. The tube was withdrawn, and the ring was slipped
through the new hole. One guy, Tim, fainted, and another, Pete, got dizzy and
couldn't stay standing. After we were bandaged, Tim and Pete had their dicks
cut off, but we weren't allowed to watch."
"What was it like having your dick cut off Johnny?"
"Oh Brian, we didn't know that we were about to loose our penises.'' "We were
taken into the locker room, one hundred of us. We had to strip and stand while
we were told that we were selected for processing. They told us that we were
never to masturbate again. We were lined-up along a bench and seated. They
paired us up and had us fuck each other in the ass. You remember Rick Orr? He
fucked me then I fucked him."
"They started with the guy on the end. The guy next to him gave him a blow
job. As soon as he came, it was the guy who blew him's turn to get blown. They
escorted each guy into another room after he shot his load. Finally, it was my
turn to suck off Rick."
"I'll never forget his cock. It was twelve inches long, and two inches in
diameter. He was cut, and had a plump mushroom head. His shaft was smooth as
silk, yet rock hard, and it felt wonderful in my mouth."
"He came, and was taken into the next room. Timmy Johnson sucked my cock. It
was fifteen inches, and cut. I really enjoyed the blow job."
"After I came, I was taken to the next room where out gym teacher was. If you
remember, he was twenty two, only five years older than us. Well, he was naked
and really HOT! He said he needed to measure my cock hard. He rubbed my cock
and ran his hands over my torso. His chest hair felt wonderful rubbing against
my smooth chest. I got the biggest erection of my life, fifteen inches,
pointing straight up and as big around as a soda can."
"I was seated in a weird chair. It turns out that it was an exam chair. I was
strapped in, gagged, my legs spread wide apart, and reclining back a little
bit."
"I was wheeled into the next room, where Rick was. He was crying and drenched
in sweat, like he had been struggling. They wheeled me into position and had
me watch as they slid his beautiful penis up and away from his body. I
fainted, and they gave me a shot of something to wake me and prevent me from
fainting."
"They took my penis in hand and inserted a catheter up my pee hole. It really
hurt going in. Then they stroked me till I was hard again, and slipped a
really tight band around the base of my cock."
"Brian! I don't believe you’re hard! How could you be turned on by my cock
getting cut off?!"
"Sorry Johnny, I really like dickless guys. This is really HOT!"
"Well Brian, I guess it would be, if it hadn't happened to me."
"Well, they took a small knife and started to slowly cut into my cock. Oh the
pain was worse than I could have imagined. They kept stopping to use a wood
burning iron on me to stop the bleeding. I couldn't help but strain against
the restraints. By the time they ended, I was drenched in sweat. Timmy was
wheeled in and started screaming through his gag, when they slid my penis off
the catheter."
"Because I fainted, they put the implant in. My ass hole also has an implant,
to prevent me from being fucked or rimmed. I can only have sex by using a
strap-on dildo to fuck a guy, or I can give him a blow job."
“Johnny,” asked Brian, “why don’t you have the implants removed?”
“I can’t Brian. The center of the implant is a special toxic metal. The outer
part is stainless steel. If the implant is cut, the inner metal would kill me.
Jeffery Zeeley was also implanted, and he tried to remove them. He spent 2
weeks screaming in agony while the poisons spread through his body before he
finally died.”
"Wow, Johnny," said Brian, "I can see why you’ve never had them removed.”
“Johnny, I swore that if I ever saw you, I would tell you this. I hope you
won’t hate me after you hear what I have to say…I've loved you since High
School, so will you be my boy friend?"
"Sure Brian, I've loved you since High School too, I'll gladly be your boy
friend."
The end
* * * |
Road Trip, conclusion | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION | A road trip vacation leads to unintended and unimaginable changes to body and lifestyle. | Road Trip, Part 3.
The trip back home was torture. Over the counter pain pills and first aid
supplies helped me maintain some degree of cleanliness pain control to my
sutured up scrotum. When I got back home it was my intention to drive directly
to the hospital emergency room. But I changed my mind. I didn't even call my
Doctor. I don't know why I was experiencing shame and embarassment, but the
thought of other people seeing my condition was too grim to bear. And if I did
seek medical help there would be questions, they would make a police report,
more questions would be asked, and I would have to re-live the entire scenario
over and over and over again. No. I could not subject myself to that. It
appeared as though the wound was not infected. The pain was subsiding. When
the time came I could probably remove the stitches myself. What was done could
not be undone. Thus I resolved to show no one, tell no one, do nothing about
my horrific ordeal.
I felt a duty and obligation to warn other single male travelers from visiting
the motel. But how would I do that? Post myself as a sentry at S15 ?
Unrealistic. Others may have been surgically castrated in the past, and more
may be castrated in the future. If I go public and give the name of the cafe
and motel, what proof do I have? If the owners ever found out what I was doing
they could sue me for damaging their reputation and harming their business.
And my identity would be revealed and I would be forced to re-live the ordeal
all over again. If others had experienced the same as I, had they reported it?
Perhaps not. Perhaps they too had the same misgivings about reporting it as
did I. .
All I can say is that if you don't want to be castrated, look for a cafe that
serves pizza that has a motel nearby and there is a stream flowing next to the
last motel room. Do not eat there, do not stay there. I have never been able
to eat pizza again, with or without toppings.
Later that year I changed jobs and moved to a new community. My scrotum had
fully healed and my libido was completely gone. After moving I decided to get
a new physician. I was never able to bring myself to see my regular physican
in my old home town. I told my new physician that I had sustained a major
groin injury in a sporting accident last year and that was the reason my
scrotum and testicles were gone. He probably didn't believe me, but was more
than willing to provide me with a prescription for testosterone. Although I
had not been taking any testosterone prior to this, I told him that I had been
taking it but after moving I had run out and I needed to start up a new local
prescription. Thankfully my health plan pays for it. I have been taking the
treatment for over six months now. My concentration and strength have
returned. I am again interested in, and can engage in sex.
It was not easy at first trying to develop a new relationship with a woman.
What woman would want to have sex with a man who had no balls? Well was I
mistaken. Lots of women want to have sex with a ballless man. While a few are
grossed out, most find it fascinating and they really get turned on. While
there can be no children born by accident I still use a condom and hopefully
there are no diseases contracted by accident. Without any balls to get in the
way I have discovered new and more energetic ways to please myself and my
partners. Sometimes I fantasize that I still have my balls, but most of the
time I find it even more erotic knowing, and feeling, that I do not having
them. Never in my wildest dreams would I ever have imagined that my sex life
would be so active, and so fulfilling, castrated or not. Not that I am
recommending castration, but, well, I can now recommend it. Unfortunatley it
is not one of those things where one can say "try it, you'll like it". You
might like it, but if not it is a river of no return. There are certainly
worse things in life than castration.
So, that's my story. I have not taken any more road trips. Such a trip would
only remind me of my traumatic ordeal, and I would be fearful of what might
next be taken from me. I don't want my last remaining part winding up as
sausage slices on the top of a pizza somewhere.
* * * |
Leiha and Angel - Part 2 | BI, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION | A continuation of Leiha and Angel:
The processional continued towards the table, and, while I feigned a struggle
against my captors, in actuality I could not help but be mesmerized by what
was going on in front of my eyes. Leiha was stunning, as usual, her breasts
poking out of the leather bustier she was wearing, and Angel, whose figure was
similarly accentuated, was also gorgeous. The group made their way to the
table, while Leiha stopped to look at me – in my wide eyed stare as to what
was going on, smiled a soft smile, and began: “Friends and family, we are
gathered here tonight to celebrate the ultimate gift a slave can give, a gift
showing his total devotion, a gift, not unlike virginity, that once given can
never be taken back.” What the hell is this, I thought?
This began like some sort of wedding ceremony, only with a very different
outcome. I wasn’t her slave, so what the hell was she talking about? Then it
donned on me, this wasn’t about me, well, at least not yet. The man dressed as
the eunuchs, with little else on but boots and a hat, with his testicles very
much currently intact, proceeded to lay down upon the table. It donned on me
what I was witnessing, and soberly I watched her continue: “Richard,” she
said, “do you willingly make an offering of your manhood to me, and to this
house, out of love, devotion, and a desire to serve?” He indicated that he
did. She then presented him with what I later would find out was what we in
the legal community call an informed consent, outlining the potential risks,
complications, and treatment and care regarding surgery. Each paragraph was
read to him, after which he was asked if he understood, and he subsequently
initialed after each paragraph. Finally, when that was complete, he signed the
bottom. I later learned this had, in addition to the legal consequences,
profound psychological consequences as well. I admit to being somewhat aroused
at the thought of this man about to lose his manhood, in devotion to my
girlfriend. I also admit to questioning my own love for my girlfriend at the
time, and must admit that if asked, and if it meant keeping her or making her
happy, I'd have answered as Richard did.
His testicles were wiped down by Leiha with a dark brown substance, which I
later found served as both a topical anesthetic and served to cleanse the
area. She then looked to the third woman in the procession, and nodded. I
would later learn that she was a well known surgeon in the area. The woman
stepped forward, looked to Richard, and asked “This is your last chance, are
you sure this is what you want?” He again indicated it was what he wanted. She
took a hypodermic needle, and inserted it near the base of his spine, a more
powerful local anesthetic. She took a scalpel, made a modest incision in his
scrotum, and proceeded to remove his testicle from his scrotum with a pair of
forceps. Of course there was some blood, but it was not as much I would have
expected. The testicle itself was bluish white in color, and she expertly
snipped and sutured the cords, removing the testicle. She sewed up the outer
incision and then proceeded to do the same thing to his other testicle. Each
testicle was preserved in solution. The woman finished by kissing Richard on
the lips, softly. Both Leiha and Angel did the same. He was then carried from
the room by four of the eunuchs, those previously serving food and drink to
recover.
I watched as Leiha and Angel approached me, I was kicking up a storm – I
wanted the hell out of there, and didn’t want to be the next on the table, or
at least wanted to make it seem that way. Leiha looked at me and then Angel as
Angel said: “You’d think he thought he was next the way he’s struggling,” she
continued, smiling and laughing, pointing at me. Leiha then looked at me and
said, “Sweetheart, we don’t want to remove your balls, at least not yet,”
winking at Angel, “how are we going to have those kids we’ve talked about if
we snipped them off?” I was in shock, from witnessing Richard, and what I had
just witnessed and said nothing. She continued “And besides, we only remove
those whose testicles are better off without them, and then only when they beg
us to do so, and at least so far, you’ve been an excellent lover to us both.”
“So at least until we have some kids and unless you become inadequate in bed,
your balls are safe,” she said. “And as far as things have gone so far, I
think they are relatively safe,” she said, playfully squeezing my balls.
“But,” she continued, “we’ve been wanting to bring you into our house for some
time, and it hasn’t been fair that we’ve kept this from you.”
I looked at her and asked if that sort of thing goes on all the time. She
indicated that it did not. Men came to serve there, contacting Leiha, Angel,
and the other Mistresses and the two Masters of the house via the Internet.
After a background check, and public interview, the men were taken into the
house for a period of time, put to all kinds of use. Usually they served for a
few months, before moving on. Some had stayed for years, serving the men and
women of the house in a variety of ways, but did not wish to take the final
step. Those that did were considered permanent eunuch slaves to the household
members. In exchange for their various kinds of service, they were fed, cared
for, and indeed loved.
It was the job of the Mistresses and Masters in the house to provide for the
expenses, though a slave, eunuch or otherwise, was expected to tithe upon his
entrance. There were now ten eunuch slaves in the house and approximately
another twenty or so who were not eunuchs kept in the house. I asked if she
loved the men who served her in the house. She answered “Those that have been
here a while, and those who have sacrificed for us, yes, I care for, even
love.” Recognizing the disappointment in my face, she continued “It does not
mean that I don’t love you, and certainly no less than them, we wouldn’t have
brought you here if we didn’t love you.” Angel piped in, “that, and we’d
rather have our group sleepovers over here, we missed being here several times
a week.”
Leiha told the eunuchs holding me to release me, and I was offered something
to drink. She asked if I was okay with all this, and I responded that it would
take some serious getting used to. I was introduced to the women and men in
the house, and exhausted, retired to bed with Leiha and Angel, who were
especially hot and passionate that night. I woke up with Angel beside me,
Leiha no where to be found. I walked into the bathroom that accompanied their
bedroom to find her seated on the floor, Richard’s face buried between her
legs, moaning, as his tongue expdertly explored her slit. After a few minutes
she finished, her head titled back in extacy, and looked up at me somewhat
surprised, especially since I wasn’t cross about it. She explained that for
the past year, excepting her overnights to my house, after doing her morning
business, Richard licked her clean, front and back. I looked at him and said,
with a smile on my face, “Well, just don’t miss a spot, can’t have her running
around unclean, now can we?” “No sir,” he replied, smiling back at me.
I indicated that if it wasn’t too much trouble, I was going to use the non
human toilet. I finished, shook my tool two times, and Leiha said “are you
sure you don’t need cleaned now, what do you think Richard?” “Yes Mistress, we
can’t have him running around unclean, now can we?” I looked at her, and said
“Don’t you think I’ve already had enough to digest as it is, and besides, I’m
not gay sweetheart.” She replied “its only gay if its with another man, and
Richard is now an it.” I looked at Richard and said "besides, he's your slave,
not mine, maybe he's not into men." Leiha responded "I tell him about you with
us, about things we've done, he wants to serve you as well." Her logic made me
smile, and I relented. I suppose that’s part of the reason about why I loved
her, she could argue with me, and win. As for Richard, he was certainly good
at this, and I was hard in seconds. Of course, Leiha being completely naked
watching might have had something to do with it. Despite the previous night’s
activities, which should have left me completely drained, after a few minutes
Richard was swallowing every bit of what I had left to give. I turned, to find
Angel in the doorway smiling, saying to Leiha “well, he apparently likes the
toilet service, wonder if he'll enjoy all the other amenities in the house.”
My face reddened at her comment.
In the next several months, I had moved into the house with Leiha and Angel.
Leiha and I were formally married. Family, friends, professional acquaintances
and colleagues, and our housemates and slaves were in attendance – all
properly attired, of course. My parents sat directly in front of Richard and
another eunuch. I thought to myself… if only they knew. I’ve come to enjoy my
home life, and all of its trappings. While I never have gotten into the
torture sessions or “scenes” that Angel and Leiha and our housemates did
regularly, I will watch and even help out. Occasionally I get turned on, but
usually not.
Of course, I am more than happy to oblige when Leiha and Angel return to our
bedroom, hot and horny. I thoroughly enjoy just watching them explore each
other and satisfy themselves and will then have Richard or another eunuch
satisfy me or just do without. Leiha, out of honoring our marriage vows, and
perhaps to satisfy my paranoia that any child born be mine, has never slept
with or sexually used a non-castrated slave. This, of course, does not prevent
her from “scening” or torturing those slaves, nor does it stop her from having
them satisfy her with their tongues.
Angel, for her part, out of respect for Leiha and I, has kept to the same
prohibition. The eunuchs are different, and we take them into our bed
regularly, for various activities, especially Richard, who I feel personally
indebted to for having been the subject of the ceremony the night I was
brought into the household. I have witnessed two additional ceremonies in the
last year and half since Richard’s, and while they were equally a beautiful
act of devotion, didn’t have the shock value for me that his did. Most
recently Leiha has become pregnant with our first child, who will be very well
cared for and loved. I suppose one or two more will follow, since we had
always talked about three. I wonder, since Leiha's parents and mine are
talking about visiting more frequently, whether we'll have to come clean and
"out" our little secret. Moreover, my thoughts occasionally turn to how
serious she was about me possibly losing my balls after we are done having
children, and as such, to dissuade her from making such a request, am always a
considerate, passionate, and good lover to both women. Though, looking at
Richard’s life, I think to myself… there are certainly worse things in this
world.
As for those of you looking online for a Mistress, perhaps one day we’ll meet,
though not until my wife and Angel take your balls.
(So ends my story, though I’ve left out details and other stories that may
well interest the readers of the board. Depending on feedback, I am happy to
share some, and will do so with my wife’s and “Angel’s” permission. Perhaps we
can also have “Richard” or one of the eunuch’s tell their stories, and I may
urge them to do so.)
* * * |
|
Denouement | STRAIGHT, NULLIFICATION | The Ball Busters arrive at a small village and proceed to neuter all the males. | The young man was in the midst of a game of ball with his friends when he
heard the rumble of approaching vehicles.
Instantly he knew he had to flee for his life or fall prey to the Ball Busters
- the female militia whose job it was to eradicate unlicensed males throughout
the land.
He ran frantically for the bushes hoping to elude the sight of the women but
it was too late as a lasso snared him by the legs and he was dragged to the
ground with a thud.
As he recovered his senses he looked up at his captors - three beautiful
blonde women - and he knew he was done for.
The women shackled his limbs and led him toward the utility vehicle and he was
shoved into the back where a group of seven other men were likewise held
captive.
He could see from his vantage point the plight of his friends. They fared no
better than he and were quickly rounded up and placed in the utility.
Once the commotion had died down the Ball Busters gathered in a group -
relaxing as they enjoyed a beverage. A couple of the females came to the young
men to examine their catch.
“The young blonde man there,” considered one of the women, “I wager he has the
largest cock.”
“I say that one has the largest,” said the other, pointing toward him.
“Very well then, you are on.”
She commanded the blonde man to strip naked. He did this and as he removed his
loin cloth the woman smiled with satisfaction.
“There,” she said, “Have you seen a finer cock?”
“It is indeed a specimen. You,” she commanded pointing at the young man,
“Let’s see your cock.”
He stood up and removed his cloth.
The woman spat at him with disgust. His cock was smaller - although still a
fine specimen. In a fit of rage she grabbed his scrotum and proceeded to crush
his testicles. The young man moaned so she twisted his aching balls increasing
her grip. He fell to his knees yet the woman continued to mangle his testes.
Finally her rage abated and she released him.
Meanwhile, the women from the village had gathered to see what was to become
of their men, excitedly chatting amongst themselves.
The men were ordered to remove their clothing and led from the utility to a
fence that followed the main road into the small town and summarily tied to
each post by their wrists.
The first of the thirteen men was securely tied straddling a log between two
posts, his manhood carefully placed outward from behind his body making it
accessible for the Ball Busters.
A woman officer was then ordered to proceed with the denouement and, raising
her stiletto boot for effect, ground her heel into his left teste at the same
time maintaining her balance.
The villagers cheered as their man screamed uncontrollably. Once she felt his
ball pop beneath her boot she raised a finger to the crowd. “That’s one!” she
declared and the villagers clapped enthusiastically.
She subsequently destroyed his right teste and got down from the fence and
grabbed the cleaver, raised it above her shoulder and brought it down on the
base of his outstretched organ, expertly removing his penis and mashed
testicles with one blow.
Picking up what was once the man’s pride from the soil, she examined him
before placing it between her teeth as a gourmet would a chilli pepper.
The women laughed and cheered some more.
A young girl, not more than twelve, raced over toward the officer, beckoning
for the severed penis and was rewarded for her spunk. The girl held it
tentatively between her fingers, unable to conceal her initial disgust, but
was soon toying with it and showing it to her young friends.
At this moment, the commanding officer asked the villagers to enjoy themselves
with the twelve remaining men, doing as they please with them and encouraging
them to emasculate them in due course.
An elderly woman excitedly raced over to the large blonde man with a bread
knife and carved off his penis roughly, only encouraged by his suffering, then
skewered each of his testes with a fork.
Two young girls proceeded to wank two of the boys they had chosen for
themselves, gagging in their attempts to swallow their cum, before chewing and
chomping on their now flaccid penises, ultimately severing them and spitting
them out.
Another woman had baited her husband’s penis on a large fish hook delightfully
passing it through his length. “That’s for all the years I’ve spent at home
while you fished!” she declared.
.
Twenty minutes of wicked debauchery later and their task was complete.
“Well, ladies, these scum are now absolutely useless to you. We shall tie them
down in the fields for the buzzards.”
It was decided that the genitals of their men would be boiled in hot water and
made into hotdogs for the young girls and all agreed they were glad to be rid
of their male folk.
The girls all agreed that their hotdogs were delicious, if a little chewy.
And they all lived happily ever after.
* * * |
La domatrice | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES | Di fronte ad un pubblico esclusivamente femminile, una coraggiosa domatrice esibisce i maschi selvaggi che lei stessa ha addestrato. Uno dei maschi tenta di ribellarsi e di violentare la domatrice, ma subisce una terribile punizione che scatena l’eccitazione del pubblico presente. | La domatrice arriva in cittŕ e monta il tendone per il suo straordinario
spettacolo, riservato esclusivamente a persone di sesso femminile. Le donne si
passano la voce ed accorrono in gran numero, soprattutto le ragazze si
presentano in anticipo per poter occupare i posti in prima fila, vicino alla
grande gabbia do ferro.
La domatrice fa il suo ingresso accolta da un fragoroso applauso. Indossa solo
un paio di lunghi stivali, una striscia di pelle di leopardo intorno alla vita
ed una piů stretta sotto il seno. Impugna la frusta che fa schioccare con
forza mentre vengono introdotti i maschi selvaggi per dare inizio allo
spettacolo.
Sono uomini vigorosi, dai muscoli e dai genitali di proporzioni animalesche,
dai comportamenti brutali e violenti, catturati nelle piů selvagge zone del
pianeta. Ma la domatrice non teme la loro brutalitŕ. Con colpi secchi della
frusta e con perfetto dominio della situazione li fa salire sugli sgabelli, li
fa saltare nei cerchi infuocati, li costringe ad eseguire tutti gli esercizi
per cui sono stati addestrati.
Le spettatrici applaudono entusiaste, ma improvvisamente un grosso maschio
balza da uno sgabello sulle spalle della domatrice, la spinge a terra, si
schiaccia sopra la sua schiena con tutta la forza e impugnando con una mano il
suo smisurato uccello cerca di penetrarla da dietro. Le ragazze in prima fila
gridano di spavento davanti a quella inattesa scena di violenza.
La domatrice č bloccata con le ginocchia a terra e sta per subire quella
violenza umiliante davanti al suo pubblico, sente la punta dell’uccello che si
fa strada tra le sue cosce e preme sulla sua vulva. Facendo ricorso alle
estreme energie, la domatrice riesce a ribaltarsi su un fianco rovesciando a
terra anche il suo assalitore, che subito tenta di precipitarsi di nuovo su di
lei. La domatrice reagisce prontamente con un violento calcio nei testicoli
che fa rotolare a terra il maschio. In un attimo la domatrice č di nuovo in
piedi e colpisce con violente frustate il maschio che tenta di ripararsi
arretrando verso un angolo della gabbia.
Il pubblico č in piedi ed applaude ammirato. La domatrice riprende il
controllo della situazione. Fa uscire gli altri maschi dalla gabbia e
costringe il suo assalitore a sdraiarsi a terra sulla schiena, quindi afferra
delle robuste corde e lo lega saldamente alle sbarre per i polsi e le
caviglie.
Poi si avvicina al maschio ormai completamente immobilizzato, lo osserva
dall’alto, a gambe larghe e si rivolge al pubblico:
“Guardate com’č focoso questo stallone. Adesso vi farň vedere come si fa a
renderlo sottomesso!”
“Non mi sottometterň mai!” ringhia lo stallone.
“Oh sě, sě, che ti sottometterai!” ribatte tranquilla la domatrice. Intanto si
inginocchia a fianco del maschio, afferra il grosso uccello e lo accarezza
fino a farlo diventare duro. E’ un membro enorme che suscita l’ammirazione
delle spettatrici, soprattutto quando, grazie alle sapienti carezze della
domatrice, comincia una lunga sborrata che lancia grosse gocce di sperma a
quattro, cinque metri di distanza, fino a colpire le spettatrici delle prime
file, sempre piů eccitate dallo spettacolo.
“Che forza, ragazze! – esclama la domatrice – Ecco perchč era cosě agitato il
nostro stallone. Ma adesso che si č scaricato, sono sicura che č pronto a
sottomettersi e a chiedere scusa a tutte voi per quello che ha fatto prima!”
“Io non mi sottometto, non chiedo scusa a nessuno!” ribatte il maschio.
“Oh sě, sě, che ti sottometterai – replica con calma la domatrice – Adesso ti
taglierň le palline, smetterai di fare il gradasso, di spruzzare seme sulle
mie amiche e diventerai subito piů tranquillo!”
La domatrice si allontana un attimo per prendere una cordicella ed un rasoio
affilato. Il maschio tenta di spezzare le corde che lo bloccano, ma capisce
subito che la sua situazione č disperata. Allora si mette a supplicare:
“No, non voglio essere castrato! Sono disposto a sottomettermi, a chiedere
scusa di tutto!”
“Eh no, ormai č troppo tardi. – ribatte la domatrice – Dovevi pensarci prima,
adesso non posso piů fidarmi di uno come te!”
Il maschio ha cambiato completamente atteggiamento. Adesso piange disperato e
tra i singhiozzi prova ancora a far cambiare idea alla domatrice:
“No, no, ti prego, ti supplico, non castrarmi. Farň tutto quello che mi ordini
di fare. Ti obbedirň sempre!”
La domatrice sorride:
“Lo vedi: la paura di perdere le palline ti ha giŕ fatto diventare piů
educato! Pensa cosa succederŕ dopo che le taglieremo: diventerai docile e
mansueto come un agnellino!”
La domatrice passa una sottile corda intorno alla base dello scroto e la
stringe con forza prima di annodarla. Il maschio piange a dirotto, mentre le
ragazze intorno alla gabbia lo stuzzicano in modo crudele, sollevano le gonne,
gli mostrano la figa, la aprono con le dita e gli gridano:
“Dai, fai vedere come sei forte, facci ancora una bella sborrata!”
Allora la domatrice riprende ad accarezzarlo e lo porta ad un’altra lunga e
violenta eiaculazione che viene accolta da un grande applauso.
Mentre l’uccello svuotato si affloscia nelle mani della domatrice, lo
stallone, incoraggiato da quell’applauso, rivolge la sua supplica alle
spettatrici:
“Vi prego, non fatemi castrare, vi farň tutte le sborrate che volete.”
“Non credo che potrai ancora fare delle sborrate. Comunque adesso lo chiediamo
alle ragazze: devo perdonarlo o devo dargli un bel castigo?”
Purtroppo per lo stallone, le spettatrici sono ormai troppo eccitate e
desiderose di emozioni forti e la loro risposta č unanime:
“Castralo! Castralo! Tagliagli le palle! Tagliagli anche l’uccello! Regalami
quel bell’uccellone che me lo tengo per ricordo!”
Soprattutto le ragazze delle prime file sono scatenate. Si aggrappano alle
sbarre della gabbia e urlano i loro i loro incitamenti.
“Aspettate, aspettate! – grida a sua volta il maschio terrorizzato – Vi faccio
vedere ancora una bella sborrata!”
“Basta sborrate! Basta! – rispondono le ragazze – Smettila di fare lo
sporcaccione!”
La domatrice lega strettamente lo scroto, appena sotto l’uccello ed impugna il
rasoio. Il maschio piange disperato, supplica, chiede scusa per quello che ha
fatto. La domatrice si volta verso il pubblico. Le ragazze abbassano il
pollice in segno di condanna. E la domatrice, spietata, esegue. Taglia il
sacchetto dei testicoli e lo solleva verso le spettatrici che applaudono
entusiaste. Alcune ragazze infilano le mani sotto le gonne e si accarezzano
eccitate, altre mostrano la fica al povero maschio ormai evirato.
La domatrice avvicina lo scroto al viso del maschio, lo apre e gli mostra i
testicoli recisi.
“Vedrai come diventerai docile e tranquillo, adesso!”
Poi gli passa una cordicella attorno alla base dell’uccello, lo libera dalle
piů robuste corde che lo bloccano a terra e lo fa mettere in ginocchio.
La domatrice prende un boccale con il manico, lo mette sotto la vulva e lo
riempie fino all’orlo con la sua pipě. Poi lo porge al maschio inginocchiato
davanti a lei.
“Su, bevila tutta, fai vedere alle nostre amiche come sei diventato
obbediente!”
Il maschio ha uno scatto di rabbia e con una manata scaraventa a terra il
boccale con il suo prezioso contenuto.
“Oh, oh! Siamo ancora un po’ nervosetti, eh! – esclama la domatrice. Poi
avvicina le labbra all’orecchio del maschio e gli sussurra: “Ti do ancora una
possibilitŕ, ma se questa volta non obbedisci subito ti taglio anche
l’uccellino!”
E subito dŕ alla cordicella che tiene in mano uno strattone cosě violento che
quasi stacca il pene al povero maschio, che si piega in due con un urlo di
dolore. Quando si riprende, la domatrice si piazza davanti a lui a gambe
larghe e si rivolge al pubblico:
“Forse il nostro stallone preferisce bere direttamente dalla fontana. Su,
bello, metti la tua boccuccia qui sotto che io apro il rubinetto!”
Il maschio esita, ma la domatrice dŕ un altro strattone alla corda e a questo
punto l’uomo si infila tra le cosce, apre la bocca sotto la figa e ne riceve
il lungo getto. Le spettatrici applaudono con entusiasmo e alcune delle
ragazze in prima fila gridano:
“Portalo anche sotto la nostra fontana!”
La domatrice finisce il suo interminabile zampillo e sorride soddisfatta. Poi
tira la corda legata all’uccello dell’uomo e lo conduce verso le sbarre della
gabbia.
“Chi vuole dare da bere a questo povero stallone assetato?”
Le ragazze impazzite dall’eccitazione sollevano la gonna e mostrano le fighe
pelose e desiderose di innaffiare lo stallone. La domatrice lo trascina da un
lato all’altro della gabbia e il povero maschio č investito da ripetuti getti
di pipě.
“Su, apri la bocca! – gli ordina la domatrice colpendolo sulla schiena con la
frusta – Non sprecare tutto questo nettare!”
L’entusiasmo delle spettatrici č ormai alle stelle e la domatrice concede loro
un ultimo numero. Fa mettere carponi il maschio, gli sale in groppa e si fa
portare intorno alla gabbia come una esperta cavallerizza. Ogni tanto assesta
robuste frustate sulle natiche per fare accelerare il suo cavallo o strattoni
alla corda fissata all’uccello per farlo fermare o svoltare. Infine con uno
strattone ancora piů forte costringe il suo improvvisato cavallo a sollevare
le braccia e ad impennarsi. Da quella posizione lo fa ruotare su se stesso.
L’uccello č sollevato in alto ed allungato fino alla deformazione dalla corda
che la domatrice tira con forza. Sotto non penzolano piů i testicoli vigorosi
che il maschio esibiva con orgoglio all’inizio dello spettacolo, ma si nota
solo piů un piccolo moncone di pelle.
Le spettatrici osservano ammirate quello spettacolo ed esplodono in un lungo
prolungato applauso. La domatrice saluta il pubblico ed esce dalla gabbia e
dal tendone sempre a cavallo del suo destriero.
Appena fuori la domatrice si rivolge con toni aspri allo stallone:
“Allora, credevi di fare il furbo, di essere piů forte di me, di potermi
mettere l’uccello dentro davanti a tutti... ed invece sei stato servito come
meritavi. Adesso sei solo piů un povero castrato e sarň costretta a venderti”
“No, ti prego! – la supplica il maschio – Tienimi con te, voglio rimanere con
te e partecipare ancora al tuo spettacolo!”
“Al mio spettacolo? Ma figurati, alle mie spettatrici piacciono gli spettacoli
forti, i maschi ben forniti, con un grosso uccello, due belle palle, in grado
di fare delle sborrate abbondanti come quelle che hai fatto prima e che non
potrai fare mai piů!”
“Ma io ti obbedirň, farň tutti gli esercizi...”
“Gli esercizi... ma alle ragazze piace vedere in gabbia i maschi aggressivi,
non quelli docili e sottomessi.”
“Sarň aggressivo, cercherň ancora di violentarti!”
“Violentarmi? Ma se non sai nemmeno se ti diventerŕ ancora duro!”
“Ti prego, tienimi ancora con te! Sarň il tuo schiavo e ti obbedirň sempre” la
supplica il maschio.
“Ti č piaciuto quando ti ho messo sotto la mia fontana?
“Sě, č stato bellissimo, vorrei dissetarmi tutti i giorni da quella fonte!”
“Bene, allora ti terrň con me e da oggi sarai l’addetto alla cura della mia
fontana. Dovrai bere solo da lei, senza neppure sprecare una goccia e dovrai
pulirla ogni volta con la tua lingua. Ti porterň ancora nella gabbia e
mostrerň come ti comporti alle spettatrici. Ti farň bere e asciugare anche le
loro fontane e se un giorno ti rifiuterai di obbedire ti taglierň anche
l’uccello!”
* * * |
Playing Lukas Sorensen - Chapter 53 | GAY, NULLIFICATION, MINOR | Matthew learns the secret of mind control. | Chapter 53
‘I told him I let you.’
Matthew had pulled off the road, pulled off the road out to the highway,
pulled off onto an old logging track and followed it until it opened out into
a wide glade. He had turned the car on the grass, and stopped, and he had
wound the windows down. They were surrounded by forest. And the only sound
they could hear was the sound of birds.
They hadn’t spoken, hadn’t said a single word since Lukas had come back from
Rodney’s house. He had been gone for more than an hour. And when he returned,
Matthew had picked up his stuff and led the way to the car, already dressed in
his shorts and T-shirt.
He had supposed Lukas would follow.
Matthew had pulled the car off the road, after fifteen minutes or so of
driving, had parked in the grassy glade, and stopped, hit the button for the
windows.
‘So what did you say to Rodney?’ he said, knowing that his voice sounded
angry, harsh.
‘I told him I let you.’
‘Cut your nuts off?’
‘Touch me.’
Matthew thought for a moment. ‘Did you tell him about your nuts?’
‘No.’
‘Do you think he knows?’
‘How could he?’
‘I thought he might have seen something.’
Lukas shook his head.
‘What did he say?’
‘He said I didn’t understand.’
Matthew nodded, biting his lips, and then he raised his fingers to his bottom
lip, and took them away, to see if it was still bleeding.
‘He said you were trying to fuck him.’
Matthew nodded again, and frowned. ‘How could I have been?’ he said. ‘I was
touching you.’
Lukas nodded.
‘I didn’t do anything.’
‘Well you must have done something. He said you pulled his shorts down and
stuck your cock in his arse.’
‘How could I have?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘I didn’t even know he was there. I think I just brushed up against him or
something. My hand probably brushed his arse.’
Lukas said nothing.
‘Don’t you believe me?’
‘I don’t know what to think.’
Matthew exploded. ‘Well how could I have done it Lukas? I was right up against
the board touching you!’
‘He said you did.’
Matthew turned to him and screamed. ‘How the fuck could I have?’
Lukas pulled his head back and put his hand on the door. He opened the door
and got out, closing it behind him.
‘Shit!’ Matthew said.
He got out of the car.
‘Where are you going?’
Lukas shrugged but kept walking away.
Matthew rushed up behind him and grabbed his hand. He spun him around and
pushed him to the ground.
‘Don’t fucking walk away from me when I’m talking to you.’
Lukas looked frightened.
Matthew ran his fingers through his hair.
The cicadas in the glade started up – one, three, eight thousand – making a
deafening sound that made Matthew feel insane. He felt as though the world was
turning, as though he was on the very edge, on the very edge of a precipice
and about to fall. He held his hands on his head and screamed, screaming at
Lukas with all his might.
Lukas looked confused, worried and frightened all at the same time.
If Matthew had an axe, he would have hefted it into Lukas’ body.
He turned around, and walked back towards the car, with his hands planted in
his hair.
He stopped halfway there.
‘Shut up!’ he screamed at the forest.
The insects stopped. A single bird whistled. And then there was silence. A
gentle breeze ruffled the trees, and a cloud fell over the sun, throwing the
clearing into shade.
Matthew got back into the car and sat there, sobbing.
When a long time had passed, the passenger door opened unexpectedly, and Lukas
got into the car.
‘Are you alright?’ he said.
Matthew nodded, but he felt like hugging Lukas. And tears were dripping out of
his eyes.
‘I don’t care,’ Lukas said.
Matthew wiped his eyes and stared at his knees. His cock, insanely, was hard.
He had a fleeting impression, a brief idea, that he had become a different
person lately, that he had become someone awful, and hateful, a person he’d
never been, a person who was going insane, but it passed.
‘I mean, I’d rather if you didn’t, but I can’t stop you.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Fucking Rodney.’
‘I didn’t try to fuck him, okay?’
Lukas nodded. ‘He said he’s going to get you, you know?’
Oh, that was gold! Matthew threw his head back with his mouth open. ‘He’s
going to get me, is he?’
Lukas nodded.
‘Does he know where I live? Does he know my name? Does he know anything about
me?’
Lukas opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it and shook his
head.
‘You know he planted his cock in your arse that day in the change room? I
don’t suppose that matters?’
‘I didn’t mind.’
‘Well of course you didn’t fucking mind, you stupid little faggot. You’d like
any guy’s cock up your arse, wouldn’t you?’
Lukas turned his head down and turned it towards the passenger window. He
muttered, ‘Only yours.’
Matthew nodded to himself. Fuck he was going to cut this little prick’s cock
off. Whether he fucking wanted it or not.
‘So what did you talk to him so long about then?’ he said. ‘You were gone for
more than an hour.’
‘He made me a cup of tea. In a pot and everything, and we sat out the back, on
the porch.’
‘Oh, he’s a fucking saint, isn’t he Lukas? He made you a cup of tea. He didn’t
put his hand round your shoulder, or put it around your waist. Or touch you
arse? He didn’t slip his hand into your groin, did he?’
Lukas said nothing.
‘He didn’t have a little feel?’
Lukas didn’t answer, but he swallowed.
‘He’s a right fucking nut.’
Again, Lukas said nothing.
‘I’ll cut his fucking gear off if he ever comes anywhere near me, the fucking
fruitcake.’
Lukas nodded, but he wasn’t agreeing.
‘Where’s your phone?’
‘What?’
‘Where’s your phone?’
Lukas pulled it out of his pocket and handed it to Matthew.
Matthew found Rodney’s number. He blocked it, and deleted it, and then he
handed the phone back to Lukas.
Lukas frowned at it. He looked through his contacts and put it away.
‘You didn’t tell him your address did you?’
‘No.’
‘You didn’t tell him mine?’
‘No.’
‘Well, we’re not coming up here again. You understand that?’
Lukas nodded. He started to say something, but stopped.
‘What?’
‘He said he knew who you were.’
‘What?’
‘He said he’d find you. He said you had something that ought to be his.’
‘Yeah. Your cock.’
‘What?’
‘Don’t worry. He’s a fucking fruit.’ Matthew started the engine.
When they had turned onto the highway and were nearing the Exxon, Lukas said,
‘You probably should get some ice for your eye. It looks pretty bad.’
‘Can you shut the fuck up? I don’t want to hear your fucking voice again? Do
you understand that?’
Matthew glanced at him. He looked back at the road, steadied his hand on the
wheel, turned back to Lukas, and punched him in the side of the head.
* * * |
Tears of Blood, Ch.4 | PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, Detective Thriller | A little outside help. | ` A Night On The Town `
“Good morning, Veronda” Ben said with a smile, entering the King Street Police
Station.
“Mornin’ hell, it’s 10:00. I’s been here since seven,” she said, buzzing the
door to let him in to the offices.
“Is that you, Ben?” Aubrey yelled from the back.
“Yup. Where are you?”
“All the way in the back: In the darkroom…drying some copies of Wilcox’s
photographs. I’ll be right out.”
By this time Ben was standing in Aubrey’s cubicle. “No hurry, I’ll just look
over this autopsy report here on your desk.”
“Dat was one sick puppy, Detective Dawson,” Veronda called out.
Ben read on and found out what she meant. The x-ray of the decedent showed a
hand-blown glass dildo in his rectum, and DNA evidence on his penis indicated
active anal intercourse. Ben looked up at Veronda and raised his eyebrows.
She looked at him in a blank stare. “Guess he couldn’t make up his mind.”
“Here ya go, Ben, I made you a folder with a copy of the autopsy and a full
set of pictures,” Aubrey said, walking from the back and carrying a manila
envelope. “Where is Ray?”
“I made the mistake of parking near the Harley-Davidson dealership. He gets a
tee shirt from one of them every place he goes. We’re going to head on over to
that restaurant I told you about, then rest up. I want to hit both of those
bars tonight, so we won’t be in till the sun comes up.”
“To be young again.”
“Aub, you are only ten years older than I. Half the guys there tonight will be
around your age.”
“The problem is there will be no women about my age…or any other age for that
matter.”
“That is one of the benefits of a men’s bar,” Ben laughed, and waved good-bye
to Veronda on the way out.
Ray was almost to the station when Ben met him and inspected his partner’s
purchase: The mandatory shirt, and some boxer shorts he bought for Ben.
“Baby, you know I never wear underwear.”
“But there is a lock-up party at the bar tonight…boxers of briefs only.”
“Well then things are looking up for this evening. Ready for some lunch? I
trust you remember the directions.”
“I’ve already seen it, it is only two doors down from the Harley shop.”
“Well done.” Ben said, and the two enjoyed the short walk to the bistro while
Ben filled Ray in on the detail he learned from the report and corresponding
photographs. They settled into a corner table and were greeted by a waiter
that knew they weren’t local, thus pouring on the Charleston charm. Once they
had placed their orders, they quickly got their minds back on the case.
“Remember that déjŕ vu you had when you stepped on the pistachio? There is
something similar about that phrase hand-blown glass dildo. They aren’t a
common item in an adult store, but I know I have heard something about them.
“Probably from some trick,” Ben said, dryly. “Here comes the food, and our
chance to show the pictures to the waiter.”
Once the food was delivered, Ben introduced himself and told the waiter he had
a very sensitive photograph that wasn’t the most appetizing to be passed
around an eating establishment, but could use his help. One at a time
different employees all visited his table, but none knew the dead man. Ben and
Ray were a little disappointed, but didn’t expect to hit the jackpot at the
first place they went for information. The remainder of the day was filled
with a little shopping and a lot of resting in preparation for the night
ahead.
Around nine that evening they began getting ready to go out, which entailed
more than a quick shower. Leathermen are meticulously clean, and their clothes
are always in perfect order, the leather cleaned, the silver trim work
polished, and a strict necessity is that their boots be in new condition. In
all most every Dominant/submissive relationship, this cleaning ritual falls
upon the latter, so Ray was busy at these tasks the ‘subs’ describe as joy in
pleasing their Master, rather than a chore. By ten they were ready to leave,
looking similar is black leather from head to toe, with only minor
differences: Ben in a Master’s motorcycle cap and his wristband on the left,
while Ray donned a leather baseball cap and his cuff on the right arm.
“Good evening, gentlemen, you must be from out of town,” the doorman said.
“Welcome to The Fort. Glad to have you here!” The coat check wasn’t used for
jackets, but like most Leather bars it was a place to leave a bag with your
boxers of briefs that were changed into when the bar closed. At that time the
doors would be locked and nobody else would be allowed in, and when one left
they were not readmitted. Normally these are ‘flashlight events’, where all
the lights were shut off and little pocket lights were given out for aid in
finding your way when walking to the bar or restroom. Needless to say there
was a good reason for having the lights out, for after awhile the boxers or
briefs were non-existent, and the sole piece of clothing was a pair of
pristine boots. After a few drinks, Ben spotted somebody: A great looking guy,
but he was also a familiar looking guy. After tracing his mind he remembered
him as the witness from The Battery, and Ben decided he deserved another talk.
“Good evening,” Ben said to the Marine-looking guy also wearing the telltale
signs of a Dominant. This would make the conversation easier for business
talk, plus the fact that showing the Old Guard signs meant the man would
follow all of the tenants, one of them being he couldn’t lie, especially to a
fellow Leatherman.
“Hey. Did you ditch that guy?” he said while pointing with a nod of his head
to Ray.
“No. He is my partner…in life and work. I am Detective Ben Dawson and that is
Detective Ray Lanier. We are here in Charleston working the case you were
interviewed about today. I’m sure you noticed the tattoo over the stiff’s
goodies. You sure you can’t tell me anything about that?”
“Let’s go out back.” As he led Ben through the bar, the Detective motioned for
Ray to join them. Once on the patio Ben asked if the young man felt
comfortable talking with Ray there as well. “Sure, he will find out in the
records, and probably in the sheets as well,” he said with a sly grin. “My
name is Manuel Castillo. I have been torn between the meanings of honor all
day. I know it against all I believe in to lie to you, but are you familiar
with the Citadel? We have what we call a ‘Code of Honor’. Just as with the Old
Guard Leather rules, this is a pledge with that set of brothers. Detective,
that dead guy is a fellow cadet.”
“And if word got out he was gay it would look bad on his family and the
school, I get it,” Dawson said.
“Sir, he wasn’t just gay, and he wasn’t just into the SM scene. I know men in
the scene never tell anyone about another brother being in the scene… Sir,”
the cadet paused looking up at blankness, “he was a prostitute.”
“I know how hard this is for you, and out of respect for our type of honor, I
will not use your name in any report. I will need it and a number to contact
you, but will keep it in my wallet, and not in any file. I respect you for
this,”
“Thank you, Sir. I don’t see how those guys take it for so long, a life of no
love. Thanks again, Sir.”
“Hey, Manuel, you’re a Master, too. You can drop the ‘Sir’,”
“Not when I respect a man as much as I do you after our conversation.”
Ben turned to Ray and with a comical, pleading look asked, “ Can we take him
home, puleeze?” he laughed. “Seriously, if there is anything I can do to help
you I will, and hope that works the other way as well.”
“You can bet it does,” he said reaching in his jacket for a pen and one of his
own personal business size cards. “Here is his name, and my dorm room number
on the back. If you call and I’m not there, just tell my roommate you are from
Blockbuster. I never use them so I know it will be one of you.”
“You’ve got a deal, Manuel. Now let’s buy you a drink,” Ben said and spent the
rest of the evening with Manuel and Ray, as they all three enjoyed the lights
out policy the club had for the night.
* * * |
Assembly Line | NULLIFICATION | <P> </P> | ` "Nah, man, it's not so bad at all," Tom told Erik. He took a swig of his
beer, and continued. "It's a little freaky, yeah, but it doesn't hurt much at
all. I work in the center; we do guys all the time." `
Tom had gone out for a drink, and sat down next to Erik up at the bar. He was
a large guy, having been into weightlifting since he was young. He'd gone in
for processing soon after the center first opened, and so was completely
hairless.
Erik had just moved to the city, having recently finished college and coming
here to start his new job. The first processing center in the college town
he'd been in had only opened up a month before he'd left, so he didn't really
know much about it. None of his buddies had done it by the time he'd moved,
but he'd heard since then that two or three had. He didn't really get the
appeal.
He'd been up at the bar for an hour before Tom came in, and when he noticed
that Tom's eyebrows were gone he figured he'd already been in for it. He was
curious, and Tom was pretty hot, so he'd struck up a conversation.
"So like, you do the cut or what?" Erik asked, curious.
"No, no, it's all done by this machine thing. We do it sort of assembly line
style; there's a lot of stuff that goes into the process," Tom told him,
taking another swig of beer.
"What all do they do?" Erik had already explained how he didn't know much
about it, and Tom was only too happy to talk about it. He tried to talk
everybody into it.
The bartender noticed the two of them and smiled to himself. There he goes
with another one, he thought, rubbing his own hairless head. Tom had been
coming in here for awhile, and between him and some of the other regulars,
they convinced him to go in for it. He'd never regretted it.
"Well, there's the hair thing," Tom smiled, rubbing his head.
"Do they take it all off?" Erik asked.
Tom lifted his shirt up, exposing his chiseled torso. "I used to be really
furry, but now, nope...smooth as a baby's ass." Erik almost involuntarily
reached out to touch Tom's abs, smooth and firm, each muscle standing out on
its own. He popped a boner just feeling him up. "Anyway, it's mostly that, and
then the chop." He pulled out the waistband on his pants, giving Erik a view
of his smooth groin. "And then they move your pisshole down a little lower.
Helps when you're trying to aim for the toilet."
Having his genitals off was something Erik had thought about. It wasn't so
much that he didn't want to do it, but that he really liked his dick. He had
used to masturbate a lot, but lately had lost interest in it. Sex hadn't been
that great, either - he got around and all, but when it came down to it, he'd
almost just as soon watch a really good movie. Even so, he was just...used to
it being there.
Tom could see Erik's eyes locked on his groin. "It's really great, honestly,"
he said. "Ever since I had all that shit out, it just feels awesome. All nice
and smooth. I was a little unsure about it at first, you know? I really liked
having my cock - it was nice and thick, a good dick, but..." he drank another
swig, "it was just kinda time for it to go."
"Yeah, I can see that," Erik replied.
"You think maybe it's time for you?" Tom asked, motioning to the bartender for
another round.
"I dunno," Erik said. "I mean, I've thought about it, but I'm just not
sure..."
"Well, here, look, I'm working tomorrow. Why don't you come down and see how
it all goes then?" Tom suggested. "You can see the whole deal, get a little
tour."
The next day, Erik drove over to the center around 2, like Tom had told him.
It was a pretty unassuming looking office building, with a sign out front
identifying it just as, "Male Processing Center #37."
Erik parked in the lot and walked up to the front door, passing a group of
college guys on their way out. They were giggling and rubbing their groins
through their jeans, sharing the pleasure of their newly empty crotches. Their
freshly denuded heads were still paler than the skin on their faces. "This is
so awesome, dude," one said to another as Erik passed them. "When I get home
I'm just gonna stare at myself naked for awhile." They all laughed in
agreement and headed past Erik to the parking lot.
He walked in the front door. The receptionist was on the phone, but just
pointed him through a door with the sign "Entrance" on it. Erik walked through
that, and found himself in a big locker room. There was a guy sitting at the
desk, with a bunch of keyrings on numbered posts and a clipboard. "Hi," he
greeted Erik. "Name?"
"Uh...Erik Anderson," Erik told the man. "I'm here to see, uh..." he struggled
for a moment to remember Tom's last name, but his train of thought was
interrupted by a loud group of about fifteen youngish guys coming through the
door behind him.
"Yeah, man, I can't believe we're really doing this," one shouted, and they
all shouted and high-fived each other, jumping around excitedly.
The guy behind the desk shouted, "Hey, fellas, quiet down!" He handed Erik a
set of keys and said, "Here ya go, locker fourteen."
"Oh, I, uh," Erik protested for a moment.
"Yeah?" the guy asked, eyeing the group behind him.
Ah, fuck it, Erik thought to himself. "Nothing, thanks," he told the guy, and
went to find locker fourteen. Might as well just do this, he thought himself.
No point in putting it off, right, and it's supposed to be so great. Fuck it,
yeah, I'll do it. There were already two or three others in various states of
undress, three taking their clothes off, and one guy, just done, putting his
clothes back on. He already had his pants on, but Erik noticed his pinkish
skin, newly bare...
He found his locker and stripped down, shoving his gear and and walking, nude,
back up to the desk to hand the guy the key for safekeeping. "Just head
through that door there," he told him, still taking the names of some of the
guys in the big group. Some of them had already stripped down, and were
jumping around, their cocks and balls flopping about.
Erik left them behind and headed through the door the guy had pointed to. An
attendant in this room was helping the men position themselves on a conveyor
belt that ran through the room. One helped Erik up onto it. There were big
slipper-like restraints welded to the belt, and Erik spread his legs and stood
in them while an attendant locked his feet in. His balls dangled down freely
between his legs, and his cock was growing erect.
Another attendant had Erik reach up above himself to an upper converyor belt
with matching handhold-restraints. Erik gripped a stirrup coming down from
above, and the attendant locked his hands into place as well, then left him to
sail down the conveyor belt behind the guys who had been ahead of him in the
locker room. The belt moved slowly, maybe a foot a second. As he passed
through a dark partition, the first of the group of boys behind him was being
strapped in back down the line.
He heard a prerecorded voice speak to him in the darkness. "Breathe deeply and
hold," it said. Erik did, and then closed his eyes as well as he was sprayed
down with some sticky substance. Mechanical sprayers moved around his body,
thickly coating him in the honey-like substance. It tasted bitter, like
shampoo, and he spat it out when it got into his mouth. The spraying stopped,
and he continued moving ahead on the converyor belt.
Erik's skin began to feel warm, then burn a little bit under the caustic goo,
but before it got really painful, warm sprays of water began washing it off
his skin. The goo ran off slowly, taking all of his hair and top layer of skin
with it. Next, blasts of hot hair dried him off, leaving Erik feeling strange
and sexual, never having been so smooth since he first hit puberty. His heart
was racing and his cock stood out stiff and firm.
He moved through another dark partition and into an area where technicians
watched him behind windows, operating controls and checking various readouts.
Erik's eyes met Tom's on the other side of the window, and Tom's eyebrows
arched, then came down as he smiled warmly. Erik winked at him and smiled as
well, then winced as the clamp got ahold of him.
A metal clamp swung up from the middle of the conveyor and attached itself to
Erik's groin. His genitals were pulled away from his body, and the clamp ran
between his asscheeks all the way to his anus. He felt pinpricks through the
area, and quickly felt his groin go numb.
As that happened, another set came down from the sides of his head and held it
steadily in place. He heard a buzzing sound, and started to feel oddly
euphoric. This was great... Unbeknownst to him, microwave emitters were
altering his brain structure a bit, knocking out certain areas of his brain
and stimulating others.
He let out an 'urp!' as a smooth plastic thing slid up into his rectum, then
winced a little as it started to expand. While he couldn't see it, the machine
was widening his rectum a little bit and simultaneously injecting his prostate
gland with an enzyme to make it more sensitive.
His brain felt tingly, but in his heightened state everything that was
happening to him felt absolutely wonderful. Erik could feel a catheter slide
down his cock to his bladder, and relaxed a little as it drained. What
happened next was so sudden he didn't even realize it until it was over. A
needle jabbed him inbetween the legs, right behind his scrotum - it wasn't
painful, due to the anesthetic, but he could feel his skin being peirced and
the object go in. It grabbed his urethra and held it as monofilament blades
shot into his groin and in but a moment swished around, cleanly severing
Erik's genitals completely.
The removed organs were pushed into a holding chamber, and tiny robotic arms
cauterized and sutured Erik's blood vessels, muscles, nerves, and skin back
together, using tiny microsutures so as to cause almost no extra tissue
damage. The spike in his taint pulled his urethra down and attached it to his
new pisshole, suturing it in the same way.
The clamp swung back down from between his legs, and Erik could see that it
had been done. There was a Y-shaped stitch pattern in his crotch with just a
tiny drop of blood. Another claw rose up from the floor and tiny brushes
washed his groin clean, then sprayed the sutures with liquid skin. Other than
the slight shininess of the skin covering, it looked for all the world like
Erik had never had anything there.
The belt led him through a final 'wash cycle' - sprayed warm water and blow
drying again. It finally let off, and Erik was pleased to see Tom waiting for
him.
Tom strode over and immediately started unbuckling Erik from the conveyor.
"Hey, man, I thought you were just coming for the tour!"
Erik was smiling widely, feeling very happy with himself. "Hehe," he laughed.
"No better way than from the inside."
* * * |
Terry - Chapter 17 -The Conclusion | GAY, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES | After more than a year, the story ends. Thanks to those who have shown interest in the story and have followed it for so long. I'm both glad-and sad-that it's finished. It ends differently than I had first envisioned, but, I think, better. | ` `
Terry - part 17 -The Conclusion
In the prison hospital, there had been little attempt to repair the damage
done to my genitals. Even if I hadn't said that I'd cut them off, there
probably wouldn't have been an attempt to restore my cock. My scrotum had been
so shredded that the doctor found it simpler to cut off the excess, stitching
together what was left-the cords to my balls having been tied off with sutures
which would eventually dissolve. With a catheter in my urethra the doctor
connected my urethra to the skin which he pulled together to cover any
evidence I'd ever had a cock. Shaved as my groin was, the stitched wound
looked like a small vagina. Otherwise, my groin was smooth.
Occasionally, during the first two weeks, before the testosterone flushed from
my body, the remainder of my cock would become hard, forming a lump which
strained at the stitches. By the time I returned to the cell, that no longer
occurred.
At first, they weren't going to return me to Terry's cell, but I assured them
he'd had nothing to do with my castration. I'd done it for him. If they
weren't to put me back in his cell, I'd sacrificed my cock and balls for no
reason.
Having no cock or balls, I no longer became aroused like before. There was no
stirring in my groin, even though the vestiges of my cock remained. There were
no balls to produce the testosterone necessary for the swelling of the
remaining erectile tissue or the stimulation of my desires.
By the time I returned to the cell, my stitches had been removed. The only
evidence I'd ever had a cock was an vertical, angry, red, scar, which was
becoming hidden by the stubble of my pubic hair. Once the hair had grown out,
and the scar had paled, there would be none. The scars covering the former
site of my nuts were puckered, but fading fast.
Peeing was a problem. Since I had no cock, I could no longer stand to pee-and
my urethral opening was too high to pee down into the toilet while sitting on
it. Sitting on the toilet, I had to pee on the palm of my hand, letting the
urine run off it into the toilet. I often wished they had relocated the
opening, so I could pee like a girl.
Although I exhibited no physical manifestations of arousal, I wanted Terry.
Still loving him, I wanted to have him-his cock-inside me. I wondered if he'd
changed-if these additional weeks of torture by Snyder had warped him further.
He was noticeably bigger. Although he was clothed-not naked as I'd last seen
him-I could see that he broader through the chest and shoulders.
The first thing he said, after the guard had gone, was, "What did you tell
them, Lyons? Did you tell them I did it?"
He didn't say, "Hello" or "How are you?" He just wanted to know what I'd told
them. "No, I stuck with our story. No matter how many times they asked, I said
that I'd done it to myself. You didn't tell them you did, it, did you?"
"No, I told them you did it to yourself, but they kept asking me if I'd done
it. I was afraid that you'd finked on me."
"What did Snyder say?"
"I think he stuck with the story, but I don't know for sure. He's gone."
Dropping my jaw in disbelief, unable to conceive that-for the first time since
we'd arrived at the Walls-some good had occurred, I said, "Snyder's gone?
How?"
"I don't know for sure, but I think that your getting your cock and balls cut
off on his shift was the last straw. Too many other things had happened. They
transferred him to a different prison."
"Then he hasn't," hesitating, not sure that I should bring it up, "raped you
again?"
I shouldn't have asked, because Terry became furious. "No, and no motherfucker
will ever rape me again. If he tries it, I'll kill him-guard or con."
From the tone of his voice, I had no doubt that Terry meant what he said.
Shackled, or not, he would retaliate the best he could. "And," directing a
look at me which chilled me as much as the words which followed, said, "no one
will ever come in my mouth again. If you ever tell anyone that you did-I'll
kill you. The same goes for what Snyder did, too. You don't tell anyone about
Snyder-understand?"
"No, Terry. I would never tell anyone."
"If I ever hear that you have-I'll kill you."
Although I couldn't have previously imagined that Terry could have said those
words-particularly to me-I believed him. I had let him cut off my cock and
balls so that he could love me. Instead, he hated me. I could see it in his
face-hear it in his voice. I had come in his mouth, and I had witnessed his
degradation. Either was unforgivable. My presence was a constant reminder of
his shame.
During the next six months we were at the Walls, Terry never spoke to me
except to command me. There were never words of friendship. He fucked me,
whenever he felt the need, but never from the front-and he never asked me to
suck his cock. That would have been too intimate. I was no more than a body
with a convenient orifice into which he could eject his semen.
Each time, he fucked me in silence, never moaning or exhibiting any sign of
pleasure or contentment, rolling off me as soon as he finished. It was
fortunate that, after the first few times, I felt no pleasure from being
fucked by him. To show it would have earned me a beating, which I often
received from him, anyway, just because there was no other victim within
reach.
I no longer wanted to be fucked-or loved by Terry. Each fuck was a rape, even
though I offered no resistance. The person I had loved no longer existed. That
boy had died under Snyder's heaving body. Snyder's cock, in penetrating his
ass, had killed his soul.
Working out with weights every day, Terry became strong and hard-almost as
hard as his heart. Made of stone, there was no room in it for love or
compassion. He could have killed me with one hand. At times, I thought he
would.
Eventually, all charges for assaulting Duke were dismissed, and we were
transferred to Connolly. Upon being split up when we arrived, Terry whispered
to me, "Say one fucking thing, and I'll kill you."
Although I occasionally saw him, I never spoke to him again. If he looked at
me, it was to remind me to keep my mouth shut. I avoided him as much as
possible. I was afraid, that, out of sight of the guards, he would kill me, if
given the chance.
From what I heard, I wouldn't have been the first. When two cons had tried to
attack him when he first arrived at Connolly, he had hurt them so badly that
no one else ever tried. I heard that his punks, whom he frequently changed,
lost their cocks and balls. Although each of them had said he had cut off his
own, I suspected that Terry had. The last time I'd seen a look of pleasure on
his face had been when he'd cut off mine.
I was anyone's punk. Since I had no cock or balls, I was a prime piece. Each
fuck was a rape. I cared for none of them-and none cared for me. I was a
convenient hole, unimpeded by a cock or balls. I lost count of how many times
I had been fucked-or of how many men there had been. Although I had once
thought that I would imagine that it was Terry fucking me, when I was raped, I
never did. The Terry I had loved was dead. Some foul creature inhabited his
body.
During our third year at Connolly, Snyder was transferred there. Terry killed
him and is now on death row, awaiting execution.
When I completed my sentence and was released, I went to Houston. I had long
ago stopped returning my parents' letters or permitting them to visit me. The
boy they had raised was dead.
In Houston, I worked-then went home. Having no friends, I was alone. People
looked at me strangely. Without balls, my hips were rounded, and my breasts
protruded. Most thought I was gay-but, although I had been, I no longer was. A
eunuch, I had no sexual desire-and I had been fucked by enough men to last me
a lifetime. At times I thought about killing myself, but haven't-yet.
After I got out, I started writing Harris. Going to Huntsville when they
executed him, I caught a glimpse of him when they transferred him there. He
had wanted me to witness his execution, but, since I was an ex-con, it hadn't
been permitted. I stood vigil outside the Walls during it, though.
I haven't decided whether I'll do likewise when they execute Terry. Maybe I
will-to honor the boy he once was. That won't be for several years. Perhaps I
won't know what I'll do until the day comes.
* * * |
Stevens School Runaways -- Part 10 | GAY, WARNING, MINOR, hist, tort, CBT, sm, psych | The preliminaries are almost over for young Tom in this final section before the real punishments commence. | ` Stevens School Runaways – Part 10 `
“More Festivities”
Tom, the unfortunate 7th grader, lay in a vulnerable position on the wide
table in Examination Room ‘A.’ Naked, spread-eagled, on his stomach, ‘Doc’
Thompson was finishing up with the sensitivity tests. Many of these tests were
painful, some excruciatingly so. None were officially considered punishments.
“Wait until your punishments begin!” Mueller remarked to the well-secured boy,
alluding to this fact.
“You’re a crazy bastard!” Tom cried.
“Actually, I’m quite rational,” Mueller said, “and I know precisely who my
parents are.”
During the next half hour, the school physician, being quite methodical and
indifferent to what he was doing, continued with the tests.
Pinching the boy’s bare skin using pliers, for instance, with careful
comparisons noted between heated pliers and a non-heated instrument. Tom could
certainly tell the difference. He was instructed to indicate ‘hot’ or ‘cold’
based on what the good doctor was using to create results.
“Hot!” Tom screamed, when a microwave-warmed pair of pliers grabbed a fold of
skin along his left side, near his lower back, and pinched hard. Another
exercise involved something that resembled a garden tool shoved up into his
sensitive anus – with his legs spread so wide and several pairs of hands
spreading his butt cheeks – that was extremely unpleasant. “Owwh! What the
heck is that?”
“Good! Excellent reaction, boy,” Thompson said.
Scrapings with a sharp needle were used in many sensitive places on Tom’s bare
skin also. But just after Thompson had obtained several new samples by
scratching the soles of Tom’s feet, Mr. Mason had a bright idea.
“Why not give Tom a preliminary bastinado now – just a taste of it – to see
how he reacts?” he said.
“What’s a bastinado?” Tom asked, his voice more of a whimper.
“It’s like a spanking on the soles of your feet,” said Mrs. O’Neill.
Tom could see her standing next to the table; he was about level with her
bulging midriff from where he was lying, a purple pantsuit from which emanated
that hideous perfume she always wore.
Thompson didn’t want a bastinado – even a trial one – performed on the boy’s
feet – out of sequence. “We usually don’t begin punishments until we get into
the dungeon routine,” he told Mr. Mason.
Mr. Cousins agreed. “There’s no good reason to start that stuff now – you
already have a pretty good idea about how sensitive the soles of Tom’s feet
are,” he pleaded.
“Are you getting soft on these kids?” Graves asked, “You wouldn’t want this
one in bed with you – to feel him up or something?” Graves came just short of
calling Cousins a faggot to his face, but thought better of it. He knew his
kind all too well, and he’d just had his say. Graves was just waiting for
Cousins to give him a proper challenge, so he might haul off and pop the
pervert one – right in the chops.
In fact, a boy like Tom would be better off with a sexual encounter, even with
a pederast, than to have to endure what he would be facing this weekend,
Cousins mused. The man with the Nazi-style wire-rim spectacles but blessed
with a kindly heart almost took up the gauntlet with Graves and the rest of
those sadistic heteros, if that’s what they truly were, right then and there –
but at the last second he thought better of it. “I won’t even dignify that
with a reply,” he said to Graves.
By now, Thompson was swayed anyhow. “Oh, all right!” he said, “Just to stop
this arguing – we’ll give him a few licks with the proper instrument.”
Lying there on his stomach, Tom could only imagine what the “proper
instrument” was.
He was about to find out. He heard a draw opening, probably just beneath that
shelf he’d observed, and something being removed.
Soon Doctor Thompson showed him what it was. “We call this implement ‘The Rod’
– it won’t tickle,” he said. The boy looked at the cruel ping-pong paddle – a
round piece of flat wood with little holes in it attached to a handle for
easier striking. The “business end” of the 2-foot long implement – guaranteed
to raise blisters after about 20 strokes on an exposed boy’s sole – was about
˝ inch thick. A sturdy plastic brace was brought up onto the table after
Mueller had unfastened the straps on Tom’s ankles. This handy device had
indentations – two of them – for placing and securing a boy’s knees. Tom’s
legs, bent at the knees, were soon secured into this harness – although it
left his bare feet about four inches apart and with soles exposed, raised into
the air -- perfect fleshy targets for striking. “Keep those feet as still as
possible,” Thompson said, “I’m going to try and apply the strokes evenly from
the bottom of your heels to the bottoms of your toes, 15 strokes on each foot,
but if you move, and I catch you on an ankle or if I don’t get a clean hit on
the precise location I’m aiming for, you WILL get the stroke over.
Understood?”
Tom knew that this would hurt a lot – even if it didn’t “quite” count for a
punishment. Although the examination on his ventral side hadn’t yet begun,
Thompson had already made several shallow scratches with the needle on Tom’s
soles, especially along his insteps and on the fleshy ball of each of his
feet, some of the little cuts had bled slightly, and the mere thought of a
paddle working the bottoms of his feet while they were in that condition
terrified the boy. “Please sir,” he said, “Can’t you listen to Mr. Cousins?”
Every adult in the small examination room flashed Cousins another glare. “See
what you started?” Mr. Taylor said to Cousins.
Anyway, it was no use.
“Understood boy?” Thompson repeated.
Tom whimpered when he replied, “Yes!” Then he braced himself not knowing
exactly what to expect. Burying his head into a small pillow that someone had
just provided, it was soft, that pillow, like the kind he remembered from
trips he’d taken with his family on commercial passenger jets. He kept
whimpering in a steady cadence while imagining his left foot shaking slightly
from fear. It dangled above the rest of his naked body.
Mr. Thompson nodded to the others in the room, but he didn’t smile, although a
few in the room – such as Mr. Mason -- did. Placing the rod over Tom’s left
sole, he drew back and thwack – Tom let out a howl when contact was made. The
same procedure, waiting, a measured blow, delivered about ten seconds later to
the bare right foot. “Yeowh!” Tom screamed, “Please stop it! Please!” as the
second stroke hit the flesh pad first on the left, then the right. Tom’s soles
were already stinging, and the entreaties continued, the pain was sharp each
time, like a pulse traveling all the way up his leg, as if a red-hot poker had
been applied. By the tenth strokes, the boy was openly sobbing. By the
fifteenth, his soles were reddened and tiny blisters were beginning to form,
but a thwack on his right ankle and the side of his left instep, and another
on a moving big toe, all were extremely painful but needed to be repeated; the
7th grader was obliged to receive 18 strokes on each foot. Before he was
turned over for more ministrations, alcohol was liberally rubbed into his
soles, this stung in a few raw spots – he cried again when Mr. Mason and Mrs.
O’Neill couldn’t resist palpating his very sore feet – it seemed they
continued for several minutes as if to torment him even after the blonde
hazel-eyed 13-year-old had been spread-eagled and secured flat on his back and
the device to lift his feet into the air had been mercifully removed from the
wide table. Once people stopped touching his feet, they didn’t hurt so much,
and it was more tolerable. Tom even got to keep the small pillow. But the same
treatment that Rich had received on his front now became Tom’s trial.
More pinching with pliers on his chest and belly, the needle prospecting for
samples too, the sharp blades of tweezers squeezed shut on his nipples and
then his genitals getting attention, Tom felt the sharp needle stabbing his
left nut and then the right after an agonizing pause, the cruel needle
scratching the underside of his penis, another stab deep into the head of his
penis causing a sudden louder than usual scream, then alcohol was dabbed on
all the places where the needle had gone, and finally a meandering cotton-swab
prefacing the first invasion of Tom’s piss-slit. “No! Please! I hope you’re
not doing what I think you’re doing!” he yelled at the top of his lungs, and
then Mueller came over and slapped his face hard and told him to “Tone it
down! Stop being a baby!” When Tom did quiet and begin softly sobbing out of
pure fear, there was an audible sigh of relief in the room as the danger to
adult eardrums eased.
But only temporarily, as when Tom felt the first alcohol-soaked Q-tip slowly
snake into his pee-hole, around the inner edges at first, but gradually
penetrating deeper into his urethra, making the inside of his cock develop an
excruciating burning sensation, worked slowly, expertly, if such a thing can
be said, “Yeowh! Doc – get that thing out of my cock! Take it out – I beg
you!” Tom was sobbing now, but after the first Q-tip was embedded to the hilt,
about two inches, it was required that they stretch the kid’s urethra, and so
a second was gradually worked in to the 7th grader’s cock, and finally a
third.
“Will we try four? Four’s the magic number,” Mrs. O’Neill quipped, “Richard
was able to take four.”
But no, not this time. “He’s not quite so flexible in there,” Thompson said,
“I think we’ll stop at three.” Tom breathed a sigh of relief at that, even
more so when after they checked Tom’s big toes for hairs and only found a few
very silky tiny ones and plucked those with the tweezers, Thompson than yanked
out the Q-tips all at once – all three “Thank you, doc,” the boy said. Alas, a
few minutes later, his penis was held up again and a straw was inserted into
Tom’s pee-hole the same way it had occurred with Rich, a similar small-bore
(1/8th inch diameter) sharp-edged flat hard plastic stirring straw – gradually
this object was inserted the full two inches in order to obtain additional
urethra scrapings. As with his friend, Tom soon learned that these
ministrations with the sharp little straw – such a common object used to stir
hot drinks like coffee or cocoa – but also quite efficient when employed for
this diabolical purpose.
“Almost done, keep still, stop moving around so much, it can’t hurt that
much,” Thompson cooed, but Tom was sobbing again as the awful man was gently
holding his cock with his index finger and thumb in one hand while continuing
to dig around with the straw, probing very slowly and thoroughly inside his
sensitive urethra with the other, like a dental technician methodically
cleaning the inside surfaces of teeth. Tom couldn’t believe that anything done
to him could hurt so much. “Please, when are you going to be done with this
torture?” Tom finally blurted.
“We don’t use that word at Stevens, son!” Mr. Taylor gently chided, “What
you’re experiencing is just a necessary procedure.”
“When are you going to be finished with this procedure?” Tom choked out with a
dry heave sob.
Finally, it was over, and Mr. Briggs took a few more pictures, he’d been
taking them all along “Don’t mind me. I’m just a fly on the wall!” he joked in
his amiable manner.
After Rich experienced a bit more preliminary attention, including the same
bastinado that Tom had received with the paddle, 15 strokes on each of his
sensitive soles, there was a another brief coffee break for the adults. Once
again, the lights were turned off, except for the Examination Rooms, and the
boys were left alone. This time, they weren’t even secured.
You’re both free to walk around for a few minutes inside this basement area,”
Mr. Mueller said, “Would you like us to bring you back a nice soft drink?”
“In fact, I would encourage you both to walk around so that your feet don’t
swell up,” Mr. Taylor added, “When we come back, we’ll start them off with
their punishments in the dungeon,” he said more softly to Mr. Mueller and Mr.
Thompson. Tom and Rich, sharp-eared lads, happened to overhear that grim
edict.
End of Stevens School Runaways – Part 10
Part 11 – “Dungeon Time”
* * * |
Mr. 13 | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES | He\'s the thirteenth one she\'s done!!! | ` Mr.13 She was a beautiful woman, in her late 30s very tall, with legs any
woman would die for. Why she was talking to me at this bar where she could
have had anyone started to puzzle me!!!! She was dressed to kill, a little
short black dress, black nylons and heels, and my 9" cock was straining down
one pant leg as we talked. I bought us another set of drinks, and then I asked
her! How come a beautiful woman like you is talking to a turd like me? With a
laugh I said!!! She lit a cigarette and with a smile pointed to my lap. I like
a man with a big package. and honey it looks like you got a set of balls that
would put a bull to shame!!!!!! Well maybe will see if you can handle them
than.!!!! I said with a laugh. Putting her cigarette down she rubbed her hand
up my back, saying honey!!!!!! I can take those balls of yours if I want... So
be careful baby,,, don't start something you can't finish!!! My cock was
getting ready to tear through my pant leg at this challenge.... I remember
saying something like I'll fuck you so hard bitch. When I cum you'll think
someone broke a carton of eggs in you!! I'll turn you into a dripping
mess!!!!!!! She crushed her cigarette out and finished her drink. Giggling she
patted my face...... Ok big guy lets see what you can do!!! Follow me to my
place!!! If your man enough!!!! It was an hours drive outside the city in the
country. following her closely all the way, thinking of how I was going to
fuck her brains out. When finally we arrived at her place, an old farmhouse in
the middle of nowhere!! She came over to me as I got out of my car, and
embraced me with a long kiss, her left-hand reached down cupping my balls,
then pulling my zipper down she pulled my cock out which rose to it's full
9in. using it as a handle she pulled to the house, looking over her shoulder
she said, you don't mind me pulling you by your cock do you!!! Big guy? Once
inside she let go, and told me to wait, and to take my clothes off. She said
get yourself ready for me big guy!!!!. I'll be back in a sec..... I
immediately stripped and started pumping my cock, feeling my balls swinging
free in the cool air between my thighs I felt like a stud horse getting ready
to service a bitch!!! This was going to be pure animal lust. I pictured me
humping her. She bent over her kitchen table which I saw in the next room, me
slamming my cock into her, lifting her up off the table with my cock!! She
came back wearing nothing except heels. Her long black hair now up in a bun, a
riding crop dangling from her wrist! She stopped in the middle of the living
room,,, and spreading her legs placed her hands on her hips and said. Ok big
boy fuck me!! I was taken back by her posture and stances, I felt weakness in
my legs at being so boldly confronted by this female!! Well what are you
waiting for!! Me to come to you? I stuck my chest out and flexed my muscles in
a show of male superiority like a Peacock, my balls pulled up then dropped in
their sac, my cock reared up in a display of a virile male, veins
straining!!!! She watched as I crossed the room towards her, a little smile on
her face. Her nipples standing up on her small breasts. Close enough too feel
her body heat, the head of my cock touched her belly!! Suddenly her knee came
up into my balls with devastating effects. I collapsed to the floor like 210
pounds of dead weight!!!! She was on me immediately with her riding crop
whipping me viciously!!!!! Holding my balls in both hands protecting them from
her. I couldn't stop her from using the crop on me. Finally she stopped and
walked away and started fixing a drink for herself, I layed in a ball on the
foor.... Well she said!!!!! Now that we know who's in charge now... Let me
tell you a little about me!!! I've castrated 12 men so far,, you're going to
be lucky 13.. My name is Linda I castrated my first man when I was 14..... It
was my father he raped me first when I was 9 and he would beat my mother
senseless. I cut his balls off and gave into my mother. I always pick the
males with the most to lose!!! Like you a big cock and balls!! When I cut
there balls off I always see my fathers eyes the same disbelief that a girl
has just deballed him!!!! She lit a cigarette and the click of high heels rang
in my ears as she stood at my head.... Get up Mr.13. we've just started.. I
love breaking a big male like you!!! I want you to fuck me!! Rape me!!! I'm
all yours for the taking isn't at why you came here? I slowly got up and stood
before her... My cock was still hard, and my balls were starting to swell from
the impact of her knee.... Come on rape me with that big cock she taunted !!
What's wrong,,, scared I might fuck your balls up again???/ I came at her like
a bull!!!! Fists swinging, She side stepped me and swing around raming her
high heeled foot from behind into my balls again...... I cried in pain and
frustration at this woman who was so easily bring me down!!!! I fell to the
floor again, and felt the hot tip of her cigarette being shoved up my ass!!!
No I cried and got to my knees leaving my balls exposed again to her!!!!! This
time she reached under and grabbed my balls from behind and yanked me back to
the floor, her heel Spike slammed into my ass hole as she pulled my balls
up!!!! I screamed in pain... she was ripping my balls off with her
hand....they were stretched three feet from me!!! Working her heel into my
prostate,,,, my cock started to convulse under me..... I started cuming,,,
pumping load after load out !!!! She pulled her high heel out of my ass and
quickly walked to her drink, Downing it all..... She grabbed something and
quickly came back!!! That high heel sound I'll never forget!!!!!! The sound of
purpose! She reach down and grabbed my balls again, pulling them with all her
strength..... She severed them with one quick stroke!!!!! I felt them hit my
back as she dropped them on me.........She slowly now walked back and fixed
another drink and lit a cigarette. She was trembling. Her hand ran over her
tits down her belly to her pussy
OOOOOOOOOYYYYYYYEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSYYYYESSSSYYESYES YES............
* * *
` |
Adams Lock 3 | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES, MINOR, Chastity | Finally, Adam gets release, but of course with a price. | Laurissa was laying on her tummy across the end of her bed, legs up and
crossed, absentmindedly chewing the end of her pen. She sighed, tired of
writing essay after essay over pointless topics. Vexed, she suddenly brushed
the papers from her bed with a heavy hand, rolling over to her back, her
fingers entwining behind her head.
Adam had heard her sigh of frustration and waited for it. It was amazing he
heard it at all, over the shuffling sounds of her laundry he was doing it.
However, upon hearing it, he instantaneously shuddered, freezing on the stop.
He counted one, two, three breaths, and then-
"Adam!"
Now it was his turn to sigh. Quickly, he tossed the rest of her tees and
panties in the laundry basket and sprinted to her room; he had learned the
lesson of procrastinating a week or so before, he didn't need a review.
He halted in the door way, waiting at attention. Laurissa slowly, smoothly sat
up, motioning him forward. She hadn't noticed the soft chugging sound of the
washing machine down the hall until now, so engrossed in her studies. She
asked almost conversationally, "Laundry?"
Not sure if he was allowed to answer this seemingly innocent question with a
verbal response, Adam nodded, subconsciously covering his groin with his
hands.
She gave him a stern look, and reluctantly he removed the offending blockade.
Suddenly, the flat, bored look in her eyes replaced by a devious sparkle, she
punched him the nuts, her knuckles as extended as she could possibly make
them. Without removing her fist, she said just as casually, "You know, you put
a pair of my pink panties in with my favorite white tee last time." She
twisted her hand, making sure to grind his nuts in nicely.
Adam whimpered in apology, trying to stay standing while trying not to let his
voice break as he stuttered, "I-I'm sor-sorry."
Immediately, she withdrew fist, giving him another look. "Not only did you
just speak aloud," she began, throwing her bare legs over the edge of the bed,
"but you also did not refer to me properly."
She was so small compared to him then; sitting on the bed she barely reached
his chest. Growth spurts had definitely done Adam well; already he was edging
six foot, whereas Laurissa was only of medium height. She leaned back on her
bed, resting upon her elbows. Adam couldn't concentrate on what she was saying
to him; her snug white tee (he noticed the faint pink tint, this must be the
favorite tee that got him in trouble) made her breasts so pronounced, so
touchable. Her long legs stretched out, tapping the floor. She was only
wearing her small pajama shorts otherwise, and white ankle socks.
"Adam!" She snapped suddenly, "Are you not paying attention to me?" He
realized then her left foot was positioned directly under his slightly spread
legs. He gulped, knowing there was no way out of this one.
He barely had time to gulp when her foot came crashing upwards into his balls,
smashing them to what he thought must have been the most painful oblivion. His
vision whited out and he began crumpling forward onto her still extended leg.
Laurissa wiggled her toes for added effect, which she saw Adam appreciated
through his moans.
Having been wearing only his particular pajamas- boxers and a simple Hanes
tee- Adam got the full brunt of the kick. Even through the thick ankle-socks,
Laurissa felt his warmth, the slippery mess that was his sac. Raising her foot
an inch or two, she felt the base of his cock, and his cock lock.
Finally, she left him be, getting up and walking over him in his fetal
position. She stood in the doorway, smirking to herself as she realized he was
crying a bit. When she came back from the kitchen, a glass of orange juice in
her hand, he was still sniffling a bit, his cheeks tearstained.
She sat on her bed once more, and, setting her glass down on the stand, patted
the spot beside her. Unsteadily, Adam rose to his feet, limping over. She
embraced him, kissing his cheek in a light, sisterly way.
"You'd think you'd have gotten used to this much," she said, somewhat
sympathetic, somewhat condescending. Laurissa laughed at the hurt expression
he wore. "Oh Adam, don't be such a sore sport! Besides," she said, her smile
brighter, "Today's your lucky day!"
Immediately Adam perked up, the sensations of pain still there, but ebbing
away into a dull ache. He couldn't help but to get his hopes up as he watched
his sister pull out the key from between her rounded breasts. She teased him
by waggling it in front of his pleading eyes. Already, his hands were touching
himself through the fabric of his boxers, rubbing.
"Feeling better so soon?"
He nodded, the ache for release so much greater than that of the pain she had
just so recently inflicted. His eyes were hopeful, looking into hers with such
a look she laughed again.
"Strip then," she ordered, standing up. Awkwardly, he got up, still
uncomfortable with her seeing him naked, though it wouldn't be the first time,
for sure. Besides from the sometimes bare-contact beatings she inflicted upon
his stuff, and the whole actual cock-locking, Laurissa had given Adam a "test"
handjob and blowjob, just to see if it really did keep him from doing such
naughty things as ejaculating. Unfortunately for him, it did, and quite well.
He stood shyly in front of her, not knowing what she wanted him to do now. He
would do anything for this, and they both knew it. She stood smirking at him,
and asked sweetly, "How long has it been, Adam?"
He didn't answer only for fear of reprisal, but knew full well it had been
over a month since he last masturbated- the act that had gotten him into this
rotten predictament in the first place! She nodded, understanding his concern,
and encouraged, "It's okay to talk now, Adam. Tell me, how long has it been?"
She was enjoying this, he knew.
"A couple days over a month," he said, looking embarrassedly at his feet.
Already his cock stood almost at full attention, bobbing ever so slightly.
"How're they feeling? I bet they're nice and tight, huh? Remember to tell me
how bad it hurts getting hit after you got a nice jack-off session, okay?" She
was talking in such a sweet voice, as if discussing such polite matters as
chores or schoolwork.
He was shifting his weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably, hands
grasping one another. He just wanted to cum so badly, he couldn't take this
stalling much longer. Without thinking, he started, "Umm, ma'am?"
"Yes?" Laurissa asked sharply.
Adam faltered, his hands lamely pointing to his cock, now standing proudly
against his tummy. The lock's plastic body looked as if it was bursting with
his flesh. He could feel the pinching sensations all along his shaft where the
seam started, but the ache, oh god the ache in his balls was so much worse!
Laurissa rolled her eyes; if she stopped this now and made him put his clothes
back on, he wouldn't stop whining for hours, even with punches and kicks.
'Poor boy wouldn't be able to help it,' she thought to herself before
instructing him, "Lay back on the bed, Adam."
He did so, leaning up against her pillows, propping himself up on his arms.
Obviously he wanted to watch. She again took out the key from between her
breasts and carefully unlocked the lock. Adam gasped when he felt such a
release and the cold air hit his penis.
She chuckled at his reaction, gently gripping his shaft. The boy bit his lip;
he didn't realize she would be the one doing this. He just figured she'd set a
time limit and let him lock himself in the bathroom. Suddenly he was
overwhelmed with such a good feeling, such a warm and thick feeling all over.
Laurissa was using one hand, her thumb rubbing the underside of his lower
shaft and then head, alternating between the two. Adam gasped again, biting
his lip harder, his head back, eyes lolling. He squirmed in pleasure, amazed
how long Laurissa could keep this up without him messing already.
Without warning, her pursed lips enveloped his swollen head, the tip of her
tongue exploring his length. He clutched the nearest pillow, willing himself
not to cum in her mouth, knowing she'd probably end up castrating him if he
did so. But she was going so slowly! He was going crazy over her soft, sensual
licks and flickers of the tongue, he couldn't help it.
He tried to make out some kind of signal that he was about to cum, but she
only heard the same moans of pleasure he was making moments before. Her eyes
widened as she swallowed his stuff, feeling the liquidy warmth run down her
throat. One last gulp, and she licked her lips. Adam couldn't believe it; he
had saved up for so long, and his sister just took it like nothing. He felt it
surge through and out of him- it had to be more than a hot cup!
His own eyes wide with exhaustion, shock from such a cozy settling feeling,
and now trepidition over what she'd do to him now that he just cummed in her
throat, Adam tried to sink into the afterglow of such a great jack off. He
practically melted into the fluffy bedding and pillows.
His little trip to paradise was cut short when he felt Laurissa's fingers
pinch the end of his cock, right underneath the head, pulling it as far
forward as possible, much to Adam's discomfort. It was super sensitive now,
even more so that it was usually. He squirmed a bit, jumping slightly as she
snapped the cock lock back on. It hurt, pinching his skin, and made his eyes
water a bit.
"Aw, what's a matter, Adders, didn't you like that? I thought you liked it
when I played with your cock," she said, pinching the skin left exposed with
her nails. Automatically, his legs were drawn to his chest, trying to stop
her, but she pushed them down, relinquishing her grip now onto his low hanging
sac.
He let out a shriek; to have her handling so roughly his nads after such a
release! A long whimper escaped his lips; he couldn't help it now. Her hand
was grasping his pouch, pulling, tugging.
He couldn't take it anymore, he cried out, "Stop! Please, mnfff, stop!" Adam
bit the pillow, trying to stifle his sobs and screams.
Finally, Laurissa relented after one last vicious twist of his nuts, to which
he responded with a shrill yelp. She tossed his clothes upon him, and, walking
out of the doorway, told him, "Get off my bed, now. You better wash that
bedding before I have to go to sleep tonight, too."
She only heard Adam's soft sniffles and whimpers as he clutched himself,
holding what was so dear to him close.
* * * |
Sex And Death With Ma Bell | GAY, TESTICLES, MINOR | Young boy discovers the joys and dangers of phone sex | The phone rang. Robbie reached over quickly to answer it
before the noise could wake up his parents. He had been receiving
calls late into the night ever since he got a telephone with his
own line installed into his bedroom. Of all the birthday presents
he had ever received from his parents, this one was the one he
enjoyed most.
"Are you sleeping?" asked the deep voice on the other end.
"No," Robbie lied.
Robbie enjoyed receiving these after midnight calls. He
couldn't remember how they first began, but he was well into that
age of understanding the sensation of orgasm. He also desired
affection and love. He also knew he desired men.
"What are you wearing?" asked the deep voice.
"Nothing," Robbie replied. And this was true. Ever since
Robbie began puberty at eleven-years-old, he started sleeping in
the nude. This was also at the same time that his older sister
moved out of the house, and his younger brother moved into her
bedroom. Privacy to explore his awakening sexuality was what
Robbie desired most. Robbie was fourteen, now.
"Is your dick hard?" whispered the manly voice.
"A little," whispered Robbie back.
"Why don't you play with it?" suggested the stranger.
Robbie had been playing with it ever since he answered the
phone and realized that he was going to be able to masturbate again
to this soothing, masculine voice instructing him.
Robbie loved being instructed on what to do. This awakened
a desire in him that he didn't understand, but only knew that it
felt good.
"It's really hard now," volunteered Robbie.
"I want you to slowly massage your peter for me, okay?"
said the man.
"Okay," said Robbie.
"Have you ever felt your butt hole, Robbie?" The man had
known Robbie's name for several weeks now. Robbie had told him
during one late-night telephone conversation. He hadn't meant to
give his real name, but then he thought it didn't matter since his
real name was Robert - everyone had just called him Robbie since he
was little - and that the man didn't know his last name.
"I want you to put your middle finger in your mouth and get
it very wet for me. Just keep moving it around in your mouth,"
said the man.
Robbie knew what the man wanted him to do. He had asked
before and Robbie had done it. He hadn't done it the first time,
he just acted like he did. At first, Robbie thought it was gross
to put your finger up your butt. But, alone in the bathtub one
night, he tried it. He remembered the man's suggestion on the
phone the night before, and he tried it. It was uncomfortable at
first, but he started liking it.
"Spread your legs wide apart for me, Robbie. Now, put your
finger down there on your tiny butthole. I want you to slowly put
your finger into your little butt, okay?" whispered the man.
"Okay," moaned Robbie as he inserted his saliva soaked
finger into his anus.
"Move it in and out, in and out, for me," said the man.
"Mmmmm," moaned Robbie as he pushed his finger all the way
into his butt and then pulled it out and then in again.
"Robbie, my dick is very hard thinking about you touching
yourself in your private places," said the man.
"Are you jacking your dick?" asked Robbie.
"Yes, I'm playing with my dick. I wish you were here with
me." said the man.
Robbie felt the excitement churning in the pit of his
stomach. Talking dirty to another man on the telephone seemed so
forbidden and secret. Secret. That was what made this situation
special for Robbie. It was his secret.
Robbie's balls had disappeared inside of him. This always
happened when he was close to coming. The first time his balls
disappeared, this scared him a lot. But then he learned that all
he had to do was press on his abdomen, and they fell back down into
his sack.
"I'm very close to coming," said Robbie.
"Me, too. I want you to come with me, okay?" said the man.
"Okay," replied Robbie, breathing heavily.
"Okay, I'm getting close. Jerk your dick, Robbie. I want
you to shoot on your belly. Are you going to come?" asked the man.
"Ahhh, oh, yes, oh, yes -- I'M GONNA SHOOT!" screamed
Robbie in a high whisper as his semen spurted from the end of his
fourteen-year-old dick and landed on his stomach and chest.
"Goodnight, Robbie," said the man and then Robbie heard the
click as the man put the receiver into its cradle.
Robbie reached over to his nightstand and retrieved a
tissue to clean himself up. The conversations always went the same
way, and Robbie was desiring a change. If only he knew someone to
call or if someone else would just call him.
-----------
The phone rang.
"Are you sleeping," asked the deep voice.
"No," Robbie said.
"I'm down the road from your house at a grocery store on
the corner," said the man.
The man didn't know where Robbie lived. All he knew was
the neighborhood where he lived. Robbie was very nervous about
telling the man where his house was. What if he was some deranged
killer of little boys? What if he came back later and broke into
the house to rob them? What if his parents found out?
Robbie hesitated.
"I want you to stand up in front of your bedroom window so
that I can see you," said the man.
"Okay," said Robbie.
"How do I get to your house from here?" asked the man.
"My bedroom window faces the alley. It is a first floor
window on the right side of the house," said Robbie.
The man hung up the phone. Robbie turned out his bedroom
light and opened his mini-blinds. He wanted to see the man before
the man saw him. He waited in front of the window.
The phone rang.
"I didn't see you," said the man.
"I think you went down the wrong alley. Go down the alley
that is closest to the grocery store where you are at," said Robbie.
Robbie took his place in front of the window again. He saw
a car coming slowly down the alley toward his house. His stomach
contracted as the butterflies fluttered around inside of him. He
was extremely excited. He was so excited that he couldn't get a
hard-on. As the car approached, Robbie turned on his bedroom
light. The car stopped suddenly.
What if the neighbors saw him standing here in front of the
window? He was wearing gym shorts, but what would they think?
Robbie pulled his gym shorts off and stood in front of the
window naked. He started massaging his penis which quickly grew to
attention. He couldn't believe that he was actually doing this.
What if this guy was ugly? What if he didn't like Robbie?
Robbie had always been self-conscious of his body. He felt
that his penis was small. He had just begun a new school this fall
where they took showers in gym class. He was failing gym because
he was always faking sickness. He couldn't take his clothes off in
front of the other guys. He couldn't let them see his small penis
and testicles.
And here he stood in front of an open window displaying his
entire body to a man whom he had never seen. This was different,
though. The feeling in the pit of his stomach was very different
this time. It wasn't like the nervous dread he experienced in gym
class. This feeling was good.
Robbie closed the blinds and turned off the light.
The phone rang.
"Why don't you come out to my car?" asked the man.
"I don't know if I should leave the house. What if my
parents come and knock on my bedroom door while I'm out?" replied
Robbie.
"Just come out for a minute. They won't knock on your
door," said the man.
"Why don't you come up to my window?" suggested Robbie.
"I don't want any of the neighbors looking out their
windows and seeing me standing at your window. They might call the
police," said the man.
"Okay," sighed Robbie.
When the car approached again, Robbie climbed out his
bedroom window and headed for the alley. He had put his gym shorts
back on. He wasn't stupid enough to walk outside naked. But he
wanted to. He was so excited.
He approached the side of the car. The man was smoking a
cigarette. Robbie couldn't see his face at first. He got closer
and leaned down to look in the open window.
"How are you doing?" asked the man.
The man was about thirty-years-old. His hair was thinning
on top, but he still looked good. Actually, this may have made him
look better, thought Robbie. He had a nice face and body overall.
He had a little bit of a beer belly. Robbie was attracted to him.
"I don't think it is safe for us to stand here and talk.
Why don't you get in and we will drive around the block?" said the
man.
"I don't know. I really don't think I should leave,"
Robbie said as he swallowed a tight knot in his throat.
"Show me your dick," said the man.
"Its not hard right now," Robbie said nervously.
"That's okay. I just want to see it," said the man as
Robbie pulled the front of his gym shorts down so that the man
could get a close look at Robbie's genitals.
Robbie had shrivelled up quite small. He was very
nervous. He was nervous about being out here in the open, in the
public, with his dick pulled out of his pants and showing it to a
man in a car. A man in a car that he didn't know. He didn't even
know this man's name.
"What's your name?" asked Robbie as the man reached out of
the car and encircled Robbie's flaccid penis.
"Richard," replied the man. "If you get into my car, we
won't have to worry about someone seeing us."
Robbie hesitated then said, "Okay."
Robbie went around to the other side of the car and got
in. There was a lot of stuff on the floor and in the back seat.
There were a lot of empty beer cans and cigarette packs.
The man reached over and put his hand on Robbie's leg. The
man rubbed his hand up and down Robbie's thigh.
"Can I see your dick?" asked Robbie.
"We better not do it here," said the man.
"I showed you mine here," said Robbie disappointedly.
"Sure," said the man.
The man unzipped his jeans and pulled out his dick. He was
soft and short. It wasn't very thick either. Robbie always
thought that older men's penises were always big.
The man quickly concealed his cock. Robbie was
disappointed that he didn't get to touch it. He had never touched a
grown man's penis. He had never touched any other penis besides
his own. He had seen naked men in magazines with women, but the
only penis he had seen in person was his dad's. And that was by
accident.
Robbie had gotten up late one night to get a drink. As he
passed by the living room, he saw his dad lying on the sofa. His
dad was watching t.v. Robbie looked away, but then quickly
registered that something was different. His dad was naked - and
massaging his erection. His dad was jerking off! Robbie
remembered thinking that it looked awfully big, but then he was
only ten at the time. He quickly returned to his bedroom, thirsty,
because he was afraid that his dad would see him and get mad.
"Why don't you take your shorts off?" said the man as he
reached over to help Robbie remove them before Robbie could
object.
As the shorts came off of his feet, Robbie was very
nervous. The man laid the shorts outside of the car on the ground
by the trash cans.
"Let's drive to a more private place so that I can get to
know you better," said the man as he put the car in gear and the
car started moving.
"No, I think I should go back to ...."
"No, sit still and we'll just drive over to this other
alley where we can have some privacy," said the man.
The car rolled out of the alley onto the street. The man
turned the car in the wrong direction for the other alley.
"I think we should go down to the boat docks instead. That
way we will be sure to be away from any houses where someone might
look out the window and see us," said the man.
Robbie was very scared about going so far away from home,
this late at night, with a man he didn't know. What if his parents
got up? He was naked. He didn't have any clothes to put on if he
needed to put them on. What had he gotten himself into.
"I really think we should go back," said Robbie.
"Why? Are you scared?" asked the man.
"We left my shorts by the trash cans. What if the police
stop us for some reason and see me naked here in your car?" Robbie
said hoping that this would worry the man enough so that he would
turn around and go back.
"The police won't stop us," said the man as he kept driving.
"I want to go back. Stop the car and let me out! I want
out now. I don't want to go with you to the boat docks. This
isn't safe ...."
-----------
When Robbie woke up, his head hurt. The man had hit him.
He remembered telling the man to let him out, and then the man hit
him. Robbie didn't know where he was. Where was the man? How
long had he been unconscious?
"Did you have a nice nap," said a man with a big grin on
his face.
"Why did you hit me?" asked Robbie.
They were moving. Robbie could feel the vibrations of the
car as it drove along. But the man was over top of him looking him
in the face. How could he do this? Who was driving the car?
"I'm sorry that Richie had to hurt you, but he said you were
getting a little antsy," said the man.
"Who are you," asked Robbie.
"I'm a friend of Richie's. You know, he's been talking
about you for weeks. He told us you sounded nice on the phone and
that you were, well, that you liked big boys. You can call me
Johnny," said the man.
Johnny looked younger than Richard had looked. But Johnny
looked mean. He had razor stubble on his face that was separated
by a scar running down his right cheek. Johnny's eyes were big and
dark.
Robbie became very scared and started to cry. "What are
you going to do to me? I want to go home!" Robbie started crying.
"Don't get carried away. If you stay nice and calm, we
won't have to hurt you. Are you going to calm down?" asked the man.
Robbie realized that he was lying on a bed. He was in a
large camper.
"Hey, Jeff," yelled Johnny toward the front. "Don't drive
too fast. I want to sample the goods before we get there." Johnny
turned back toward Robbie with a big grin on his face.
"You wait here. I'll be back in a minute," said Johnny.
Robbie rolled over onto his side and started crying. Why
did I ever leave my bedroom? thought Robbie to himself. You hear
your whole life about not talking to strangers, and here I go and
talk to one about sex. What am I going to do? I want to go home.
Robbie felt flesh slide up next to him in the bed. His
body immediately tensed as the man reached around to cup Robbie's
penis.
"This won't hurt as much if you don't tense up," said
Johnny.
"Please don't do this to me. Please let me go home! I
won't tell anyone, I promise," pleaded Robbie as the man rolled
Robbie onto his back and climbed on top of him.
The man's weight was more than Robbie could stand. He felt
as if he was going to suffocate. Then, the man put his mouth over
Robbie's. Robbie tried to turn his head away from the persistent
man. Kissing a man was something that Robbie had not imagined
doing.
Robbie fought back as the man began prying Robbie's lips
open with his tongue.
"No! Stop," pleaded Robbie.
"Open your mouth, now," demanded the man.
The man's tongue entered Robbie's mouth and began
exploring. Robbie felt a churning in the bottom of his stomach.
He didn't think he was going to be able to hold down his stomach.
He didn't like having this man's tongue in his mouth.
The man lifted Robbie's legs into the air and forcefully
rammed his erect penis into Robbie's anus. Robbie screamed out at
the initial plunge and felt as if he would pass out from the
intense pain shooting through his gut.
"Oh, God! Please take it out!" pleaded Robbie as tears of
pain and fear ran down his face.
"Oh, yes. This feels so good," moaned the man.
Robbie awoke and found once again that his environment had
changed. He started to rise but discovered that he couldn't.
Where am I? thought Robbie. Please, oh, please just let me
go home. Let me wake up in my own bed and this horrible nightmare
be over.
The bright lights in the room shown down on Robbie's naked
body lying on the table. Beside the table was a tray of sterile,
metal instruments. The room smelled of antiseptic. Robbie began
to panic, but he was unable to express this panic outwardly.
"We agreed upon ten-grand," said the man.
"You were supposed to deliver him to me unharmed," said
another man's voice.
"There is nothing wrong with him," said the man.
"There isn't now that I've put his ass back together. Our
guests wouldn't be happy with a boy who had his guts ripped out by
one of your goons!" retaliated the other voice. "Well, he is
healthy, and he does look good. He should make our guests happy.
Smith, give him the other two-grand," said the doctor to Smith.
The doctor bent over Robbie and looked into his eyes. He
shown his light into Robbie's eyes. "You can tell by the dilation
of the pupils that he is scared shitless," said the doctor. "I
want you to bring our guests over to the table to see him before we
begin," instructed the doctor to his assistant.
Robbie tried pleading with his eyes, but the doctor turned
away.
Robbie looked up and saw different faces. There were many
men in the room seeing Robbie lying naked on this table. He tried
to cover his nakedness, but still couldn't move. He pleaded with
his eyes for someone to help him.
"Okay, gentlemen, let's take our places. Though, Robbie,
can't move right now and can't talk, he will have no trouble
verbally expressing his discomfort when we begin," said the doctor.
Robbie saw the doctor reach for a long knife laying on the
tray beside the bed. His eyes opened wide as he saw the doctor
lower the knife to his genitals.
Robbie screamed as he felt white, searing pain shoot
through his penis and up into his head. Oh, God! he thought.
They're cutting off my dick.
Robbie continued to scream as the doctor worked carefully
on the removal of Robbie's genitals. The doctor had many clients
who paid well for his services. The penises of young boy's were a
highly desirable item to some of the extremely wealthy.
As Robbie's vision started to darken, he saw the doctor
placing his penis and scrotum on a tray ....
------------
Pamphlets were circulated around the neighborhood begging
for any information concerning another missing youth. If you have
any information, please call this number.
"All of us here in the city are working hard to find Robbie
who has been missing now for two weeks. If you know anything,
would you please call this number," said Richard as he handed the
flyer to the man at the door.
"Hey, dad. I'm going over to the field to play some ball,"
said the boy as he raced out the door past his father and the man
passing out the missing boy flyer.
"Kids today," said the man with a proud grin on his face.
"He looks like a fine young man. How old is your son,
sir?" asked Richard. |
Roman House of Slave Discipline | GAY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, MINOR, Execution | Excerpts from Slave Mater Lucullus\' Memoirs | ` Roman House of Slave Discipline `
Lucullus had been master of the House of Slave Discipline for over ten years.
He excelled at his craft, which consisted of punishing slaves for
transgressions against their master’s will. His “house” was a camp located
about thirty miles outside of Rome. His success was founded on how many of
those he discipline survived. Few that were healthy to begin with died because
of his discipline. Also, all that returned to their masters dreaded another
trip to his “house” so much that they seldom gave offense against their
masters again. Lucullus had grown quite rich from his craft over the years. To
preserve his experiences, he left records of his methods and descriptions of
how his more difficult cases were handled. Here is a tale excerpted from his
records.
Putting My Nightmare to Rest
In the spring, I had begun having a strange, repetitive nightmare, in which
thousands of strangely garbed soldiers marched over the world, destroying all
in their path. They were tall, blue eyed, golden-haired men. Anything that
stood in their path was destroyed. I always awoke from this horrid dream just
as they were nearing my home. Awakening in a tense sweat, I would listen a few
minutes for the sound of their approaching footfalls, then drift back into
uneasy sleep when I could detect only silence.
Slave Baltus had been sent for severe discipline. His master and mistress had
personally brought him to me. They discussed his crimes with me . Baltus had
forcibly raped their daughter and son while they had been entrusted to his
care. The children had told their parents of their mistreatment as soon as
they had returned. Baltus smirkingly claimed that they had come to him,
insisting that he service them, and that he had merely obliged. The parents,
having seen their children’s injuries decided to have me discipline Baltus.
Baltus would be made a eunuch, and I presented the types of eunuch to the
parents. Normally, a male slave would be castrated by tearing his testicles
out of their sack. The other methods were complete removal of the sack and its
contents by cutting, followed by cauterization with a hot iron; crushing the
testicles to a fine paste in their sack and letting them be absorbed by the
body; crushing the cords that held the testicles and letting them die in the
sack; tying off the sack and its contents with a wet rawhide thong, which,
when dry, would cut off all blood to the slave’s eggs causing them to dry up
and fall off after some time. We all agreed that Baltus would be castrated by
crushing his balls in the sack, the most extremely painful punishment of all
the castrations. The patricians signed the necessary papers and declined to
stay to watch Baltus being punished. They left, after handing me a large sack
of silver coins in payment for my services.
When Baltus was brought before me, I started with the shock of recognition.
Here stood the embodiment of the soldiers in my dream, lacking only their
strange uniform and odd weapons. Baltus was a teutonic warrior, captured by
our legions in the forest near Vinograd. He had put up a fierce fight,
although unarmed, and it had required great effort to subdue him. Brought to
Rome in chains, he had fetched a good price at the slave market, given his
health and strength.
Baltus’ Latin, though delivered with a heavy teutonic accent, was perfectly
understandable. He mistook my initial shock for fear, but reined in his
aggression when he saw the determined look in my eyes. His first remark,
preceded by “You weak little Roman puppy, I’ll. . .” died in his throat when a
nod from me signaled that his neck chain be tightened. “Listen, slave Baltus.
You are here to be punished and that will be done. You have no say in this
matter and the less you say the easier it will go for you. Do you understand
that?” A sullen nod of affirmation from Baltus.
I had the guards take him to the strongest holding cell in the camp. There,
his one ankle was chained to the wall. The chain was long enough to let him to
reach the bed, table and chamber pot. The doors and windows were strongly
barred, and his chain was short enough to allow a warder to place food on the
table while staying out of the prisoner’s reach. After Baltus had been locked
away, I called in my carpenter to outline a construction project. When a slave
is crush-castrated, he is chained upright to a post, his penis tied pointing
upward, his testicles held away from his body in a pan supported by a strong
crossbar. They are held in place by an iron bar fastened across the stretched
scrotal sac. Using a heavy mallet with its head curved to match the shape of
the pan, the castrator smashes the testicles repeatedly until they are the
consistency of wet meal. The whole process takes about five minutes. A strong-
armed man can reduce testicles to the required consistency with about twenty
well-directed blows. The first few blows with the mallet always cause the
slave to pass out, so his pain is intense but brief. For Baltus I had designed
a much slower and more painful method.
After I had outlined the apparatus to my carpenter, he shook his head. “Good
idea, Lucullus. I’d sure hate to have it used on me!” He said he would need
about a week to get it built, some materials would have to be ordered and that
would take time. After he left with the drawings, I thought over Baltus’ fate.
A young newling (newly made eunuch) had eyes for Baltus. I had noticed his
interest when we were taking Baltus across the courtyard to his cell. The
newling’s name was Derus. I had made a mental note of his interest for use
later.
Derus had been sent here because of his uncontrollable desire to service men.
His family already had two other sons of normal sexual tendencies, so they
decided to finance a new home by his sale into eunuch slavery. Since he was so
pretty, having curly black hair, blue eyes and an attractively slender build,
it was decided to make him a serving slave to one of the patrician families.
Although Derus was sexually driven, he was intelligent enough to be trained in
some of the longer-term useful slave skills. Derus underwent his castration
willingly, as he had always considered his stones to be heavy, unsightly,
useless and disgusting. I had removed his sac and its contents, carefully
sewing up the flaps to form a five pointed star as the scar. This star shaped
scar is the trademark of my castrations. I am proud that I have rarely lost a
eunuch to illness after removing his balls.
As further punishment of Baltus, that evening I took a contingent of guards to
his cell and told them to fasten him to the heavy oak table in his cell.
Baltus, thinking I had come to cut off his balls, fought like a man insane. It
took six men to subdue him and fasten his leg and wrist irons to the table.
Even so immobilized, he continued to struggle. I dismissed the guards and sent
for Derus, who came quickly. At the sight of Baltus struggling while fettered
to the table, Derus whistled and drank in the sight of male muscles coated
with a sheen of sweat. I told Derus, “He’s all yours.” Derus walked all around
the table, while Baltus, still thinking he was about to be castrated,
continued to struggle and curse. I left the cell, closing the door after me,
but positioned myself at the peephole to check the goings-on. Sure enough,
Derus was already busily sucking Baltus’ cock with great gusto. His black
curl-covered head was bobbing slowly up and down between Baltus’ legs. For his
part, Baltus had stopped struggling and cursing as his cock hardened. Derus
held his balls with one hand while sucking. Soon Baltus was completely
aroused. He ordered Derus not to stop, then cried out as he came. I could see
Derus’ throat working hard to swallow as Baltus pumped jet after jet of semen
into it. Derus stood up and continued gazing at the spent Baltus. “I think you
could go again,” he said. Without waiting, he proceeded to lick and suck
Baltus hard again. This time, he straddled Baltus and lowered his tight little
ass over Baltus’ hard-on. Now erect himself, Derus, at first slowly, then
faster and faster, moved his butt up and down. Sometimes he would drop all the
way down so that his cheeks were pressed against Baltus’ belly, then he would
rapidly move his bottom around in circles. I watched. “Oh, faster!,” Baltus
cried. “Don’t stop.” This time, his shout of release was accompanied by a few
small whitish jets of fluid from Derus’ dick. Soon after, Derus dismounted,
took some water and a rag and washed Baltus off. He gave Baltus’ balls a kiss,
then came to the door to be let out. “Thank you, master Lucullus,” he said. “I
very much liked that. Can I be let in again soon?” “You’ll be let in tomorrow
night again,” I said. Derus smiled, bowed then raced off to his quarters. I
sent the guards to free Baltus from the table so that he could roam his cell
with only one leg chained.
That night my dream returned. Awakening in a cold sweat, I downed a few
glasses of strong wine to go back to sleep. In the morning, I checked on the
construction of the new apparatus. To my surprise, it was nearly finished. My
carpenter was only awaiting a T-shaped iron rod he had ordered from the
swordsmith in Rome. The T-rod would hold the balls in place for the new
crusher to work. The stem of the T would keep the balls separated in the sac
so that each would be in its own separate cup. The crossbar of the T would
hold the orbs away from the body and keep them from drawing up toward the
groin and so leaving the cup. The purpose of keeping the balls separate was to
allow each to be individually crushed, and slowly at that. To this end, the
convex head of the iron crusher was attached to an extremely long iron rod,
which had a hole in the far end, through which a stout cord was passed, then
looped over a pulley and tied to a large bucket. Water would slowly pour into
the bucked through a stopcock, to allow regulation of the speed the bucket
filled. The weight of the water would be multiplied by the leverage of the rod
so that, as the bucket filled, the slave’s orb would be subject to ever
greater pressure, with the end result being that the testicle would suddenly
give way and spread out in the cup under the crusher. When this happened, a
small bell at the end of the rod would be rung by the abrupt upward movement
of the rod’s long end. That would signal that it was time to position the
crusher over the other ball. This design had been inspired by Baltus’
insolence and arrogance. I told the carpenter to notify me when the T-rod
arrived.
That night I let Derus into Baltus’ cell again. This time, Baltus submitted to
being restrained to the table after only some grumbling. It was necessary.
Knowing how he had treated his Roman owners’ children. After all, I didn’t
want him damaging an extremely valuable eunuch slave like Derus. This way,
Derus could have his fun and I wouldn’t have to worry. I left, telling Derus I
would return later to let him out. There is a good deal of paperwork in
running the camp, and I didn’t want to get behind, especially with so many
predatory merchants out there as well as clients trying to avoid paying for my
services.
While straightening out the accounts by oil lamp, one of the guards brought a
boy in to talk to me. The boy, named Capo, had been badly used. An examination
showed that he had been anally raped and bruised around the genitals. His
penis was bleeding and his balls had been squeezed very hard, to judge from
the amount of swelling. The boy had been quartered in the boys’ section, where
no grown slave was allowed for any reason. Only guards, and those always in
pairs, were permitted there. I questioned the boy and the guard. The guard
said that he had heard screams and a struggle in the boys’ section and had
hastened there with another guard. They had found Capo bleeding and injured on
the floor of his room. For his part, Capo stated that a large nubian had
entered his room earlier in the evening and had forced himself on him. Capo
said that when he had complained of the pain, the nubian had squeezed his
balls so hard that he had passed out from the pain. When he woke up, the
nubian had told him that he should endure his fucking like a man, otherwise
there would be other, worse pain. Capo had tried to, but the Nubian was too
large and rough, so he struggled and screamed. The nubian had run off when he
heard the guards approaching. Feeling sorry for Capo, I had the camp physician
awakened to treat his wounds, cuts, bruises and swollen scrotum. Then,
enraged, I took four guards and went quickly to the men's quarters to find the
nubian. As there were only three in the camp, finding the right one was easy.
He was covered with sweat, pretending to be asleep but breathing too heavily.
I had the guards chain him up and bring him before the boy. Capo was terrified
at the sight of the nubian, but identified him as being the one. “What’s your
name, nubian?” I asked. “Cabul,” he replied. “You are aware that the boys’
section is strictly off-limits to everyone except for pairs of guards by my
personal order?” Cabul hung his head. “Take him out to the courtyard, guards,
strip him and chain him between the punishment posts.” I ordered. The guards
hustled Cabul out into the courtyard. This sort of defiance had to be dealt
with immediately. I ordered a general assembly in the courtyard to demonstrate
to all what defiance of my orders would result in. Cabul was hanging by his
wrists between the posts. Naked, his ebony skin glistened in the torchlight. I
ordered his feet shackled to the posts so that he was spread-eagled between
them. The boy’s shit and blood were still there on his enormous tool. I
described his crime of disobedience to the assembled men. “You are all to
watch this carefully, for this is the punishment for disobeying my orders.” I
said, then walked to Cabul and hacked off his prick and balls with my short
sword. His works fell to the ground in front of him followed by a cascade of
blood. Cabul screamed, howled and struggled as the pool of blood before him
grew. After some time his struggles grew weaker, his breathing got rapid and
labored and his skin went from shining ebony to a pasty gray. In a little
while after, he was dead, hanging limply between the posts. I dismissed the
men and ordered his corpse dismembered and fed to the dogs.
Having restored discipline, I went to let Derus out. When I got there, a look
through the peephole revealed him still working on Baltus, trying to arouse
him for another round of activity. For his part, Baltus was now trying to talk
Derus into setting him free of his restraints. Baltus went on about how much
more fun they could have if he were free to use his hands and move about.
Derus, realizing that Baltus had been completely drained for the evening,
stood up and looked at Baltus. “Listen, Teuton,” he said, “You’re not fooling
me at all. Do you think I’m going to let you loose to do to me what you did to
those two kids in Rome?” Baltus was silent and looked away. “Just because I’ve
got the hots for you doesn’t mean that I’m stupid,” he continued. “Pretty soon
now you’ll be a eunuch just like me and those big balls of yours will become
dogshit. Now, here’s just a foretaste of what you’re going to get,” Derus
paused, bent over Baltus, took his right ball in his mouth, then bit down
hard. Baltus screamed in pain. Derus backed off, smiling, then came to the
door to be let out. “Lucullus, I’ve had enough of Baltus for myself, but on
your order I will come back as often as you like.” “He is scheduled for
tomorrow, so he won’t be in any mood for fun for quite some time.” I said.
Derus smiled knowingly and walked off toward his quarters.
It took seven guards to get Baltus into my newly constructed apparatus. He was
tightly strapped vertically to a heavy post with his hands manacled behind his
back. His feet were also manacled behind the post. After he was immobilized,
the guards blindfolded him so that he couldn’t see who was setting him up for
the crushing. First, the double pan was raised to the proper height to hold
his balls. Next, his nuts were stretched out away from his body so that they
were over the pan. A heavy metal band was put over his stretched sac between
his body and the pan to hold his nuts in place. The iron T-rod was placed
between his balls to separate them and fastened down so that they were tightly
held in the double pan. Baltus was now ready. I placed the head of the crusher
over his right ball and adjusted it so that it would go straight down, forcing
the testicle to spread out in the pan as the pressure increased. Last, I
opened the stopcock so that water began to drip slowly into the bucket. One of
the guards would stand duty and notify me when the testicle gave way,
releasing its contents into the part of the sac held in the pan. The crusher
worked perfectly. After some time, Baltus began to curse and groan, struggling
mightily to pull his ball out from under the crusher. After a few hours, the
bell rang as his ball stopped trying to hold its contents. Summoned by the
guard, I examined the pan. His right ball had been crushed into small chunks
that were in the sac around the crusher’s head. The crusher was pressed
tightly against the bottom of the pan, with only the sac skin between it and
the bowl. Baltus had passed out from the pain when his right nut had burst.. A
few splashes of cold water woke him up again. After emptying the bucket of
water, I placed the crusher over his left egg. Again, the water was allowed to
flow into the bucket. Certain of the results, I went off to my quarters to get
some sleep. It was nearly sunrise when the guard woke me to report: “He’s done
now.” Baltus had passed out again. We revived him and I began the enjoyable
task of pounding the contents of his sac to the consistency of a thick, smooth
soup. I took my time, pausing to have Baltus brought around each time he
passed out from the pain. When I finished, his sac had a thick liquid in it.
No trace of his proud teutonic eggs remained. I had him taken down from the
pole and carried by the guards to his cell. There he was strapped to the
bench, and his sac was iced to keep it from swelling too much. Even so, I knew
that for the next few weeks, as his body reabsorbed his crushed balls, his
scrotum would swell to the size of a large orange, agonizingly painful to the
touch. Strapped to the bench, he looked at me. His wit had not deserted him.
“So Lucullus,” he said, ”you’ve made a true Roman of me.”
To my horror, the dream returned that night, frightening as ever. Suddenly, it
came to me that Baltus may have spawned an heir when he raped the patrician
girl in Rome.
A few days later, my messenger returned from Rome to tell me that the girl was
indeed pregnant, most likely with Baltus’ child. The parents intended to
expose the child, but I realized that someone would pick up a healthy blue-
eyed baby and raise it rather than let it die of exposure. With haste, I
departed by horse for Rome, arriving at the patrician couple’s house two days
later. The daughter was in already labor. I explained to the parents that the
child could not be allowed to reproduce. Since they were going to expose the
baby anyway, they didn’t really care what I did to it. I stayed in a nearby
hostel until news of the birth of a healthy blue-eyed, straw-haired baby boy
was brought to me. Then I hurried to their house. Explaining that the child
would best be raised as a slave, I offered them a few gold pieces to take the
baby off their hands. No sooner did I have the child back at the camp than I
lay it down, removed its wrappings and carefully pinched its tiny balls until
they were no more. The child struggled, kicked, screamed and cried as I
carefully made it into a eunuch with my powerful hands. I gave it to two of my
eunuch attendants to raise as their own.
That night, I slept a blissful sleep, undisturbed by terrifying dreams. And I
have not dreamed so since. Now I feel that I have fulfilled my destiny and may
die in peace.
* * * |
Lindas toy...part 1 | STRAIGHT, TESTICLES | Linda turns her hubbys genitals into her sex toys... | After the surgery that rerouted Mikes piss tube out of his body...just behind
his nuts...Linda began stretching her slave husbands cock...to almost 10
inches by keeping it tightly laced into a leather harness.
She'd done alot of research and fnally knew how to let him keep his cock...but
make it hers as well. Mie was assured he would feelhis cock, every second for
the rest of his life...and ageed....foolishly... to let her moify it in order
for him to keep it attached.
linda fed him 200mg of viagra and sucked him hard....then tied a thick cord
around the base of his shaft to keep him hard. he hadn't been allowed to cum
for weeks...and was horribly horny.
During the piss tube surgery, the end of his urethera was sealed inside his
cock at the base...leaving an empty, unused tube down his cock. Linda started
with a thick, flexible length of solid rubber....way too thick for his
cock...but she lubed it up and during her poor slave husbands screaming for
mercy...she force it into his cock. She could see the thick rubber probe
doubled the size of his urethera...and his cock permanantly plugged.
She proised the next step would definately hurt...she inserted a bullet shaped
sanding bit into an electric dill and routed out the flesh inside the last
half inch if the inside of his cock!
With a couple carefull stitches..she then sewed up his cock. In a few
days...the newly raw flesh inside his cock would heal shut and the rbber probe
inside his cock would keep him forever erect at 10 full inches.
The next morning...a female plastic surgeon friend of Lindas began botox
injections along th entire lengh of slave Mike cock! after almost 40
injections...Mikes cock was as thick as his wrist! The skin was stretched to
the max...the thick veins throbbed along the length of his cock...and the
sensitivity was almost unbearable!!
Almost a week later....Linda climbed on for the first time....Mike was huge
inside her, just the way she wanted. He was still so sensetive, he could
barely stand her pussy riding up and down on him...and when he came.....the
real torture began!
Instead of umming out of his cock...his body convulsed...and his cum was
pumped out of him...behind his balls...denying him most of the plesure a man
gets from his climax!
linda just laughed at his anguish, and kept riding HER new cock! She could
tell he was nearing agony from the friction of her insides around his
shaft...but she didn't care!!
"I can do this all night!"
She groaned as she came again and again...she reached down and played with his
balls between her legs. Mike came again...and the sensetivity had him begging
for her to stop!!
After too many orgasms for her to count...she just sat on him....letting her
pulsating pussy to torture him. Mike had cum 3 times...was still rock
hard...and there was not a drop...inside Lindas pussy!!
She climbed off of him....laid down between his legs....and took his throbbing
erection in her hands. She had to have it in her mouth! She barely got half of
him in her mouth...but the best part...the horibly sensetive head...was
nudging at her throat!!
She tortured him with her tongue for another 20 minutes...Mike was
sobbing....with a permanant erection and no escape...she was right....he'd
feel his cock every second, forever!!
"Dickie" was his new name....and he was not only lindas slave, but several of
her single female friends, who didn't have someon to fuck them...He was
blindfolded to protect their identity...and tied to the bed, while they rode
him for hours!!
Part two...linda wonders...why does he need his balls...to make her happy?
comments always welcome...mojoel531@msn.com
* * * |
Der Maharadscha von Radwaha - Teil 13 - German | GAY, WARNING, MINOR, Diaper, humilitating | Einer der Sklaven macht einen Fehler und muss prompt dafür bezahlen... | Der Lecksklave merkte auf dem Weg zu seinem Zimmer, dass noch immer jede
Bewegung unangenehm war. Bei jedem Schritt spürte er noch immer seine betäubte
Blase, obwohl die Tortur schon Stunden her war. Er war froh, als ihn die
Dienerin in seinen Raum brachte, wo er sich sofort auf das Bett fallen ließ.
Er setzte sich auf die Bettkante und spreizte die Beine etwas, atmete langsam
durch. Hoffentlich würde das Gefühl morgen vorbei sein.
»Ist es in Ordnung, wenn ich dir jetzt dein Abendessen hole?«, fragte die
Dienerin ihn. »Oder soll ich dir erst die Windel wechseln?«
Er schaute an sich runter und sah dann den verfärbten Indikatorstreifen.
»Nein. Erst das Essen«, sagte er schnell.
Die Dienerin nickte lächelnd und verschwand aus dem Zimmer. Der Polynesier
überprüfte noch einmal, dass auch wirklich niemand mehr in seinem Zimmer war,
ehe er sich mit einem Seufzer auf das Bett legte. Endlich. Er drehte sich auf
den Rücken, legte sich die Bettdecke über den Körper und zog die Beine etwas
an. Mit der Hand tastete er vorsichtig unter das Windelpaket. Er atmete leise
durch, ehe er zwei Finger in seinen Anus wandern ließ. Langsam schloss er die
Augen, während er begann sich zu massieren. Er wusste, dass er das eigentlich
nicht durfte, aber ihm war auch bewusst, dass es eher schwer nachzuweisen war,
dass er sich selbst befriedigte.
Sein Leben hier im Palast gefiel ihm. Er diente dem Maharadscha gerne. Doch
trotzdem fühlte er sich etwas ungerecht behandelt. Es war völlig unnötig
gewesen, ihn mit dem Eiswasser zu bestrafen. Und überdies hatte er in den
letzten Tagen das Gefühl, dass er viel erregter war als noch zuvor. Seine
Besuche beim Maharadscha machten ihn einfach viel heißer. Und er bekam einfach
nicht die Gelegenheit dies abzulassen. Sowohl der Analsklave als auch der
Ficksklave kamen regelmäßig zu ihrem Vergnügen. Nur er nicht. Er musste dabei
zusehen, wurde aber nie befriedigt.
Der Lecksklave stöhnte ganz leise, als er spürte, wie er seine Prostate
betasten konnte. Er ließ die Finger etwas kreisen, massierte dann schneller.
Er spürte, wie er sich dem Höhepunkt näherte. Der Polynesier erlaubte sich ein
kleines, kaum hörbares Stöhnen, als er einen Orgasmus hatte. Die Flüssigkeit
tropfte direkt in die Windel. Das war wohl der einzige Vorteil der
Windelstrafe. Solange er diese tragen musste, konnte er unauffällig zu seinem
Höhepunkt gelangen. Der Unterschied war ja ohnehin kaum zu sehen und er
bezweifelte ernsthaft, dass die Dienerin beim Windelnwechseln so genau
hinschauen würde.
Er schlug die Bettdecke wieder beiseite und setzte sich an die Bettkante.
Gerade noch rechtzeitig, denn in just diesem Moment trat die Dienerin mit
einem großzügig gedeckten Tablett ein. Kaum dass sie dieses auf den kleinen
Tisch in seinem Zimmer gestellt hatte, machte er sich gierig darüber her.
Schuldgefühle wegen der Selbstbefrieidgung hatte er keine. Und solange der
Maharadscha davon nichts wusste, würde ihm auch nichts geschehen.
»Darf ich dich nun zu Bett bringen?«, fragte die Dienerin anschließend.
Er seufzte. Nicht einmal eine Pause zwischen Essen und Schlafengehen bekam er.
Er nickte langsam, woraufhin sie ihn zu seinem Bett führte. Dort musste er
sich zunächst einmal hinlegen. Die Dienerin riss die Seitenstreifen der Windel
auf und zog sie ihm vorsichtig unter dem Hintern weg. Mit einem feuchten Tuch
wischte sie dann über seinen Unterleib, wobei sie alle noch übrigen Spuren
vernichtete. Dann erst nahm sie eine neue Windel heran, die sie ihm langsam
unter den Hintern legte. Der Lecksklave seufzte, als sie dann tatsächlich
begann, seinen gesamten Unterleib sorgfältig zu pudern. Er bezweifelte
ernsthaft, dass das notwendig war. Vermutlich nur ein Befehl des Maharadschas,
um ihn ein wenig mehr zu ärgern. Lange würde diese Windelstrafe sowieso nicht
anhalten, da war sich der Polynesier sicher. Spätestens in ein paar Tagen
würde der Maharadscha von dem Anblick genug haben und die Strafe zurückziehen.
Die Diener verschloss die neue Windel sorgfältig mit den Klebestreifen, rückte
sie noch etwas zurecht und half ihm dann in ein dazu passendes Plastikhöschen.
Zur Sicherheit, wie sie lächelnd erklärte. Er musste nun auf dem Bett ein
wenig nach oben rutschen, bis er mit dem Kopf auf dem Kissen lag. Nun kam der
unangenehmere Teil der Windelstrafe. Dazu gehörte nämlich, so hatte der
Maharadscha offensichtlich befohlen, dass er des Nachts fixiert wurde. Ohne
sich zu wehren sah er zu, wie die Dienerin zunächst seine Hände nahm und mit
den schwarzen Klettgurten fesselte. Sie befanden sich nun über seinem Kopf.
Nun seine Beine. Diese wurden kindgerecht zunächst etwas gespreizt, bevor sie
fixiert wurden. Diese Position war mehr als demütigend. Gewickelt und
gewindelt hilflos auf dem Bett gefesselt. Er versuchte gar nicht erst an den
Fesseln zu zerren. Damit hatte er gestern schon die halbe Nacht verbracht. Es
war unmöglich, sich auch nur annähernd in eine gemütlichere Position zu legen.
Nochmals stöhnte er, als er sah, wie die Dienerin mit einer Klistierspritze
aus Metall ankam. Die Spritze hatte vorne eine längliche, gebogene Düse. Sie
stellte sich neben ihn ans Bett und führte die Spitze geschickt unter seine
Windel, bis er spürte, wie sie sachte in seinen Anus eindrang. Als sie tief
genug war, drückte sie etwas Wasser direkt in seinen Darm. Das diente einzig
und alleine dem Zweck, dass er die Windel umso früher benutzen musste. Die
Dienerin wünschte ihm eine gute Nacht und ließ ihn dann alleine. Der
Polynesier wandte sich etwas in seinen Fesseln. Die Wirkung des Wassers setzte
schnell ein und sorgte dafür, dass er bald den Druck spürte. Das Schlimmste
war wohl die Hilflosigkeit dabei. Er konnte nicht auf die Toilette rennen,
konnte nicht die Pobacken zusammenkneifen, nichts. Ein paar Sekunden lang
konnte er es noch zurückhalten, dann konnte er nicht mehr anders und entleerte
seinen Darminhalt ungewollt in die Windel. Im ersten Moment war das
erleichternd, doch im nächsten wurde ihm wieder bewusst, dass er die Windel
vor morgen früh nicht gewechselt bekommen würde. Das hieß, dass er nun die
ganze Nacht mit vollgemachter Windel verbringen musste. Insofern konnte er
wohl über die Gummihose ganz froh sein, da diese zumindest den unangenehmen
Geruch zurückhielt.
Die Dienerin verbeugte sich langsam vor dem Maharadscha. Dieser saß
nachdenklich auf einem Sitzkissen in seinem Zimmer.
»Die Sklaven bekommen die Hormone weiterhin ins Essen gemischt«, erklärte er.
»Ja, Gebieter. Wir ihr befehlt«, sagte die Dienern.
Er wartete einige Sekunden schweigend, bevor er weitersprach.
»Der Lecksklave?«
»Er...er hat sich nochmals selbst befriedigt«, erklärte sie zögerlich. »Ich
bin mir zumindest ziemlich sicher, da-«
»Schon gut. Ich glaube dir.«
Er seufzte tief.
»Ich fürchte, ich werde ihm noch eine Lektion erteilen müssen«, murmelte er.
»Vielleicht etwas schmerzhafteres? Was könnte ich denn machen?«
»Was wäre mit einem Spreizhöschen?«, warf die Dienerin ein.
Sie wurde sofort knallrot, als sie merkte, dass sie gar nicht gefragt gewesen
war. Sie öffnete den Mund, für eine Entschuldigung, doch der Maharadscha kam
ihr zuvor, indem er aufstand.
»Was bitte ist ein Spreizhöschen?«, fragte er.
»Das...das ist...«
Sie atmete kurz durch und gestikulierte dann an ihrem Körper ein Höschen.
»Es ist ein spezielles Höschen. In etwa wie ein Windelhöschen nur wesentlich
dicker. Es hat in der Mitte einen festen Kern und sorgt dafür, dass die Beine
gespreizt werden. Damit ist es sehr schwer überhaupt noch zu gehen. Es gibt
sogar solche, dass man nur noch Krabbeln kann.«
»Interessant...«
Den Maharadscha schien es schon gar nicht mehr zu kümmern, dass sie so vorlaut
etwas gesagt hatte. Er grinste plötzlich.
»Haben wir so etwas hier im Palast?«, fragte er.
»J-ja. Sie wurden damals zusammen mit den Windeln eingekauft und-«
»Gut«, unterbrach er sie. »Dann wird das zunächst seine Strafe sein. Er
bekommt sie morgen früh angelegt und du kümmerst dich darum.«
»Ja, Gebieter.«
»Den Rest der Strafe überlege ich mir noch.«
»M-meister?«, fragte sie vorsichtig. »Wenn Ihr mir diese Anmerkung
erlaubt...der Edelsklave wird zur Zeit des Nachts mit gespreizten Beinen
gefesselt. Wenn er dann auch noch tagsüber gespreizte Beine hat, ist es
möglich, dass er auf langer Sicht Probleme mit dem normalen Gehen haben wird.«
»Ist mir ganz Recht«, grinste der Maharadscha. »Wirklich gut. Wie ist dein
Name?«
»Ich heiße-«
Sie unterbrach sich selbst, als ihr siedendheiß etwas einfiel.
»Ich habe keinen Namen«, fuhr sie dann fort. »Ich bin nur eure Sklavin. Eure
ergebene Dienerin.«
Er schmunzelte etwas.
»Gut. Du darfst gehen.«
Der Polynesier musste am nächsten Morgen geduldig warten, bis die Dienerin
ankam. Er hatte die ganze Nacht mit voller Windel verbracht und wollte sie nun
endlich los werden. Gefühlt dauerte es ewig, bis sie ankam und die Fesseln
löste. Mit einem Lächeln nahm sie seine Kette und führte ihn damit zum
großzügigen Badezimmer. Das Gehen war dabei doch eher unangenehm, da die
Windel deutlich schwerer war und er sich nicht noch mehr einsauen wollte, als
unbedingt notwendig. Er wollte auch gar nicht wissen, was er wohl von hinten
für einen Anblick bot. Er konnte nur hoffen, dass die Windelstrafe wirklich
nicht noch viel länger anhalten würde. Er kam sich einfach nur gedemütigt vor.
Im Bad angekommen durfte er sich wieder auf den Boden legen. Sofort eilten
zwei Dienerinnen heran, die ihn endlich von dem Windelpaket befreiten und ihn
anschließend mit feuchten Tüchtern ein wenig reinigten. Dann endlich durfte er
sich in das Basin begeben. Er atmete erleichtert auf, als seine Haut das warme
Wasser berührte. Die Diener begannen sich um ihn zu kümmern, wuschen ihn
zärtlich. Die namenlose Dienerin, die ihm auch die Windeln gestern gewechselt
hatte, platzierte sich vor ihm im Wasser und putzte sogar seine Zähne für ihn.
Selber durfte er das nicht machen. Als Lecksklave war es wohl für den
Maharadscha sehr wichtig, dass sein Mund von innen und außen möglichst sauber
war. Er hatte sich inzwischen daran gewöhnt. So schlimm war es nicht. Immerhin
musste er nicht wie der Analsklave jeden Morgen einen Einlauf über sich
ergehen lassen.
Nach dem Waschen bekam er wie üblich eine dicke Windel für den Tag umgelegt.
Er wollte gerade aufstehen, als eine der Dienerin ihn lächelnd zurück auf den
Boden drückte. Sie deutete auf die andere Sklavin, die nun mit einem ungewohnt
dicken, weißen Plastikhöschen ankam.
»Was...was ist das?«, fragte er.
Sie grinste bloß und half seinen Beinen durch die Öffnung zu gelangen. Sie zog
es ihm hoch, zerrte ein wenig daran, bis es richtig saß. Er staunte nicht
schlecht, als er merkte, dass er seine Beine nicht zusammenlegen konnte. Sie
wurden durch das neue Kleidungsstück automatisch gespreizt. Ihm schwante
böses. Die Dienerin griff nun nach einer dünnen Kette, die in dem Bund des
Höschens eingearbeitet war und zog daran. Der Lecksklave spürte, wie sich der
Bund enger zusammenzog. Sie zerrte noch mehr daran und sicherte die Kette dann
mit einem Schloss. Nun würde er das Höschen auch nicht mehr selbst loswerden,
stellte er mit einem innerlichen Seufzer fest. Er versuchte aufzustehen, fand
aber keinen halt. Zwei Dienerinnen halfen ihm grinsend auf die Beine. Er
bliebt breitbeinig stehen.
»Wir müssen zum Maharadscha«, erklärte die Dienerin nun und packte seine
Halskette.
Das erwies sich als nicht ganz so einfach. Mit gespreizten Beinen zu gehen war
ungewohnt, sodass sie länger als gewöhnlich bis zum Zimmer des Maharadschas
brauchten. Dort angekommen, warteten bereits alle auf ihn. Die anderen
Edelsklaven schauten ihn ein wenig erstaunt an, der Maharadscha hingegen
grinste bloß. Der Polynesier musste sich in die Mitte des Raumes stellen.
»Du hast dich selbst befriedigt«, stellte der Maharadscha fest.
Der Lecksklave schluckte leise. Leugnen half wohl nichts.
»Ja«, flüsterte er.
»Das wird ab jetzt aufhören. Und zudem...«
Der Edelsklave atmete leise durch, hoffte, dass seine Strafe nicht all zu
schlimm sein würde. Irgendetwas, was nicht wehtun oder entwürdigend sein
würde.
»Zudem werden wir einen kleinen Ausflug in die Stadt machen.«
* * * |
Red Bears toy | GAY, PENECTOMY, Furry Antrhomorphic | A big Dom bear turns a handsome gray Squirrel into his permant plaything | Bear Tales
The huge rust red grizzly sat sullenly at his table, glum that his life had
gotten so boring! As the big pot bellied bear surveyed the club, he could see
only tired old muzzles. Furs he’d had his way with so often, and so well they
would bare the scars for life. What he needed was new conquests, fresh meat on
which to vent his cruel lusts! He was just thinking, that perhaps he should
more on to another club. Perhaps one where straight males hung out, he licked
his cruel lip’s. Yes, it’d been far to long since he’s broken a so called
straight male! Forcing him to serve as the big bruins slut, until he’d become
so sexual confused he’d let any male use him! Yes that would be amusing,
perhaps a big equine with many mares! The big bear was so distracted by this
fantasy, he almost didn’t notice the gray squirrel enter. It wasn’t until he
had been seated, across the way and was talking to the waiter. That the big
grizzly took notice of his slender white and gray rodent body. Even as the
squirrel eyed the clubs other male occupants lustfully. ‘Fresh meat!’ Carver
thought even more hungrily to himself. As he marvel at the small rodent
enormous sheathed cock. It dwarfed the Squirrels small body, and the orbs
which hung beneath were as big as his own. Truly the little rodent was
impressively endowed, a slow cruel smile spread across the bears muzzle. He
knew the type, small town stud. Fresh in the big city, looking for sexual
adventure. He’d want sex, and was in ‘the Den’ instead of ‘the burrow’. So
he’d be looking for a predator, nine times out of ten. He would be looking for
someone to top, to fuck that tight little tail hole! Of course sometimes the
more Dom, would be looking to show off for the locals. Looking for a predator
to Dom and fuck, in front of them. ‘And who is bigger and badder than me!’
Carver thought with a barely suppressed grin. And of course there was no one,
not in this city; nor the small mining villages around it! He would be
whatever the rodent desired, until he got him alone of course! Then… well then
the claws would come out, then he would fuck the little squirrel as he wanted!
He waved away a big gray wolf, who no doubt had similar ideas. No this one
would be his to break in, to rape and abuse as he saw fit! Standing up he
shambled over to the table, standing before the squirrel politely.
It was a slow night in the clubs, Cameron had been cooling his heels for over
two hours. In first this one and then that, without so much as a single
interest. He was just thinking of giving it up and going home. When the bear
came over to his table, rusty red fur that glistened like liquid in the half
light. He wore only a flowing kilt, over his broad loins. The rest of his huge
body naked for everyone to see, and lust after. The rest of the males in the
bar, sprang up and moved to show themselves off to best advantage. But the big
bruin seemed disinterested, strolling pass the badger without a second glance.
Sneering at the big black wolf, hardly noticing the various cats. Until he
came to Cameron, stopping the big red bear looked him over carefully.
“Errr… would you like to sit down?” The little gray asked hopefully. Clearly
he was taken with the bears massive frame. Craver took a sit without comment,
waiting to see which direction the rodent would take. “Wow you are a big one…”
Cameron breathed as he looked the massive red beast over. “I… I’m kinda new to
this…” The squirrel admitted breathlessly. “I’ve never… with another male…
I’ve had lots of females…” The stammering rodent babbled on, finally
confessing his submissive desires. The big dicked stud wanted to give himself
up to another male. A big predatorily male… a real dominant fuck you like a
bitch male! The big bear smiled, he’d give the handsome little stud more
dominant male that he bargained for!
“You will address me a Baron… or not at all!” The big red bear growled in
velvet menace. “I am a malevolent master.” The Bruin warned. “Do you wish to
serve my pleasure?”
“Yes please… Baron!” Cameron pleaded softly.
“Very well… but do not disappoint me!” The huge bruin growled as he stood up
and walked briskly down the hallway. “Follow.” He ushered Cameron into what
was obviously his exclusive playroom. The room was floored in what appeared to
be industrial gray carpet. In the dead center of the room, was a massive round
bed. In one corner of the room hung a substantial black leather sling, also
generously padded. Under the bed and sling, modular rubber mats had been laid.
The corner opposite the sling was tiled rather than carpeted. There were
several halogen spotlights on ceiling tracks, along with a small electric fan
and stereo speaker at each corner of the room’s ceiling. A partially open
closet, one of two in the room, appeared to contain some kind of electronic
equipment, perhaps a stereo system. Large floor-to-ceiling mirrors adorned
three of the room’s walls. And there were a couple of video monitors suspended
from the ceiling, one of them at each end of the sling. The red-furred giant
then pushed him down onto the bed, and took a long deep kiss. As he covered
Cameron’s crotch with a massive paw, and began to roughly fondle all of the
squirrel’s organs. Cameron lay back helplessly, as the big bruin's long tongue
raped his mouth. His own fawning tongue caressing the bear’s powerful one
meekly, as he gave himself up. The bear’s big rough paw teasing his long pink
squirrel cock to half arousal. Glancing down the bear snarled at the sight of
the little rodent mighty cock. Upset and disturbed that so small a fur had a
bigger organ than himself! ‘That can be fixed!’ The bear though smirkingly to
himself! Then sliding down to grasp and roughly squeezes his male orb’s within
their soft sack. "I am going to ravish you in places and ways you have never
experience or even imagined!" The great bear growled softly, as his huge
needle sharp claws teasing the Squirrel’s firm male orb’s.
"I… I am most experienced." Cameron admitted, his frightened eye’s locked on
his fondling claw’s. Knowing they could rip thought his male orb’s like a hot
knife through soft butter.
"Hahaha!" The Baron laughed as his grip tightened around Cameron’s orb’s. "Are
you questioning my word slut?" He inquired playfully, a dangerous tone in his
deep growling voice.
"NO Baron!" The squirrel answered quickly. "I was only informing you of my own
well used nature." He explained in submissive shame.
"Good…” “See that you don’t… and as to your well used nature.” “You shall
find, I can find ways and means to use a slut like no one you have ever
known!" The great bear promised, thinking of one way that would change the
little stud’s life forever! Rolling over on to his broad powerful back, the
bear sneered down at Cameron. "Arouse me!" The baron ordered, his massive paw
tightening around Cameron’s ball’s until the rodent squealed in agony. Quickly
Cameron pressed his lip’s to the opening in the bear’s thickly furred sheath.
Slipping his long slick tongue down into the bruin’s hot sheath, he lapped at
the massive organ conceal within. Soon the Baron’s long pink organ was
climbing up Cameron’s tongue, then into his mouth; and then down his suckling
throat! The Squirrels own mighty organ hung semi hard between his legs.
Without really thinking about it the rodent reached down and caressed it
excitedly. Even as he licked and suckled furiously, trying to please the
Baron. Suddenly a massive clawed paw grabbed his neck and yanked his head back
savagely! Making the long throbbing organ slip out of his eagerly suckling
mouth with a lewd SLURP! "That’s enough Slut!" The baron growled. "I said
arouse me not suck me off!"
"Yes Baron." Cameron sobbed, tears in his big dark Squirrel eye’s; and a look
of shameful embarrassment on his muzzle. Releasing the Squirrel’s neck the
bear shook strands of fur for his big paw.
“Don’t play with yourself again!” The baron growled in a deep baritone voice.
“That is my prerogative.” “I don’t even want to see you humping the bed if I
fuck you!” “Is that clear slut!”
“Yes Baron.” Cameron repeated for some reason, this exciting him even further.
Careful to keep his hands on the bear’s body at all times, playing with his
huge balls and mighty cock. Running his finger’s through the soft fur that
covered the bear’s huge body. It was then that Cameron made the mistake of
touching his own ball’s. Which were kind of mashed up against one leg,
suddenly the bear pushed his head away.
“Stop!” He snarled. “We’ve got a problem to solve before you can properly
service me.” The baron grunted. Cameron just looked up at him, not
understanding. “I’m the master.” The bear said firmly. “You’re my slave, I’m
supposed to be getting all of the pleasure out of you.” “You’re supposed to be
getting pleasure out of giving me that pleasure.” “I think we need to remind
you of that!” Going to the side of the bed, he opened one of the built-in sets
of drawers. Taking out a large set of banders, with the thickest ring’s the
Squirrel have ever seen. He quickly loaded the tool and strained to open the
jaw’s, the thick rubber ring a challenge. Then he viciously grabbed Cameron’s
enormous cock with one mammoth paw. Cruelly squeezing the Squirrels massive
organ up out of his sheath. Fitting the expanded ring over the Squirrel’s big
cock root he shoved it up against his crotch. The released the tool letting
the band close tightly around the base of Cameron’s huge organ.
“Uhuuu!” Cameron moaned in pain/pleasure as the powerful band bit into his
delicate flesh. The feeling of blood surging in vane to get to his male organ,
and the pain in his guts. Make the handsome little rodent if anything ever
more aroused.
“There.” The bear growled. “An object lesson.” With your cock bound and numb,
you should be able to concentrate on my organ.” He then pulled Cameron’s head
back down, onto his thick oddly shaped cock! Which had, impossibly gotten even
harder while he was banding the Squirrels organ. The Squirrel reached down to
feel myself, and received a very hard kick on the paw. “No!” “Bad boi!”
“That’s my property now, and I didn’t give you permission to play with it!”
The bear then pulled a pair of leather wrist cuffs out of a draw in the table,
and glared at the rodent. “Do I have to put these on you?” Cameron was shocked
to find himself nodding silently and submissively. “Very well!” The big rust
red bruin snarled, and cuffed Cameron’s paw’s behind his back. Then pulled him
back onto the big pre-cum dribbling cock. “You may finish what you started.”
Cameron was clumsy at first, not being used to giving head with his hands
behind his back. But he soon managed a comfortable rhythm, and fell into a
sort of sexual trance. His long rodent cock rock hard, and turning a deep
shade of purple. “Does it turn you on to have me deny you gratification while
servicing me?” The bear asked. Cameron made a sort of ‘Mmmhhh’ sound of
agreement without taking the big cock out of his mouth. “That’s a good start.”
The baron grunted. “We’ll see what else we can do with you later.” “For now,
let’s see how good of a suck-slave you can be.” Cameron was so turned on by
this rough comment, that he lost track of where his body stopped the bear’s
began. His soft mobile rodent lip’s moved over the bear’s big cock. Long slick
tongue curling and wandering over it as Cameron lost himself in the act. All
his focus on the huge salty organ throbbing inside of him. When suddenly the
big bear grunted, his huge organ spasming. Cameron was startled when his mouth
flooded, but quickly realized it was the Baron spurting. Cameron happily
swallowed the salty seed, and continued sucking until he thought the bears
mighty cock would go soft; but it didn’t!
“Care for a chaser?” The big bruin asked gruffly. Cameron stopped and looked
up at him. “You know what I’m asking.” He said, rather than asked. Cameron
grunted a positive acknowledgement. “Do you understand that I’m giving you a
choice, which is something I won’t normally do?” The Squirrel grunted yes
again, still unwilling to take the big bear cock out of his eager mouth. “If
you do this, I will consider this act as binding you to me.” “I will control
your body and your actions at all times.” “Is this acceptable?” “To say no,
remove your mouth from my cock and leave.” “To say yes, keep my dick in your
mouth and receive my offering.” The little rodent knelt there quietly for a
moment, then looked up at him from his position kneeling between the bears
squat legs. Silently imploring and giving his permission all at once. “Open
wide!” The Baron grunted. “This is going to be a big one.” If the Squirrel
thought the bears cum was salty, it was nothing compared to his piss! Which
flooded his mouth, feeling incredibly erotic as he swallowed it as fast as he
could. Forming a hot river which Cameron could feel flowing out the end of the
Baron’s huge cock head. Through his mouth, and down his throat into his belly.
Cameron had never tasted anything so heady in his life, or perhaps it was just
the circumstances that left him feeling punch drunk. When the bear was
finished, the Squirrel milked his dick dry. And carefully sucked every bit of
moisture from it, as he pulled his mouth off. The Baron felt his dry dick, and
a toothy smile appeared on his muzzle. “You’re a natural born slave boi!” The
red bear snickered. “I’ve kept boys for years that couldn’t learn that trick,
no matter how many times I tried to teach them.” Cameron shivered with pride
as he listened to the bears praise. “Now that we’ve settled that…” The Baron
smirked. “Time to finish dispensing with this…” His big leathery paw, stroked
over the Squirrels gigantic cock. The bear growled as he moved down between
the rodent’s legs. As he examined the Squirrels painfully throbbing cock,
Cameron let out a groan. “That’ll never do!” The Baron growled. “Let me see
what I can do to fix that.” Slowly and carefully, the bear fed that huge
purple organ into his own mouth. Cameron lay back watching in stunned silence,
as his new master suddenly seemed to become a passive cock sucker! ‘Maybe I’ve
made a mistake!’ The little Squirrel thought as he looking on. The bears
reddish muzzle sliding up and down his big numb length slowly. Even while a
massive paw worked it’s way between his round gray buttock’s.
“UHUUUUUUU!” The little Squirrel grunted as a thick finger found and
penetrated his tiny tail hole! The finger was rough and big, as big as
anything the little rodent had ever had up him! Luckily it was coated with the
Baron’s dripping pre-cum. But it made Cameron realize just how much bigger the
bear’s cock would be! The big red bruin fingered his quivering hole for a long
while. Then picked Cameron’s slender gray body up, and sat him on that mighty
bear cock! The broad head stretching Cameron’s taunt little opening, straining
to get inside of him! “Ohooo gods please…” The Squirrel squealed. “Its to b…
big… it’ll never fi…” But then his own body weight did the trick, there was a
soft ripping sound. And the bear’s massive cock head slipped into his deeps!
“AHAHAHAHA!” Cameron moaned, his head snapping back. And his eye’s glazing
over, as he was fully filled with male organ! Shivers of pleasure running up
and down his spine. As the bear’s big cock beat and ground against his male
pleasure knot! Even though he could hardly feel the Baron’s hot mouth on his
cock. Cameron was instantly on his way towards orgasm, with that thick cock
battering his pleasure knot! The bear of course knew the score, he’d fucked
many furs to orgasm! Of course each one had paid for that pleasure, in one way
or another. And he’d already decided, that he was going to keep the handsome
little rodent. The almost virgin prize, was just to pretty and submissive to
give up! Craver rocked his powerful hip’s, stimulating Cameron’s hard little
pleasure center. Even as his big strong paw’s gripped and squeezed the
rodent’s hefty ball’s. Those were bound to be very needy, and would be ever
more so when he was done! Poor little Cameron didn’t last long, bouncing up
and down on the bears thick cock! His big over full ball’s aching and
straining in those gigantic kneading paw’s! “Ohooo gods I’m cuuummmiinnnggg!”
The sleek little Squirrel screamed, clutching at the bears head. Forgetting in
his lust that he was the slave, and pounding the bear’s muzzle wildly!
Cameron’s sleek, but well muscled body. Bounced and jerked on the Baron’s hard
cock lustfully. As his huge nut’s drew up, and unloaded a massive flood of cum
into the bears mouth. Carver smirked and waited until he felt the rodents
orgasm reach its peak! Then his mighty jaws clamped down on the Squirrel’s
cock. Razor sharp teeth instantly cutting through aroused muscles. Pausing an
instant as they encountered the rodent’s cock bone. Then there was a dull wet
sounding ‘SNAP!’. And the first six inches of Cameron’s mighty erection, was
grounded to pulp and slid down the big predators throat! The rodent’s body
jerk upright, his half closed eye’s flying open in shock and pain! His already
tight little tail hole, clamping down deliciously tight on the bears big cock!
“IAIAIAIIIII!” Cameron squealed in astonishment and horror as he at lasted
realized what the bruin had in mind! “No…” He denied disbelieving, this was
not what he’d wanted! His sleek slender body struggling surprisingly
powerfully, to pull off of the bears thick cock! “What the fuck are you…?”
Cameron screamed, as he watched the bear nursing on the dismembered tip. The
big bear looked up, smiling with bloody jaws.
“Whats wrong?” The big bruin inquired lightly. “Its only a little off the
top!” The Baron taunted, licking his lip’s and burping softly. “You have
plenty more then enough here to afford a little trim!” He smirks massaging the
Squirrel remaining cock with one huge paw. “In fact… it’s still longer than
mine!” The bear growls, holding the little rodent in place by the ball’s! His
needle sharp claws resting against those delicate male orb’s threateningly!
“In matter of fact…” The Baron growls annoyed. “I don’t like it this big!”
Immediately, the big red bear’s mouth slides back down the Squirrels still
rock hard organ.
“Hey… What are you doin…” Cameron grunts to startled to react in time. At once
the Baron’s powerful jaws snap closed! Razor sharp teeth instantly cutting
through aroused muscles. Pausing an instant as they encountered the rodent’s
cock bone. Then there was a second wet sounding ‘SNAP!’ this one louder that
the first! And another dozen or so inches of the Squirrels mighty erection
vanish down the bears throat! The little rodent’s body, reacting even more
violently as this happens. But the big red bear’s grip on his jewels, holds
Cameron firmly in place! “Oh my gods… Oh my gods!” The Squirrel repeats, as he
sees over half his mighty cock gone forever! “You bastard!” Cameron chokes
throwing a punch at the bear’s broad nose. But the big bruin just shrugged of
the weak blow, and suckled on the bloody cock wound. Cameron fell back limply
in the bear’s grasp then. Weather it was from blood loss, shock, or just
sexual submission. Was anybodies guess, but the Baron knew at once the little
sub was ready.
“You’re mine… forever!” He growled very deep and dominantly. “We’ve already
agreed upon that!” He reminded Cameron firmly. “But I can’t have a fuck slave,
who only thinks about his cock; all the time!” The Baron snorted, sounding
offended by the very idea! “All of this already belongs to me!” He reaffirmed
stroking the Squirrels sheath and ball’s gently! “To do anything I want with!”
The bear’s lip’s parted in a wide evil smile! “But I’m not a wicked master… so
I’ll give you a choice.” He smirked. “Offer me the rest of your cock… give it
to me!” The Baron licked his lip’s. “And I’ll let you keep those big bouncy
orbs.” He promised, one huge paw fondling the Squirrels ball’s. “Or refuse me
this gift, and I’ll take it all; and toss you back out on the street!” Cameron
starred at his new master in terror, speechless for a moment. He had only
wanted to try being submissive to a big male one time! Now he had no choice be
to be the bear’s property forever! As the bear’s mighty paw’s gripped his
massive rodent orb’s painfully tight. And the little Squirrel just somehow
knew those paws would crush his jewels. Would throttle and mash the life right
out of them, while he watched!
“Take it!” The gray Squirrel squeaked. The big bear lifted one paw to cup his
ear. “Take it all… eat my cock!” Cameron grunted louder, making the Baron
smile gloatingly.
“You’ve made the right choice!” The big red bear purred. “A slave should Never
have more than his master!” Swallowing the Squirrel’s mostly numbed organ
right down to the root. The Baron’s wide blunt muzzle pushed into his sheath
opening. As the bear had the whole of Cameron’s big rodent cock in his mouth.
Looking up at the sleek handsome little gray rodent the Baron smiled.
‘CRUNCH!’ Powerful jaws snapped closed, sharp teeth cutting the tendons
holding the rodents mighty bone!
“Ohooooo…” Cameron moaned breathlessly, as those sharp serrated teeth tore
through muscle. Cameron thought of all the females he’d bred and had wanted to
breed again! “Ohoo Gods Master Please take my…” He started to plea a second
time, but was choked off as those teeth twisted around his cock root! The bear
pressed his muzzle in harder, as his big shaggy head shook from side to side!
“IAIAIIIIII…” Cameron screamed, as with one last long ripping sound. The big
bear lifted his muzzle away from the Squirrels now empty sheath. Craver
swallowed the mighty organ in an easy gulp, then burping in satisfaction! The
healing balm, he’d rubbed on with his tongue. Healing the Squirrels wound, but
leaving all the tubes open.
“There… now the only cock you’ll worry about pleasing… is my own!” The bear
gloated, as he speared between his little fuck toy’s wide spread leg’s. To
fuck his own massive organ up Cameron’s hot tightly clench anus. Grunting in
pleasure as the hot wet flesh engulfed his massive organ like the pussy it now
was! “Who’s my little cockless pussy boi?” The Baron whispered tauntingly into
the Squirrel‘s ear, as he rutted slowly within his depths!
“I… I AM!” The slender handsome little former stud whimpered, totally broken
to his new position in life! As waves of pleasure swept through him, the
pleasure center in his rump made all the more sensitive. By the total lack of
nerve sensations from his empty sheath. The big red bear grunted and growled
in full arousal. As he forcefully fucked the Squirrels taunt little tail hole.
The act of devouring his fuck slaves big cock, and the Squirrels complete
subservience. Had gotten him so hot he couldn’t hold out for long, and was
soon growling in pleasure. As he dumped his load into Cameron’s hot little
hole, the Squirrel to was grunting. As he suddenly felt his loins spasm, hot
gooey cream filling his now empty sheath.
“What’s this?” The Baron snickered, as he noticed the thick fluid dripping
from Cameron’s slit. One thick finger thrust in, and came back out covered in
spunk. “My… My… My you are a creamy little slut… HAHAHAHAAHA!” The bear
gloated as he craned his neck down and lapped the cum out. “I’m really going
to enjoy pounding this sweet little pussy!” He promised.
* * * |
Byzantium 3: The Blond Slave | GAY, TESTICLES | Historical. A blond slave is finally gelded. | Byzantium 3: The Blond Slave
By the author of 'Cut Boy' and 'SS Research Unit'
In 1080 AD Stephen Comnenus, a relative of the Emperor of Byzantium,
commissioned a monk, George Bolkan, to compile an exhaustive work on
castration and the making of eunuchs as practiced in the Eastern
Roman Empire. Bolkan spoke with many people, slave-owners, castrators
and eunuchs, giving these stories verbatim in his final text. The
following is from part of the surviving manuscript.
I castrate my master's slaves for him when they need to be done.
There are the younger boys, usually about twelve years old, just
before they begin to grow hair in their groins. They are destined to
serve the master's wives. Then there are the older ones, who are
castrated as a punishment for some crime. It is a severe punishment
and my master seldom orders it for older slaves except for repeated
offenses. Then there are the others, usually around seventeen or
eighteen years of age, who I castrate before they can make trouble.
These slaves are easy to judge. They are usually sort of slave who
will consider themselves first, rather than the will of their master.
They are the sort of slaves who will think before they obey. They are
also usually confident and cocky and there is a history of small
disobediences to rules and orders. Often they are good-looking and
know the value of their appearances in getting small favours and
lenient treatment. After they have been gelded, their whole manner
changes and my master, in the past, has frequently elevated them to
high positions in the household.
The last slave I castrated was one such slave. He was around
seventeen years of age and blond. He wore his golden hair, with its
darker understreaks, long. He was of average height and his skin was
unblemished. Like many blonds he was smooth and relatively hairless.
It was odd gelding him at that age because earlier, when he was
twelve, I had in fact chosen him, because of his good-looks, to be
clipped of his balls to serve my master's wives in the women's
quarters. I had taken him aside one day and made him strip down, then
to lie upon a pallet with his lean boyish legs apart while I examined
his small cock and his balls. Under the touch of my fingers, he
quickly developed an erection, moreover one that was large for his
age and still hairless state. I can still see him watching me with
wide-eyed curiosity and embarrassment as I manipulated him. When I
rolled him over, he had small white buttocks and his hole between
them was so tight to my moistened finger I could barely get it into
him.
I had him sent, with the other boy I had chosen, to the dormitory
where those boys who are destined to be castrated are taught the arts
of attendance and serving. I can recall distinctly his face when he
was told of his fate and how he fell upon his knees before me and
begged me to spare him the knife. Strangely enough, his prayers were
answered eventually because, only days before he were due to be cut,
my master was given a matched pair of young Greek eunuchs by his
brother and it was decided that we would not need to geld any of our
own slaves that year. So he was returned to general duties. And a
year later, when it came time to chose two boys again, he was older,
with hair in his groin and he could not be chosen to serve in the
women's quarters
Perhaps it was this early escape from the gelding-knife that
convinced this slave of his charmed life. He developed an attitude
and a certain carriage of his body that did not bode well for his
future. I soon grew tired of his air of rebellion. When he was given
orders he always looked like he obeyed them only because he wished to
obey them, not because he had been ordered to do so. He was also
aware of his good looks and his walk was free and confident. I
remember watching him from behind one day as he strolled down a
passage and I could tell from his easy movements that he was too full
of himself.
Then the master ordered me to provide two boys so that a friend of
his who was staying for the summer could pick one for his bed. I
choose this blond slave, who was around 16 at that time to be one of
them. For such a slave, being buggered for a month or two and
submitting to this with all the other slaves knowing of his role, is
often enough to break their spirits. How he hated me when I told him
of my intentions. Later when he and the other boy were undressed
preparatory to my master's friend choosing one of them, I enjoyed him
having to bend over a table and have another slave lubricate his rear
should my master's friend choose him for his bed that night. I recall
the look on his face as he was ordered to spread his legs wider and
present his rear properly. However this too was not to be. He and
the other boy stood naked before my master's friend and turned to
show their rears to him, but it was the other darker haired boy who
was chosen.
When he had grown a bit older, I spoke to the master about him and
asked for permission to geld him. My master suggested we wait a
little. It was then I began to notice the fact that as the blond
slave served my master he would frequently get erections in the
presence of any women servants. I ordered another slave to keep an
eye on him and if he found any indications of sexual trespass to
inform me immediately. Bit try as he might, while there were actions
that could be read as suspicious, he could give me no evidence that
would cause the master to order me to clip the youth of his manhood.
Finally, one day I was in the baths washing, and I saw the blond
slave in the company of others. He was standing side-on to me and
just the position of his body, the jut of his hips forcing forward
his groin, the line of his unerect cock, and his laughter as he
explained something to an admiring group of younger slaves decided
me. I went to the master and said that the slave's attitudes were
influencing others and I said how I suspected him of sexual trespass
with women servants but had not yet managed to prove it. I also
suggested that, after his gelding had calmed the slave, he would be a
worthy addition to my master's immediate retinue. My master
contemplated my words for a while and then finally nodded agreement.
My actions were immediate. I went to the small courtyard where slaves
were whipped. When I gelded younger boys I used a table in a
storeroom and spread-eagled them across it. For the older slaves, I
used the whipping frame. It was a simple construction. Two posts
supported a bar at around thigh level. A foot and a half behind it
was a small table of widely spaced wooden slats. The slaves ankles
were tied to the posts. The bar at thigh level kept his legs straight
and then he was bent over, the upper part of his body on the slatted
table and his out-stretched arms tied at the upper corners. Such a
position perfectly presented the slave to either the whip or the
knife. It was a simple matter to check all the thongs that would bind
him to the frame. Then I readyied the knife that I used, sharpening
it carefully on a small whetstone.
I summoned the blond slave to his dormitory and waited there with two
of the stronger stable-hands. When the youth arrived I ordered him to
strip down and lie on his pallet. Whether he remembered this position
from when he was younger, I do not know but in the midst of the
unconcealed dislike in his gray-green eyes, as he stripped off his
clothes, I thought I could detect some fearful suspicion.
He was well-grown now, although his thighs were still free of hair. I
had him part his legs for me and examined his balls, fingering them
slowly. He had good heavy nuts and in other circumstances, if he had
been of a more amenable disposition, I may even have chosen him to
breed, young as he was. Then I examined his cock. It had probably
grown to near its full-size now. I held the soft, warm cylinder in
my hand and pulled back his foreskin to expose its head. The set of
his mouth and the narrowing of his eyes told me that he hated me for
this intimate inspection. But there was more to come. I ordered him
to roll over on his belly and to spread his legs.
His buttocks were of a fine shape and creamy-white coloured. I spread
them crudely with one hand while spitting on the other. His hole
tightened in its faint ring of hair. Taking no care of his hurt, I
crudely pushed my finger inside of him, twisting it and turning it to
achieve my aim. Despite his effort to silence himself I heard his
slight winces and grunts at my forced movement. He was hot inside and
the warm tightness of his muscles there closed all around my index
finger.
When I finished I ordered him to stand up. He did so slowly with an
offensive attitude. Then I nodded at the stable-hands who grasped him
by his arms and walked him naked out from his dormitory down the
stairs and finally into the narrow courtyard that was our
destination. When he saw where we were going he turned to me and
demanded to know what thing he had done for which he was going to be
whipped. I ignored him and the two stable-hands bent him over the
frame. First I tied his arms by the wrists to the upper corner. This
effectively immobilised him. Then I had the stable-hands grasp each
of his ankles and draw them out to the two posts. I looped the thongs
around his ankles and tied him there. One of the stable-hands gagged
him against his muffled protest.
His thighs were now tautly stretched and between his legs his balls
hung in their rounded sac. His buttocks had been parted by his
position to expose his rear hole. In spite of the fact he was firmly
tied I could see him try each of his bonds with all his strength.
Then I told him that he was not to be whipped but that his master
and I had decided he was to be gelded because of his attitude. As
soon as the words meant something to him, he reacted but his bonds
restrained him. He tried to shout out to me but the gag stopped his
words. He could only twist his head and his shoulder length blond-
hair brushed back and forth across his back. As he tried to draw his
legs together, the leather thongs cut into his ankles.
I always take things slowly under these circumstances. I geld the
younger boys quickly and neatly but in the case of older youths and
those being punished, I always linger over my actions so as force
them to experience all that was being done to them. So I took my time
preparing the leather-thong that I used as a noose to tie around his
balls to stop them moving as I cut. Then I casually moved to stand
directly behind him. He twisted his head in an attempt to see me and
I could see the gag tightly pulling at the corners of his mouth.
I reached up between his legs and grasped his balls. His thighs
struggled to close against my grip but the slave's bonds held firm.
With his movements I could feel the bouncing touch of his cock on the
back of my hand. He was beginning to grow erect. It was a simple move
to take the noosed thong down over my hand and to close it around his
balls, but I prolonged this action. I also drew it as tight as I
could and I could see his shudders with the pain of that
constriction. His balls were now bunched at the end of his sac.
Still holding them in one hand and pulling down in them slightly to
loosen his skin, I reached up with my other hands and felt his
stiffening cock. I pulled back on his foreskin and unhooded his head,
moving my fingers around to stroke and stimulate it as it thickened
in my hand.
I wandered back to my bench and watched him there for a moment, his
legs widely spread, the thong from his noosed balls hanging between
them and his stiff cock lying up again his belly now, its head
swollen and reddening. I let him wait there while I tested the blade
of the knife. Carrying a small bowl for his balls, and my knife, I
wandered back to stand behind him. He was aware of my presence and he
hitched his body as if to escape. All his muscles were straining and
taut. I could see the faint sheen of sweat on the skin of his back.
The two stable-hands had positioned themselves to see the
consequences of the operation. The younger one, a dark haired Slovak,
had a perceptable erection which he tried to conceal.
Speaking for myself, I too had a full erection and I could feel it
rubbing against the cotton of my trousers. This was a usual event.
Each time I gelded a man or a boy, I would be hard and later, after
they had been tended, I would inevitably go and find a younger
servant girl or sometimes an attractive boy, ordering them to my
rooms and I would come two or three times within them over a period
of an hour.
I put the bowl down by my feet and positioned myself carefully. Again
the blond slave tried to see what I was doing there and turned his
head. His face was strained and his forehead was damp with sweat. I
had my small curved pruning knife in one hand and, when he saw it,
his legs tried to kick against his restraints but the whole force of
his action was translated into a shaking of the wooden frame that
supported him. I reached between his legs with my free hand and held
his balls gently with a soft caressing touch. Then I felt the length
of his cock. It was fully-erect and he could have got no harder. It
was a good straight length and again I contemplated how, if things
had been different, he might have made an ideal breeding slave. I
rubbed him there tenderly, just below his cock-head, and felt him
jerk from that touch.
Then I pulled his balls out hard behind him and held them there. With
my grip, his cock was pulled away from his stomach and I could see
it, pointing down towards the ground. The crease between the slave's
buttocks was sweaty and his hole was squeezed tight. Later, after he
had been healed, the master would assign him to some mature slave
whose preferences lay that way and the youth would learn the sexual
role to which he would be limited for the remainder of his life.
The slave was gripping the table top with his hands. I could see his
knuckles whitening as he held that splintery wood. He was making a
keening sound that even his gag did not truly muffle. His head was
now facing forward and bent to the table top. Every muscle of his
back showed his tense anticipation. His buttocks were clenched but
could not close the space between then. Nor could his thighs come
together to cover himself.
Still I lingered, gazing at those two nuts, still in their sac in my
hand. There were such small things in the scheme of the world, but
such important things for a man. I brought my knife down near them,
pulling them out from the slaves body as far as I could. I could hear
one of the stable-hand's breath being drawn in. The courtyard was
still, waiting for my action.
It was very simple. I put the point of the knife through his skin
just above one ball and drew it down just as one would draw a fruit
knife down a peach. The slave convulsed with the pain and the whole
wooden frame jerked with that struggle. It was an easy matter to pop
the ball from its sac through the slit I had made. With my head, I
gestured at one of the stable-hands who bent and picked up the bowl
and held it beneath the slaves balls. As I cut the cord I was careful
to roll the knife. For some reason this pull on that narrow tube,
reaching far up inside of them, always makes gelded slaves spurt
seed. As the gray-pink ball dropped into the bowl, I saw the youth
spurt his seed out from his downward pointing cock and the ground was
sprayed with droplets of white.
Then it was the other ball. This time, there was very little seed,
just a clearer fluid which soaked into the dust. I let the youth's
empty sac drop and his still erect penis slapped back against his
belly. Still, even though I was no longer holding him, the slaves
struggled on the frame, weaker now, because he knew all that he
struggled to save was gone. His empty ball-sac hung between his
legs., robbed of its value.
All that remained now was to free him from his bonds and the two
stable-hands would half-support, half-carry him back to his dormitory
where he would remain until he was healed. Then, after he had been
washed down, I too would leave him and seek my own sexual release,
deep between the wet thighs of a young girl I had seen the day
before, bending over a wash-bowl in the women's quarters. |
Sadistic Aunt Sabrina - Chapters Six, Seven & Eight | STRAIGHT, WARNING, PENECTOMY, TESTICLES, NULLIFICATION, MINOR, piss play | Auntie perfects her cock and ball tortures. The Girl Scouts arrive and start their 'hands-on' training. Auntie informs nephew of his final fate. As always, I love hearing your comments and suggestions. I really enjoy chatting with all of you interested in this fantasy. | Chapter Six
The next week flew by quickly. Auntie was getting more and more excited with
each passing day. She was talking to all of her little Girl Scout’s guardians
and assuring them that there was no cost to them and it was definitely a
learning camp. The girls would learn some very valuable lessons. Not
surprisingly, every one of them gave her permission to keep their little
charges for 2 weeks. In the meanwhile, Auntie was still meeting with her
scouts every afternoon after school, continuing her training syllabus. She was
now showing the girls all the good pain spots on a man’s body, especially
those tender places in his testicles but she had branched out to nipple pain,
cock pain and asshole torture. She said they were very good students and
couldn’t wait to put what they’d learned into practice.
In the meanwhile, Aunt Sabrina was getting meaner and more sadistic every day.
I was as hairless as a dancer in a strip club and she inspected me every
evening when I got to the house. If she found one hair, and she always found
at least one, the punishment would be severe. The gyno chair had turned into
her favorite place to punish me. Once strapped in, I was as helpless as a
newborn calf. She would manipulate all the controls to put me in whatever
position suited what she was going to do and then spread me out and secure the
straps until I couldn’t move an inch in any direction. It was the most
helpless feeling in the world. She didn’t even bother to gag me because there
was nobody to hear my screams. Even with all of this, I couldn’t stop myself
from hurrying home and subjugating myself to this sadistic woman, like a moth
to a flame.
She had branched out considerably in her punishments. No longer was it just
beatings, especially of my balls. Now, she was using all of the implements and
devices she had ordered and sent to the house.
The nipples clamps were painful but, she had been twisting and pulling them
for long enough that I could handle it without a problem. They were sore all
the time now and that’s how she wanted them. When I’d get to work in the
morning, I’d put a round band-aid over them so my shirt wouldn’t aggravate
them. Of course, I would take them off before I got home.
Another new toy that she had bought were stainless steel sounds for inserting
in my urethra. They were about 12 inches long and came in about 10 sizes, from
very thin to as big around as my middle finger. Every day she would fuck my
cock with a bigger one than the day before. My peehole was now big enough for
her to finger fuck my cock with her little finger. She just knew that the
little girls would love jamming their fingers and thumbs into my pisshole. It
would sting so bad when I peed afterwards that I had to hold on to the towel
bar to keep from falling down.
The cock and ball presses were a special kind of pain and she liked using them
if she was torturing my asshole. Kind of like being in two places at the same
time, she said. Sometimes, she would clamp them down so tight that I thought
my cock and balls were going to split. She was enjoying dilating my asshole,
first with dildos, then butt plugs in ever larger sizes and finally with her
fist. In one week she had progressed to the point where she could insert her
arm, nearly to her elbow, in my stretched-out asshole. It felt like she was
squeezing my stomach when she had her hand way up in my colon. It was very
painful and I couldn’t move even a tiny bit to get away from the pain. It made
her smile when I would moan from the pain.
Her new favorite toys were needles. She had bought thousands and thousands of
hypodermic needles in all sorts of sizes. Short ones, long ones, super long
ones, and in all sorts of gauges, from very thin to big fat spinal tap
needles. She had been reading all she could find about causing pain to
testicles without destroying them and the number one thing was the inserting
of needles directly into them, so naturally she became the expert in using
them and I was her test subject.
She quickly discovered that both me and my testicles would have to be very
firmly secured while the needles were being slid into my eggs. I couldn’t help
myself from jerking and jumping and that would cause my balls to bounce. She
had tried playing with the Burdizzo but didn’t like it much. However, the
Elastrator was perfect. She would snap one of the bands over my balls which
would cause them to swell painfully and, at the same time would immobilize
them for her needle work. The pain was very intense initially and then, as the
needles was slowly pushed into the testicle, a deep, throbbing pain took over.
Once the needle was all the way in, it produced an ache, somewhat like having
your balls squeezed. The more needles, the harder it felt like they were being
squeezed. At 25 needles, it felt like they were in a vice that was slowly
being turned. She loved it and I was horrified of it. That even made her
hotter. The juices from her pussy would be running down her thighs when she
was finished. She never left the elastrator band on for more than 2 hours. She
wasn’t ready to destroy them just yet.
Chapter Seven
Finally, the day came. Auntie had bought a late-model, used 7 passenger van a
few weeks ago and was going to pick up the girls in it and bring them back.
She had gotten all of them sleeping bags, even though she hoped they’d be
sleeping with her. She was such a sicko.
She said she would be back at 7pm and I was to have snacks and drinks set out
for the girls. She had even bought some beer and light wine for them in hopes
that they’d get a little tipsy. I was to have my hood on that I could barely
make out shapes through and be dressed in nothing but a pair of socks and
tennis shoes when they arrived and standing by the door to let them in and
help with their bags and things. Right before she left, she gave me a big hug,
accompanied by a deep French kiss and, when I least expected it, she drove her
nylon-clad knee mercilessly into my balls, causing me to double over in pain.
She leaned down and whispered in my ear, “that’s probably the least painful
thing that’s going to happen to you this evening, nephew.” With that, she was
out the door, her 4 inch stilettos making that sweet sound on the sidewalk. My
cock was so hard it was almost vibrating.
At 5 minutes to 7pm, the van pulled in the driveway. I had everything ready
and had been watching out the window for the past 10 minutes. I was nervous
and anxious at the same time. I didn’t know quite what to think but I did know
that Auntie would have it all under control.
I peeked through a crack in the curtains as the girls piled out of the van. My
God, they were all gorgeous little things. The 16 year old was pretty obvious
due to her height and the size of her breasts. They were very large and
bulging at the halter top she was wearing. The other 4 all looked about the
same, just starting to grow breasts with prominent, puffy nipples poking
through their t-shirts and all gangly with long legs and perky butts. It was
enough to make any grown man lose his composure. I was glad I’d be wearing the
hood because I would be drooling if I didn’t have it on.
I took my place at the door and, as soon as I heard footsteps on the porch, I
opened it and stood to the side. My erection being the most prominent thing
about me. It was standing straight out and as hard as it had ever been. The
girls had obviously noticed it, and me, and were giggling and whispering
amongst themselves as Aunt Sabrina followed them inside.
“Okay girls,” she snapped, “there’s snacks, soft drinks, beer and wine on the
table. The man you see here with the hood on and a stupid erection is my
nephew. You can call him that. He doesn’t really have a name as far as you’re
concerned. He is going to be our test subject for the next two weeks and, when
that’s done, I bet he doesn’t have a big hardon anymore.”
The girls all giggled some more at that and dove into the snacks, beer and
wine. The soft drinks went untouched, just like Auntie knew they would.
After about 45 minutes, Auntie stood up and got their attention. “Girls, I am
going to take nephew down to our playroom in the basement now. I will be back
to get all of you in about 15-20 minutes. In the meanwhile you can all change
into the outfits I bought for you and handed out today. Make sure the high
heels fit. I bought them all ˝ size larger than you said you wore so you might
have to put a little tissue paper in the toes to make them fit but that’s much
better than having them too tight. Also, hold your pee girls. Don’t go to the
bathroom until we all go downstairs. I’ve got a really fun surprise for you”
My mind was going nuts imagining all these little nymphets wearing 4 inch
pumps and thigh high nylons, straddling my face and emptying their teenage
bladders in my open mouth.
Chapter Eight
As Auntie led me down the stairs, she said, “nephew, I’m going to put you in
the golden shower box first and have all the girls, plus me, of course, empty
their bladders in your mouth. Make sure you thank each and every one of us and
don’t forget to lick every pussy just like you’re our toilet paper. I’ll go
first and I will squeeze and beat your balls so the girls have some idea of
what to do. I want them to understand that you can’t do anything to them
except submit and I think this will be the best way. I’m also going to make a
couple of small slits in your hood so you can have a better view of all those
lovely, teenage pussies you’ll be servicing. They’ll never notice it and after
a couple of days, the hood will come off. They will be much more confident by
then and it won’t bother them at all.”
I was pretty nervous as Auntie locked me into the box. She was right about the
slits in the hood. I could see surprisingly well and was excited about viewing
all those darling young pussies as their pee splashed in my mouth.
Once I was firmly locked in place, barely able to move, Auntie leaned over the
toilet seat, put her face close to mine and said, “My dear nephew, I am going
to give you a shot in your hard little penis in a few minutes. It’s a little
cocktail I had mixed up. It’s a combination of a sedative and liquid Viagra
and I will be giving it to you every day. It will keep your dick hard all the
time and will also make you very compliant. You are going to be kept in the
dungeon for the entire two weeks and at the end of that time, we are going to
make your wish come true. The girls and I are going to destroy and remove your
testicles and penis, and we’re going to make it as painful as we possibly can.
The girls don’t know this yet but, trust me, at the end of the two weeks they
will be as eager as me to do it and you will be begging us to cut them off”
With that she grabbed my turgid cock and pushed the needle in, injecting me
with her drug cocktail.
I was panic stricken. I didn’t think I really wanted to be castrated. It was
just a fantasy. I was starting to hyperventilate but, in just a few minutes,
the drugs kicked in and I was suddenly very relaxed. I knew I should be
yelling and screaming but I just didn’t seem all that concerned right now. I
was, once again, looking forward to those pretty young pussies lowering on to
the toilet seat. I heard the click of Auntie’s 4 inch heels as she ascended
the stairs to gather up her young, soon to be sadists, charges.
In just a few minutes I heard the distinct clicking of 6 pairs of stiletto
heels descending the stairs into the dungeon. Lots of whispering and giggling
as they reached the bottom. I knew they would be looking around and probably
wondering what in hell was all this stuff. The toilet box was around the
corner, out of their sight for the moment.
“Okay girls,” Auntie’s voice carried above the chatter, “follow me around the
corner. You’ll notice the long, narrow box with a toilet seat at the end and a
cock and balls sticking up from the middle. Nephew is inside that box, his
head directly under the toilet seat and his nasty, worthless cock and balls
are available for whatever we want to do to them. This will be part of the
training and I wanted to hold this special treat as a surprise for all of you.
You will all be able to use nephew’s mouth as a toilet and his tongue for
toilet paper. He will drink every drop of your pee and he’ll do it every time
you feel the urge to go. You will also be able to use the implements next to
the toilet to hurt his cock and balls. Use any of them you desire and do
whatever you want to do with them. You can even make him cum if you’d like to.
It won’t matter. I’ve shot him up with some drugs that make him stay hard
virtually all the time. They also make him very weak so we will have no
problem handling him. Girls, you are going to love going to the bathroom in
his mouth. It’s very humiliating for him and makes you feel very special. What
do you all think?”
There was a chorus of “wow’s, cool, neat, damn, I love it, I can’t wait,”
etc., etc. from the girls. They all took turns looking in the toilet and
seeing that it really was me in there. They were so darn cute. I knew they
would be hurting me shortly but, right now, I couldn’t wait for them to pee on
me.
Auntie said, “I’ll be the first to go so you’ll get an idea of what to do. It
feels real good when he licks the droplets of pee off of your pussy lips and
you can stay there for a while if you want to.” With that, she straddled the
toilet seat, her divine pussy peeking through the crotchless pantyhose she was
wearing. She stayed a few inches off the seat so the girls could see exactly
what she was doing. She let loose of her bladder and I swallowed as fast as I
could. As usual, I didn’t miss a drop of her sweet nectar. The girls were
crowding around, craning for a view. When she was finished, she lowered her
pussy enough for me to lift my head and lick the droplets from her swollen
lips. She grabbed one of the implements from the rack next to the golden
shower box. It was the blue ball beaters, I could tell from the first blow.
They were hard rubber blue balls, attached to a wooden handle by a 6 inch
piece of spring steel. They were very accurate and very painful. As I licked
her pussy and asshole, she beat my cock and balls with them. They were a
stationary target and she didn’t miss with any of her blows.
When she finally finished and stood up, the girls were all yelling that they
were next. It took a minute for Auntie to get them in a line. The first girl
was one of the 13 year old’s. She peered into the toilet seat before
straddling it and presenting me with her almost hairless little pussy. It was
so pretty that my cock started to twitch. She copied Auntie by keeping her
pussy a few inches off the seat. Also, she had quickly figured out that by
doing that, she could watch her pee splash in my mouth. She dribbled a little
bit to start, but it quickly turned into a torrent of sweet, teenage pee. I
gulped and swallowed as fast as I could so I wouldn’t miss a drop. It was
delicious. She sat down on the seat so I could lick her clean. I was in heaven
tasting this little teenage pussy. Damn, it was so good. She was giggling as I
licked furiously at her delicious pussy.
I felt a soft hand wrap around my engorged cock and start slowly milking it up
and down. At the same time, a small fist smashed into my swollen balls.
Another blow, harder this time and then it started to rain blows on my tender
eggs while the tiny hand kept stroking my dick, up and down, faster and
faster, bringing me closer and closer to cumming. Another teenage pussy
appeared above my face, the golden nectar already dripping out, quickly
turning into a faucet of sweet pee. I gulped and swallowed as fast as I could.
The pain and pleasure in my cock and balls escalating, aided by the sweet
pussy filling my mouth with hot, teenage juice.
I couldn’t help myself. The cum boiled up from my balls, through my prostate
and shot out of my cock as the girls, with prompting from Auntie, beat
furiously at my balls with their hard little fists. The combination of
pain/pleasure overloaded my senses and, as I twisted my head from side to
side, the sweet pee splashed all over my face, wasting the precious juice.
The next girl took her place on the toilet seat, another teenage pussy ready
to empty its’ contents into my open mouth, her face appearing above her small
breasts as she watched me inhale her tasty offering. She smiled and blew me a
kiss as her hand descended, club like, on my defenseless testicles. The
beatings continued as she lowered her dripping pussy down to my waiting tongue
and mouth. I licked and sucked the precious droplets as she ground her sweet
vagina hard upon my face. I could hear and feel her orgasms as she came and
came, never once missing a beat with her tiny fists.
Another sweet pussy darkened the hole above my face and slowly lowered until
it was scant inches above my waiting mouth. A soft hand grabbed my rigid
penis, another wrapped itself around my swollen balls, squeezing them until I
moaned in pain, while a small finger started pushing into my peehole. It hurt
terribly and I moaned in pain but she wouldn’t stop and I could feel her
finger slowly sliding down the inside of my tender cock, the tender skin
tearing apart to make room for her invading digit. I knew then that this was
going to be a very painful two weeks for me. No mercy.
They were all beating my balls and cock now, using all the rods, mallets and
ball beaters Auntie had laid out for them. They were laughing and giggling at
my moans as they smashed my helpless eggs with gusto. The finger in my peehole
was replaced by a larger finger, more pain as she fucked my slit. I could feel
the blood leaking out. Damn, it really hurt.
“Okay girls,” Auntie shouted over the din, “Let’s slow down for a bit and get
him out of the toilet and strap him down in the gyno chair where we can really
get at him. Try and slow down a little bit. We do want to destroy his cock and
balls but we also want the fun to last until the end of your vacation, don’t
we?”
Thankfully, the girls stopped their activities as Auntie started undoing the
locks and getting me out of the toilet box. I was so weak that I could barely
stand. They led me, staggering, over to the chair. I looked down at my cock
and balls. They were all swollen and bruised. Blood was leaking out of my
enlarged peehole. Damn, I could see right down into it. My cock was still hard
as a steel rod and I was still horny. One of the girls grabbed my swollen cock
and jerked hard on it as they dragged me on to the chair. Auntie directed them
into securing me on the gyno chair. When they were done, I was propped up in a
semi-reclining position, legs spread to the breaking point, ass hanging,
exposed over the end of the chair and arms strapped tightly to my sides. I
could not move an inch in any direction. Auntie slipped a rope over my swollen
cock and balls and proceeded to tie them up as tightly as she could. She
directed one of the girls to pull a rolling table between my legs. I could see
it was full of implements for the girls and, of course, my Auntie to use on my
defenseless body.
Auntie gathered all the young ladies around. “Okay girls, here is your
playtoy. You will all be able to do anything you want to him, within some
reason. We don’t want to kill him and we don’t want to destroy his cock and
balls yet. What we want to do is torture him until he begs us to remove them
and, I promise you, he will beg us to cut off his worthless cock and balls. By
that time, I hope that they will be pretty useless anyway. I also encourage
you to enjoy torturing his nipples and his asshole. There are shoulder-length
latex gloves to use and I’ve been shoving my fist and arm in his ass for weeks
so it should be well dilated. I’m going to give $100 to the first girl to get
her arm in him all the way to her shoulder and $50 to the first girl to get
both arms in him past her elbow. You will notice the cart full of all the fun
toys we will be using. If you have any questions about what they are or how to
use them, please don’t hesitate to ask. On the bottom shelf are thousand of
hypodermic needles in all sorts of sizes for us to use on his balls, cock and
nipples. This is excruciatingly painful to him, especially when they are
inserted in his swollen testicles. I will also show you how to make it even
more painful by heating and bending them before you push them in. Is everybody
ready to start?” All the girls nodded their heads and shouts of “hell, yeah”
were voiced by all the girls. Auntie looked at me and smiled her evil grin.
“Well, let the games begin,” she yelled.
The girls didn’t know where to start but Auntie did. She had them draw straws
to see who got to try putting their arm in his ass first and who got to work
on a nipple and who got to shove the sounds in his dick and, the big prize,
who got to start with the needles.
One of the 13 year olds got to try her arm in his asshole first. She put on
one of the long latex gloves and lubed it up real good. Her skinny arm slid in
effortlessly to a little below the elbow. She shoved and shoved and popped her
elbow into him, remarking about how tight and hot it was in there. Auntie
assured her that was perfectly normal. She was determined to get that $100 and
was pushing with her legs and pulling with her other arm. She got it halfway
up her bicep but couldn’t get it any further. She decided to fuck him with her
arm and it was very erotic watching it go in and out, from her fist to the
middle of her bicep, sliding in and out of his ass.
Two of the girls were working on his nipples. They asked Auntie if they could
stick needles in them and she, of course, said they could do that if they
wanted to, as long as it was painful. Another was lubing up the sounds and had
already slid one in his peehole and pulled it out to try a bigger one. After
the fingers in there, the sounds were almost pleasant.
That left one girl and Auntie to start on the needles. They both sat down on a
pair of small, rolling medical exam stools and pulled the cart between them.
They were positioned between nephew’s painfully spread legs.
Auntie said, “let’s start with the small needles until you get the technique
down and then we’ll move on to the longer and fatter ones and then I’ll show
you how to really cause him pain. We’re going to do some things that even I
haven’t tried yet.”
The little girl smiled at her and said, “Oh Aunt Sabrina, I just have to tell
you how much we all appreciate this chance to get even with all the men that
have hurt us in the past. We loved your classes and we couldn’t believe we
were actually going to be able to torture a man, do anything we wanted to him
and wouldn’t get in trouble for it. This is way past exciting. This is so
cool.”
All the girls were having a ball. This was the most fun they had ever had.
They were quick learners and, very soon, were experts on all of the methods of
torment that Auntie had showed them. They all agreed that fucking his cock
with the sounds and their fingers was a huge turn-on but sticking needles in
his swollen eggs was the absolute best. They all loved it and, after they had
all had their turn in sticking them in and taking them out, Auntie said they
were now going to try some things that would start destroying the nasty
insides of his testicles.
First, she uncorked a 2 inch needle. Next, she held the tip of it over the
flame of a candle she had lit earlier until the tip of it, maybe a little over
Ľ inch, was glowing red. Then, she quickly inserted it into his swollen
testicle until it was approximately in the middle. He bucked like a wild
stallion but there was no where to go. She did it again but, this time, she
put her ear next to his egg. “Damn Girls!”, she exclaimed, “you can hear it
sizzling inside. It’s cooking his eggs from the inside out. Stick your ears
down hear and listen when I do the next one.” Each girl got her turn to listen
and then it was their turn to do it. The sizzling and popping inside of his
eggs was making them all so horny that their teen juices were running out of
their pussies and coating their thighs with lube. They started mounting his
face, one after the other, to get some orgasmic relief. He was more than happy
to comply. Anything to take his mind off his eggs being cooked. This went on
for 20-30 minutes and at least 50 red-hot needles were inserted into his nuts.
They were swelling to the size of Turkey eggs.
Next, they pulled out all the needles and took a short break while Auntie got
ready for the next torment. All of them were panting from the great orgasms
they’d had and their pussies were slick with girl cum. This was like heaven
for these girls. Plus, the icing on the cake for them would be when they
actually got to destroy his cock and balls, permanently.
Nephew’s balls were, by now, horribly swollen and bruised. He was constantly
moaning and whimpering. Too bad for him that none of these girls cared. The
bleeding had stopped in his balls but there was still some blood mixed with
precum leaking out of his cock. Auntie stepped between his grotesquely spread
legs. Her fist shot out and connected with his ballsac. He grunted loudly and
tried to protect himself but he couldn’t move an inch. She did it again, and
again. A professional boxer couldn’t have done much more damage or punch any
harder. She loved punching his balls. Deep down inside of her, it was still
her favorite thing to do to a pair of male testicles, punch them and punch
them hard.
“Okay ladies,” she said. “This time we’re going to cause more pain and more
damage with the needles. We’ll be using 2 inch, 20 gauge needles. They’re
about the size of the lead in a pencil. When you stick one in, start waggling
it in a circular motion as you slowly push it into his egg. It will hurt like
hell and will also cause a lot of damage to all those nasty cells that make
that horrible sperm stuff. We’re also going to start beating his cock with
wooden dowel rods. We’ll leave the sound in them as we beat it black and blue.
Also, no one has gotten their arm all the way in his ass yet, so that $100 is
still out there. Little Mindy got the $50 for getting both of her skinny
little arms in his ass past the elbows. Congratulations to her.”
The girls took their places and started playing with nephew. He didn’t think
of it as playing but they did. This was so much fun for them that it might as
well have been a concert. Little Mindy wanted the $100 so bad that she
couldn’t stand it. She positioned herself between his legs and lubed her arm
all the way to her armpit. She decided to not use a latex glove. They hosed
him out with high-power enemas every day and his ass was as clean as a
whistle. She slid easily past her elbow on the first thrust and started
working her arm deeper and deeper into his colon. She was going to go slower
this time and try to stop him from cramping up. She knew she could do it if
she’d just take her time and use lots of lube.
The oldest Girl Scout mounted his open mouth, facing his swollen genitals,
wiggled her pretty ass and planted it hard upon his tongue, telling him she
wanted her ass cleaned out. He immediately dove into the task while she
grabbed his nipples and twisted, pulling and pinching them with sadistic
intent.
Two of the other girls pulled stools up between his spread-eagled thighs and
situated the cart under his mangled eggs. They had hundreds and hundreds of
needles to choose from and quickly got to the task at hand. They lit a candle
to heat the needle tips with and grabbed a small, needle-nosed pliers to use
in bending the tips. Auntie had showed them how to bend the last 1/8th inch,
just a little bit and then, when you inserted the needle , you could twirl it
around and it would destroy all sorts of cells and tissues. Plus, he really
howled when they did it. Not as bad as when they heated the tips of the
needles red hot but pretty close.
The last little Scout was playing with his poor, bruised cock. It was all
black and blue with lumps all over it. She was fucking it with the steel
sounds and, at the same time, was masturbating him. When he would get close,
she’d ram the sound all the way inside of him until it disappeared, then she
would keep stroking his cock until the sound reappeared. About every 15
minutes, she would make him cum but, with the sound buried in his peehole,
nothing would come out and he would be howling into the asshole of the 16 year
old Scout sitting on his face. She loved it and little Mindy said she could
feel his prostate gland pulsing against her arm as it tried to force the semen
out.
Auntie brought over a selection of wooden dowel rods. They varied in size from
3/8 inch to 1 inch in diameter. They were all about 18 inches long with black
tape wrapped around one end to use as a non-slip handle. They were very stout
and would cause extreme pain to his cock, especially with a stainless steel
sound shoved down his peehole for the beatings.
The little girls had the best afternoon of their lives that day. They could
anything they wanted to do to nephew and nobody cared and nobody stopped them.
They beat his cock horribly with the dowel rods. It was all swollen, bruised
and covered with thick welts. Blood was flowing out of his peehole, mixed with
cum and he was begging them to stop. They acted like they never heard him.
What they were waiting for was to hear him beg them to remove his cock and
balls. By now, they were pretty sure they’d be hearing that a lot.
Little Mindy finally got her arm all the way inside nephew’s ass, deep into
his colon, well over 2 feet of her little, skinny arm was buried inside of
him. She was so tickled to have won both prizes. His asshole was so dilated
that it looked like you could drop a baseball in it and it’d just disappear.
His balls got the worst of it, though. They beat them mercilessly. They stuck
hundreds of needles in them in the most diabolical ways. Everything Auntie had
taught them and some they made us as they went along. His swollen ballsac was
bleeding profusely, droplets falling to the floor, mixed with his yellowish
balljuice. They would take breaks and laugh about who had done the most
painful things. It was like a contest as to who could cause the most pain.
His tummy was bulging from all of the warm, golden pee he had been forced to
drink. His lips were bruised from the teenage pussies grinding against them as
he was forced to bring the girls to orgasm after orgasm. His tongue was raw
from licking their assholes and pussies. If he didn’t perform they would hurt
him even worse.
Auntie hovered closely about, reveling in the damage the young girls were
doing to her nephew. Every once in a while she would join in for a few
minutes, usually punching her defenseless nephew’s swollen eggs. After little
Mindy had dilated his ass she finally got her arm deeper inside of him than
she ever had before. It was so hot and tight inside of him that it made her
pussy drip juices. She also made sure nephew got plenty of her sweet nectar
and spent plenty of time satisfying her needs.
The pungent aroma of sex, sweat and urine permeated the dungeon. It drove all
of them to more frenzy. They finally had to stop. They were all exhausted. It
was time to clean up nephew, let him relieve himself, tie him loosely to the
bondage table and relax a little. They had all sorts of time to do whatever
they wished to him. It had felt so good to all of them and they knew it was
just going to get better.
* * * |
Susan Strikes Again!! | TESTICLES, MINOR | Having already castrated her own brother, Susan tames a gang of sexist and homophobic boys at her school. | ` Susan was now 12, but had round, womanly hips and massive breasts. She'd
drawn the attention of Bill, Harry, Doug, and Herb, a gang of sexist,
homophobic boys in the higher year. They'd always leer at her when she passed,
making suggestive comments. `
Susan decided to catch them out. One day, she spoke to Chloe, a friend of
hers, while Bill was in earshot: "I'd like to help some poor boys lose their
virginity. But I'm sure the boys here are all studs. Guess I'll have to get
some guys from another school."
As soon as Chloe had gone, Bill rushed to Susan and said "You can help
us.....none of us have done it!!" "Meet me outside the bicycle shed after
school," said Susan.
"Just one of you at a time," said Susan. Bill entered, and Susan stripped him.
She peeled off her top, revealing her massive tits, erect with excitment. Bill
was in ecstasy..when suddenly Susan whipped out a sharp knife from her jeans.
Before Bill could scream she'd sliced off his scrotum along with his bulging,
swollen testicles. Susan quicky placed a plaster over his mouth, and one over
the scar at the base of his scrotum. She then covered him with a tarpaulin and
called Harry in.
She continued until all four boys were whimpering, coming to terms with their
eunuch state.
"It's not enough," Susan said," I know you can still get erect when castrated.
Get erect..the owner of the hardest cock will get a surprise!!"
The boys stared at her big tits until they were all hard...Bill the hardest.
"Okay, Bill," said Susan. "You're the hardest..you'll lose your virginity."
Bill was glad until he heard what came next. "The rest of you,"ordered Susan,
"fuck Bill up the arse..otherwise I will show the whole school the camcorder
tape I'm making of this.Do as I say, and I'll give you the tape."
Without hesitation, the other gang members raped Bill mercilessly, with no
lubricant. Susan enjoyed masturbating hereslf until Doug, the last one, came.
"Now you've all come, " said Susan, "with your last ever spunk. But Bill
hasn't..so now it's time for you to make sure he does. Suck him off, if you
don't want everyone to see the tape."
Less eagerly this time, the other 3 went down on Bill, sucking off the last
ever spunk he would produce.
"Nearly all over," said Susan, withdrawing a large rubber dildo from her jeans
pocket. "But Bill had his arsehole stretched and you didn't. It's your turn
now!!" She wore the dildo, and made Harry, Doug and Herb bend over as she
raped each boy up the arse.
Then she said, "You've all had oral sex except Billy. Come here and suck me,
Billy!" Her cunt had creamed many times, once at each castration, once at each
rape of Billy, once at each rape of the gang members. Now Billy had to lick
out all of that accumulated cunt juice.
"Okay, guys, you can all fuck off!!" said Susan. "W-w-w-what about the
tape?!?" asked Harry.
Susan was busy gathering the boys's severed scrotums and balls, and popping
them into sample jars, each marked with the name of the former ownerof the
genitals. When she'd finished, she answered,"Oh, there was no tape. I was
having you on. I'm glad to have helped you lose your virginity,and I can only
hope you enjopyed it as much as I did. Oh, and if you ever leer at any girl
again, or say bigoted things about any gay, I'll put your balls on display."
From that day they became nicer to girls and gay boys.
* * * |
Subsets and Splits